Crovie is the perfect destination for a break from the city.
I watch the postie as he waits for a gap in the breakers before making a dash to the next door.
There can be few places in the UK where the Royal Mail is more likely to get a soaking there is nothing but a pavement between cottages in the conservation village of Crovie and the wild North Sea.
My partner and I had been warned there was nothing to do in this tiny village no pub, no shop, no restaurant zilch.
Say goodbye to the mobile phone and internet, reception on our network was out of the question.
We even had to leave the car at the top of the cliff and cart our shopping and belongings in a glorified wheelbarrow to our National Trust for Scotland holiday home below and it was bliss!
Crovie (pronounced Crivie) comprises a tiny row of about 50 red pan tile-topped dwellings which appear to rise magically out of the sea.
An ancient stone jetty thrusts into the waves and sea birds swoop and dive from the towering sandstone cliffs above.
This little piece of heaven on earth lays claim to being one of the best preserved fishing villages in Europe.
Perched on top of a rocky shelf, the sitting room of our cosy restored fisherman’s abode overlooks the sea.
In this little haven, days are spent idly watching the tiny fishing craft ply the bay to drop lobster pots, scanning the water for Bottlenose dolphins, or simply sitting on the sea wall with a glass of finest claret in hand and watching the sun slowly set.
Meanwhile in the nearby villages and towns of New Aberdour, Macduff, Banff and Portsoy, visitors can explore sea caves, visit an aquarium, go swimming, bowling or even bird watching.
A one-mile walk across the pebble beach at Crovie and you arrive in the neighbouring village of Gardenstown (known as Gamrie to the locals).
It was to Gamrie, in the epic storm of 1953, that Crovie’s residents shifted after their dwellings were washed out to sea.
In Gamrie visitors can enjoy the local pub and a great little harbourside restaurant (advance booking essential).
As the full moon streaks the sea with silver, we take a bracing walk back to Crovie and look forward to a warming brandy before bed.
And at the perfect end to a perfect day, we drift into sleep to the sound of the spent surf gently slapping the shore.
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