WHEN you first start to learn to Spey cast, it is like patting your head and rubbing your tummy at the same time. The cast seems an inexplicable conflict in the brain and it has caused me to mutter more swear words than anything else in my life. A balletic movement of loops and lines, it was invented in the 18th century and its eponymous river flows through the 22,000-acre Tulchan estate, near Grantown-on-Spey.
Flanked by whisky distilleries, Tulchan has hosted shooting and fishing parties for three British kings, the US president Theodore Roosevelt, banker J. P. Morgan and railway financier William Vanderbilt. It is an extraordinarily special place, where purple-clad heather moors rise steeply above the graceful river. If you climb over one hill, you look down towards Deeside and Balmoral. It was to be our base for an attempt at a Macnab.
When John Buchan wrote his novel John Macnab in 1925, his three heroes were hopelessly bored plutocrats in search of a cure when their doctor prescribes a large dose of excitement to improve their vim. The three men hatch an idea to poach two stags and a salmon respectively across three estates, under the pseudonym of John Macnab, having honourably alerted the landowners that they were going to attempt this illegal feat. Today, the challenge is to bag a salmon, a stag and a brace of grouse between dawn and dusk on a single day. It involves a tremendous amount of sporting skill, using rod, rifle and shotgun, fieldcraft and, most of all, a massive dollop of luck. Few places are better suited to the challenge than Tulchan. It has it all, together with an exceptional team of gillies, gamekeepers and stalkers under the aegis of director Laura Irwin.
Denne historien er fra October 18, 2023-utgaven av Country Life UK.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
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Denne historien er fra October 18, 2023-utgaven av Country Life UK.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
Allerede abonnent? Logg på
Give it some stick
Galloping through the imagination, competitive hobby-horsing is a gymnastic sport on the rise in Britain, discovers Sybilla Hart
Paper escapes
Steven King selects his best travel books of 2024
For love, not money
This year may have marked the end of brag-art’, bought merely to show off one’s wealth. It’s time for a return to looking for connoisseurship, beauty and taste
Mary I: more bruised than bloody
Cast as a sanguinary tyrant, our first Queen Regnant may not deserve her brutal reputation, believes Geoffrey Munn
A love supreme
Art brought together 19th-century Norwich couple Joseph and Emily Stannard, who shared a passion for painting, but their destiny would be dramatically different
Private views
One of the best ways-often the only way-to visit the finest privately owned gardens in the country is by joining an exclusive tour. Non Morris does exactly that
Shhhhhh...
THERE is great delight to be had poring over the front pages of COUNTRY LIFE each week, dreaming of what life would be like in a Scottish castle (so reasonably priced, but do bear in mind the midges) or a townhouse in London’s Eaton Square (worth a king’s ransom, but, oh dear, the traffic) or perhaps that cottage in the Cotswolds (if you don’t mind standing next to Hollywood A-listers in the queue at Daylesford). The estate agent’s particulars will give you details of acreage, proximity to schools and railway stations, but never—no, never—an indication of noise levels.
Mission impossible
Rubble and ruin were all that remained of the early-19th-century Villa Frere and its gardens, planted by the English diplomat John Hookham Frere, until a group of dedicated volunteers came to its rescue. Josephine Tyndale-Biscoe tells the story
When a perfect storm hits
Weather, wars, elections and financial uncertainty all conspired against high-end house sales this year, but there were still some spectacular deals
Give the dog a bone
Man's best friend still needs to eat like its Lupus forebears, believes Jonathan Self, when it's not guarding food, greeting us or destroying our upholstery, of course