Interlude: In the wilds between Fraserburgh and Macduff there was little or no radio reception - but there was one oasis in the frequency wilderness: Bagpipe FM.
Well, that wasn't its name, but it might as well have been. Radio nan Gaidheal certainly helped while away the hours with an eclectic mix of bagpipe dirges and tartan funk. Imagine how distraught we were when the music stopped and the news hour began. We were hoping for a stirring massed pipe rendition of How Am I Supposed To Live Without You
After a night in Inverness it was on to Dingwall at first light (almost). It might well be the country's most remote Wimpy, but even though we had to wait the best part of an hour for it to open, it was worth the journey. We were the first customers of the day, but our sweet and succulent bacon buns were just the start of a first-class Wimpy experience.
We spotted a Mr Wimpy puppet and Stu asked if they had any for sale. To our surprise and delight, our ever-so-helpful waitress brought two to our table. With a smile, she said: "Will that keep two little people happy?" Well, neither of us is that tall.
As we were preparing to leave, she revealed there was a playroom upstairs adorned with murals of Mr Wimpy and his forgotten friends (no, not us - a dinosaur, an elephant and a veritable menagerie). She even let us up there for a swift photograph - it'll be up eventually, promise.
Five stars from me, and Stu was equally wowed. Decor resembling the 1980s Scarborough Wimpy on which Stu was weaned, an 80s soundtrack (not a trace of the Soul Provider to be heard), great food and of course those puppets mean anything less than full marks would be a travesty.
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