Big Trip Part 3.


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Published: May 29th 2007
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After our first night at Roy Bridge we headed out the next day to Fort William to enquire about ferry timetables for an excursion to the Isles the next day and to see what we could do that day. Whilst there we got some pies and sausage rolls from the bakery and headed to Old Inverlochy castle to eat our early lunch. They were very bad, I pity the British having to eat bad pastries when everyone else in the world seems to have figured out how to make them properly. Sitting by the river eating our bad pastries, the sun was beautifully warm, the air was crisp, clear and sparkling and the mountains were capped with pure white snow. It was deceiving to look at the mountains in this setting, mountains that take experienced mountaineers lives when the weather turns were at that time placid, friendly, benevolent even. After lunch we drove on the road to Inverness, towards the dreaded tourist trap of Loch Ness with the aim of seeing a few things on the road up there. The lochs and the mountains offered beautiful views on the winding road north, the tall mountains casting dark grey shadows over the lochs which makes the water look black and cold, forbidding and of incredible depth.

Logging trucks were a frequent companion on this road, as pine plantations cover the mountains all through the highlands. Apparently, during WW2 in England, they ran out of wood and so decided that in preparing for any future wars they were plant massive plantations of pine up in the highlands (where Englishmen would never really see them anyway). We kept repeating “Don’t scratch the Punto” whenever one went near our car. We stopped briefly at Urqhart castle for a quick look but were deterred by the tourist hoards, the new age invaders. We found ourselves at a little town on the edge of Loch Ness called Drumnahdroicht, fairly established in its tourist trade. After consulting tourist information, we headed up into the hills for a small walk down to a waterfall, driving past small farms with their fields, cattle and sheep. No Heddy Coos in sight though. It was only a short walk down to the falls, the day was so warm and clear that we needed no coats for the trip and once we reached the top of the unimpressive falls we sat on a warm rock and absorbed the sun like reptiles. It was lovely a peaceful to be sitting on the ground, listening to the water falling and being warmed gently by the weak Spring sun.
Once in the car and on the way back down the hill we passed a small bridge where we decided to pull over and take a look. Underneath the bridge was a beautiful spot to sit, the water crystal clear yet tinted a bright yellow from the rounded river rocks on the bed. The water was so cold to touch that it hurt but the sunshine was warm and we again sat and absorbed the peace and warmth in this beautiful isolated spot.

On our way back to the hostel we passed a small bridge marked with heritage badges that we excitedly decided to visit. It was only a relatively modern suspension bridge yet it was lovely to stand over the wide and turbulent river. Once back at the hostel we had a cuppa in the sun outside the hostel and read some of our books, then headed back into the kitchen to make refried tacos for dinner. My new speciality. After talking to Gavin, one of the owners of the hostel, we decided on heading out to the West coast rather then getting a ferry out to the Isles due to the price and the amount of time we had.

The next day was an early start for our long drive. It was a misty cloudy morning with a heavy cloud covering the snow topped mountains. We drove into Fort William to get some bread for lunch then headed out to Mallaigh, on the far West of the Scottish mainland. The drive was wonderful, passing through surreal glens and expansive flat lochs until reaching our single track road which wound past the ocean, intermittently offering views of white beaches and grey, cold water. We stopped off for a look at one of the beaches, the water a clear blue close up and the sand a whitey grey colour. It was cool due to the sun being hidden behind numerous layers of cloud but the view out towards the bays and the ocean was beautiful. We could see at some points, the Isles of Rum, Muck and Eig, isolated and uninhabited islands off the coast. Small boats bobbed in the calm water and isolated houses were perched up heather covered hillsides, the trees and the craggy rocks framing the waters edge. We stopped of at Mallaigh, a centre for the region with colourful boats bobbing in the harbour and restaurants offering all sorts of seafood delights. We stopped at a small café and sat by a fireplace to have tea and scones which as usual had scones in them but it was a lovely place to be sipping Darjeeling and eating morning tea.

We hit the road, heading towards the isolated Tioram (pronounced Cheerom) castle on the coast, cut off from the mainland at high tide on the edge of Loch Shiel. The drive there was beautiful, past little communities that must be so cold and miserable in winter. We got a wee bit lost, but turned back and drove down a winding road to the castle. Situated out on a jutting headland, the castle was accessible when we arrived and from where we stood near the car park we could see directly out to the sea past the beautiful formations of rocks that lined the water. We walked across a muddy flat to get to the castle which was ruined and had been for some time, inaccessible to the public due to its unsafe and dilapidated state. My kind of castle. On arriving we found ourselves a spot sheltered from the cold wind and cut up our tomato and cheese to put on our sandwiches and whilst eating, sat quietly wishing that the sun would return to keep away the cold wind. The castle was a beautiful spot to potter around, walking up and down the hilly terrain and along the goat tracks. Whilst sitting to lunch we heard a small party arrive with kids running up and down the grass and as one kid approached the castle he said in a very thick Scottish accent “Dad, do you think the English would have killed us here?”. Obviously, Scottish nationalism is strong in both the city and the highlands.

We drove back to Fort William an alternate way and caught the five pound ferry across the bay at Ardgour which was very exciting. We dropped into Morrys in Fort William again to get some more supplies for dinner (namely some lovely dark chocolate for Stu’s great hot chocolate.) and afterwards drove back to the hostel. Stu cooked a great pasta for dinner and hot chocolate for after and as we sat in the kitchen drinking quietly, were invaded by an enormous party of extreme kayakers, searching for the rapids of the full Scottish rivers. Unfortunately it hadn’t rained in a long time and thus I fear they would wasted their weekend scraping their boats across river rocks and carrying them back to their cars at the end of the day, unless of course a dam was released, but then every kayaker in the country comes out to play you know! We went to bed fairly early so we could head out early the next day.

The drive down to Windermere in the Lakes district the next day was long and so we set out early to get there at a reasonable time. The road took us back through the amazing lochs and glens, winding and busy with April holiday makers taking advantage of the good weather. Since the motorway went through Glasgow, we decided to stop in for a look and arrived around lunchtime. Being Good Friday, we didn’t really expect anything to be open but the city centre was busy and all the shops were trading. Since Glasgow has a reputation for its music scene we bought Fionn Regan’s CD for the car trip. The outskirts of town were depressing, the typical high-rise blocks of flats that surround cities throughout Britain and Europe with their ghetto type landscape. Closer in to town was a bit nicer with older streets and buildings but the centre of town, where we got out was a fairly typical English major city, we could have been anywhere. The same old chain restaurants, clothing shops and music stores lined the grimy streets.

Leaving Glasgow, the motorway was blocked due to road works and so the crawl past pretty English type countryside was a slow one. We arrived in Windermere around four in the afternoon with plenty of sunlight left to explore for a bit and head down to the lake. The landscape was definitely beautiful, sharp rolling green mountains with lines of piled rocks lining their way all over them. The prettiness of this place is what draws millions of tourists yearly and thus what would once have been a fairly isolated area is now cracked open for pleasure boaters and day-trippers such as ourselves to immerse themselves in the charm. The slate tiles of the area covered all the buildings, a beautiful stone made sharp and colourful. That night we had a great dinner at a local pub, I had three enormous sausages on mash and Stu had an equally huge steak and ale pie. We squeezed ourselves through the doorways afterwards to the bar where we sat having a pint of lager with the locals (as Stu would have you believe) as he watched the ‘football’ in a typical old English pub. Sleep that night was well deserved.


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29th May 2007

At an end
You have has a wonderful time and thanks for sharing it with us. I am very proud of you and your achievments. Memories and friendships for a lifetime! My little camera has served you well. See you in 2 weeks. Love always. Mum
3rd June 2007

Thanks again Em. Love hearing of your travels - Safe journey home!

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