Jim and Hamish's "Scotland 2008" Tour

[Hamish]

The next morning and, as it turned out, the remainder of the day was rather dull and grey with low cloud cover and intermittent rain but, undaunted, we set out on the next leg of our tour which took us north on the road towards Fort William. This mainly unspectacular road ran along the banks of Lochs Creran and Linnhe. Here we were on the edge of some of the most mountainous countryside in Scotland, but the low clouds hid most of it from our view. At Ballachulish we left the Fort William road and turned eastwards, past Loch Leven:



and into brooding Glencoe. Perhaps the dull weather added enhancement to this place which has to be absolutely stunning in any weather conditions. No photo can capture the grandeur of this glen, but we tried:






The powerful sensations of historical tragedy here were only mildly affected by the relatively heavy traffic and roadworkings - the events of 1692, when the Campbells massacred the Macdonalds in this glen, will surely be sensed here for evermore.

From here we returned to the road north towards Fort William, which we reached after a short while. At Fort William we made only a brief stop to buy sandwiches for lunch, to visit a Bank, to make a 'comfort' stop and to ring 'Jock Scot' with whom I had previously made arrangements to meet since we were now on his home territory. We agreed to achieve this at the Commando Memorial close by Spean Bridge, a 20 minute drive further along our route.

As we drove into the car-park below the memorial, there was Jock resplendent in tweeds and Balmoral, with a fine cromach in his hand, and fresh from being photographed by tourists. What a character he is and how interesting; a real countryman. Here he is with Jim:



and with me:



Thank you Jock for taking the time out to come and meet us - much appreciated.
Somewhere in the clouds behind us is Ben Nevis, at 4,406ft the highest mountain in Great Britain. I have never managed to see it in the past, and I could not see it that day either. Oh well, next time perhaps!

Having made our farewells to Jock, we continued eastwards to the Braes of Lochaber, wherein lies my wee, as yet unvisited, sporting estate. Among the title-deeds and information regarding my fishing rights that came at the time of purchase, were the precise grid references of my land and guidance as to car-parking location, etc. For a start, we could not find the parking place, even after to-ing and fro-ing along the main road, so we parked where we figured the place should be. Jim had brought his finely tuned GPS thingy to help us in our search for my land but, after traipsing through farmyards, across fields and along narrow lanes we just could not get close to the 'estate' using the references provided and, as it had started to rain heavily, we beat a hasty track back to the car, and our sandwich lunch. What a disappointment - this was the only 'downer' in our week in Scotland. I shall be writing to the previous owner of my estate for an explanation, of course! When I thought of the missed photo opportunity - me surrounded on all sides by my land - I wept, for I knew in my heart how much you all wanted to share that image .

After I had sobbed into my sandwiches, Jim consoled me as best he could and then resumed the drive through Glen Spean, alongside Loch Laggan and on towards Kingussie. Then we turned south to Dalwhinnie and joined the main A9 road to Pitlochry, where we were to spend two nights. We were slightly ahead of time and so, shortly before Pitlochry, we left the road to visit 'The House of Bruar' near Blair Atholl. A modern, luxury retail establishment, seemingly miles from anywhere, this place has food departments to rival those of Harrods in London and as much high quality, expensive men's and women's clothing as anyone could possibly want. I already have two of their tweed kilts, but felt obliged to purchase three pairs of hose in colours I did not have - just to help keep the poor souls in business, you understand?

Within fifteen minutes of leaving there we were driving into Pitlochry and heading for our comfortable pre-booked B&B - The Poplars in Lower Oakfield Road. That evening, we walked up to the village of Moulin for our meal. There the Moulin Inn has its own brewery and so Jim was able to enjoy a pint of their 'Braveheart', a smooth, medium-bodied, golden ale with his haggis, whilst I stuck with a glass of my favourite red wine and a vegetarian tart. (No laughing, at the back there!)

Because of the poor weather, few photos were taken that day but we had hopes that the next would be better.

And so to bed ................

To be continued.