Category: Europe
Changes to transport in Scotland’s West Highlands
1st June 2008 Stagecoach isn't exactly flavour of the month in the Scottish Highlands right now. Their association with Scottish Citylink has resulted in changes, some for the better. In the background, there's a potential takeover of the Rapsons group in the offing and West Coast Motors no longer run Scottish Citylink services. So, some suspicions of Stagecoach using Citylink as a stalking horse for moving wholesale into an area where they haven't been up to now are understandable. Quite what the likes of the Competition Commision and the Office of Fair Trading will make of all this remains to be seen. In the meantime, West Coast Motors have launched services competing with those run by Citylink.
I first heard the murmurings of discontent on a trip to Lochaber in April and there was good reason: time was when two coaches were known to depart on a Citylink working at the same time if the number of passengers required it and that's no more. In fact, I have have two experiences with 11:00 (formerly 11:20) departure to Glasgow from Fort William that rather makes me think that I should avoid using that service in the future. The first of these was last April and I was lucky enough to get on the coach. The second time around, I wanted to get on it at Tyndrum and found that it was full. There is a flip side to this, of course. For the summer at least, Citylink are operating a next to two hourly service between the capital of Lochaber and Scotland's biggest city and it is virtually hourly in the afternoons. So, if we could change people's behaviour so that the load is better spread, then the experience of getting ditched by a full coach would become a thing of the past.
In April, the extra services weren't running and that brings me to perennial problem with the Highlands: the reduction in services during winter time. That means next to no train service on Sundays and the corresponding strain on coach services in the off season. In reality, there is no off season in Scotland with wonderfulness available to all every time of year; it's just that the visitors often all turn up at the same time. Having been in Fort William of quiet January weekend, I know how quiet things can become but I still wonder if it would better to starting ensure that an improved public transport service started to operate from March on. There is a more extreme example of the shortness of the summer service period: direct coaches between Oban and Fort William are twice daily most of the year but for the Scottish summer school holidays when the service level is doubled. To my mind, that's daft but I think that it has been the way for a good few years now.
On the subject of connections between Oban and Fort William, this year seems to see an improvement so long as you are willing to change in Tyndrum and don't meet a full coach. That very same improvement applies to getting to Glasgow too, as does the caveat. Nevertheless, getting to the likes of Tyndrum or Dalmally for a walk has probably never been easier and I hope that's how it stays. In fact, I would like all of the extra services to stay because of the limited train timetable along single track railway lines but their limitations are another story in itself.
Finding some sun on a bank holiday
30th May 2008 In weather terms, May has been anything but a bad month, apart maybe from those deluges down south. However, it did have a shaky beginning and its first bank holiday weekend was far being settled. After a dry day in Teesdale, I wasn't expecting much for the Sunday but I seem to remember that it wasn't as bad as was predicted. In any event, the day in question offered an opportunity for a useful rest and allowed my mind to turn towards ideas for the day after. A ridge of high pressure was trying to make inroads from the west and so it seemed that Wales was a good bet, particularly given my lack of attention to the principality in recent years.
The skies were grey and the landscaped sheathed in a primordial murkiness as I made my way from Macclesfield, changing trains at Stoke-on-Trent and Crewe as I went. There was no hint of anything else and a duvet day could have resulted for me, only for my decisiveness; I am not always thus. In fact, I was nearly halfway along the North Wales coast before things really started to cheer up. This was to be my first sight of the weather that was to pervade the rest of the month.
My arrival in Bangor was blessed by hot sunny weather and I appreciated the shade as I awaited the bus to Bethesda, the starting point for my day's walk. That wait, lengthened by the observance of a Sunday timetable, allowed me a wee wander around the centre of the city in question. A pound was all that the final stretch of my outbound journey would cost me.
Once in Bethesda, I headed for the hills. OS maps aren't much use for navigating streets but I made my way onto open hillside without a fuss. Finding myself on Open Access land, I got tempted by the prospect of mounting the 409 metres summit of Moel Faban. After that diversion, a spot of map inspection was needed to return me to the bridleway that I had been following; I rejoined it at the base of Bwlch ym Mhwlle-le. That was the first indication of a certain "devil may care" attitude that was to pervade the rest of the walk. Initially clear, the bridleway became less distinct as it crossed the moorland and I opted for a less precise course that still set me up for another path that led up the side of Moel Wnion, a far more distinct affair.
Up to the point where I reached the saddle between Moel Wnion and nearby Gyrn, I had in my head the idea of an out and back trot from Bethesda, possibly taking in the heights of Garnedd Uchaf. However, a bank of low cloud coming in from the sea aroused some concern and I got to wonder about my own abilities. So, while I descended to the cwm ahead of Drosgyl, I decided to change tack and head towards the coast along the side of Moel Wnion rather than go up the former hill.
Being on rough moorland means that paths can be indistinct and so it was for the first part of my now northbound hike. Higher up Moel Wnion, it all got much clearer and the sharp drop was as good a handrail as any in any event. The views of nearby hills were good too as I made my way towards the North Wales Path. Rather than sticking with the right of way all the time, I was eventually to take a clear, if unofficial, path over Crâs to reach the trail that was to take me onward.
Dropping down to the North Wales Path came with a price: I entered that sea fog that I had seen earlier. Still, even if waymarking was far from perfect, the course to be followed remained clear. The presence of stiles is often a good guide to the course of a right of way and so it was here, and the grassy track was far from unclear. In fact, visibility never became so poor that a map wasn't helpful either. The mistiness had its pleasures too: a spot of cool on an otherwise warm day. It was a nicety that I was soon to lose and I also lost the clear track once I reached the road. After that, it was very much a question of careful navigation as the trail weaved its way along roads and through fields until I got near the A55.
From that point, it was largely a case of road walking until I reached Bangor train station. I might have caught an earlier train if I went from Tal-y-bont on a bus, but the spots of off-road progress and glimpses of Penrhyn castle were worthwhile too. Anyway, the extra time allowed me to compose myself before the journey home. It was a good day out.
A source of some distraction
27th May 2008 After the Mayday bank holiday weekend, I promised to add a trip report for a day outing to North Wales, but the combination of it being May and our having some decent weather has meant that my attention has dashed off elsewhere. It's hard not to be tempted by the outdoors at this time of year, with all the colours that abound. In addition to the fresh, verdant green of the new foliage, the list becomes a very long one. After all, this is my favourite time of the year.
Here's a cursory summary: the magnetic hues of the glades of bluebells, the white of hawthorn blossom and the catkins on horse chestnut trees, the yellow of the flowering gorse and the pink of the cherry blossom. There are more (that ever present invader, rhododendron, comes to mind) but what I have listed is enough to send you off somewhere when some sunshine is on offer. The result is that I have spent evenings in the outdoors near my home in Cheshire, and another trek to Wales ensued.
To cap it all, I have just spent a glorious weekend in Argyll, and I am kicking myself for not allowing an extra day for making even more of it than I did. Just catch Aktoman's photos from his recent trek in the Cairngorms to see what I mean; it makes my exertions look minor in comparison, and I wish that I had pushed the boat out more than I did. Not having full foresight of the weather when working for a living has the effect of cutting yourself short sometimes, especially when you need to plan ahead and get the required clearance.
All of that means more trip reports, so I'd better get cracking sometime. Of course, the trick is making the time, but the weather looks to be damper over the coming days; that might allow me the time to settle the matter. When the weather draws you outside all the time, it can be challenging to get anything else done. That applies to more than blogging.
An uncertain forecast, but a dry day in Teesdale
12th May 2008 This past weekend might be seen as not being that friendly towards hill country hikers with its mix of high temperatures and an ever present threat of torrential downpours with added son et lumière. Apart from a session allotted to the breaking in of my Scarpa ZG10's, my own outdoors activity was non too extensive. As it happened, I just couldn't get myself in the mood for a longer hike. The thundery atmosphere and the heat might have something to do with this lethargy but it also could be due to my having decent walking outings over the previous bank holiday weekend. After a climax, an encore can be too much to ask.
The Mayday weekend might have shared weather uncertainties with that following it but, in many ways, it was a very different affair. For one thing, I managed to make my mind up that I was going for a walk and that was that. I was playing with a multi-day Pennine Way outing but doubts over the weather and personal fitness toned things down a lot. I still experienced a new section of the trail but in a much more manageable fashion: an out and back along the Tees from Middleton-in-Teesdale. Though there was a threat of rain and skies were packed full of light cloud, I was determined to explore a part of England that was hitherto new to me. At times, the sun broke through anyway and all fears of drenching were for naught; it was sunscreen that was needed rather than water proofs.
Getting to Middleton and away is easily described: by train from Macclesfield to Darlington and by bus from there. Returning home simply reversed things. An early morning departure ensured that I was in Teesdale not long after 11:00 and the only concern was a short connection time in Darlington but I made the bus in the nick of time. On the way back, a spot of muddling meant that I missed the 19:34 southbound train and I had to await the 20:14 instead. I still got home but at the same time but retain the lesson that you shouldn't trust your memory too closely: I took the correct turns but at the wrong locations. All got resolved in good time.
The Tees-side walk itself was devoid of such navigational blundering. From Middleton to Low Force, the track of the Pennine Way (which it shares with the Teesdale Way at this point) was quiet as it followed the fast flowing Tees through fields filled with sheep and their lambs. Apart from some ramblers, very few folk were met until around Low Force and High Force. The capacity for dramatic waterworks of the natural variety to attract wider humanity should never be underestimated. The fact that the day was balmy contributed to the attraction of the features in question, as it always does.
I didn't have to go far past High Force for things to quieten down again. However, the pleasing sights of torrents of water spouting over rocks were replaced momentarily by the fruits of some human industrial activity: quarrying. Having passed this, I became conscious of the time that I had, perhaps overly so, and decided to turn back on Bracken Rigg rather than dropping down to Cronkley and Forest-in-Teesdale. I am beginning to notice that I am overcautious with out-and-back treks while throwing some caution to the wind on point-to-point hikes. My visits to Teesdale and Kinlochleven typified the former while my bank holiday wander from Bethesda to Bangor (to be described in a future post) could be seen as being very much of the latter. This is something that I'll be watching, especially for linear walks.
Perambulation over a combination of footpaths and bridleways, some boggy, was to land me at Holwick with the scars looking very impressive, even on a cloudy day. After that, it was back to the Pennine Way and Middleton where I whiled away a relaxing hour before my bus turned up. It was a good relaxing end to an enjoyable day. Thoughts are now turning to future Pennine Way expeditions with a walk from Teesdale to Dufton in the mind. Connecting with Swaledale and Wensleydale to usher forth my progress is yet another proposition. We'll see how that might come to pass...
Wandering around lochs among white-capped hills
24th April 2008 This past weekend saw me head up to Lochaber in the Scottish Highlands after seeing a favourable weather forecast up there; the prospects for south of the border weren't as good. A spot of overnight travel saw me reach Glasgow, from where a Scottish Citylink coach service carried me through the usually glorious countryside with it looking resplendent in the sunshine. The slopes may have been brown, but many of the tops were still white, a reminder of the bumper crops of snow that fell over the past winter and spring. It seemed a pity to merely be passing through all of this wonderful stuff without stopping but it just isn't physically possible to explore it all at once.
Appropriately enough for a day that was to be spent in its vicinity, my coach journey was completed on the shores of Loch Leven next to Glencoe village. My eventual destination was to be Kinlochleven, but the next bus there was nearly two hours away and a short stroll along the lower slopes of Sgurr na Cìche (also known as the Pap of Glencoe) was more than a way to spend the time. I found my way onto Forestry Commission land originally landscaped to mimic Canada for Lord Strathcona's wife. Unfortunately, the creation of an artificial lochan and planting of Canadian flora failed to stall a return to British Columbia and the big house that he built is now Glencoe Hospital. I walked around the lochan, taking in the views of mountains, some with snowy caps, above and through gaps in the trees. At one point, I took a path that gave my legs a good workout, a prelude to what was to come later.
My time well spent, I caught my bus for the short hop to Kinlochleven where a trek to and from Loch Eilde Mor was in my mind. I was retracing my steps from a visit in damper, clammier weather last August. Kinlochleven seemed more alive with people when I got there this time around and there were no midges to plague those who were out and about. When I set to ascending the steep slopes by Allt a' Chumhann and Allt nan Slatan, it didn't take long for me to find myself away from humanity. Views down along Loch Leven caused me to dally; I saw the potential in August but I knew that better weather would improve the views and I wasn't wrong. The Mamores and their others were the mountainous wall on the right as I looked west while, on the left, the view towards Sgurr na Cìche took in what divides Glen Coe from Loch Leven.
By the time that I reached more level ground, banks of cloud had bubbled up and were limiting the sun but not that much. It meant a spot of patience was in order when it came to photographic activity, a very minor problem. By now, I had made my way from a well-made path onto a good vehicle track and it didn't take that long for me to reach Loch Eilde Mor from that point. I would have walked its entire length were it not for doubts regarding my catching a bus to Fort William in time to reach my accommodation for the night. Thus, I turned back with Locheilt Lodge appearing tantalisingly close. In the event, I could have continued on a bit more since I was left with an hour to spare before the said bus arrived. However, it's best to be safer than sorry sometimes and I was getting tired anyway. On the way back, rather than following the path that I used on the way up, I stayed on the vehicle track and followed it until Mamore Lodge, after which I dropped down to the road on the West Highland Way.
Fort William was reached in good time and I spent a quiet night there before starting my journey home after enjoying the early morning sunshine. I was wondering if I left the area prematurely and whether a little more planning would have made a longer break of it. The views from the coach were as good on the way down as they were on the way up, even if a strange sense of fatigue with all things brown came over me. Even so, I might have been visiting Lochaber for next to ten years but I keep finding something new that always seems to convince me that I'll only ever scratch the surface of all that it has to offer. I have left hoping to return and a trek from Corrour to Kinlochleven might be a plausible proposition that returns me to the shores of Loch Eilde Mor and Loch Leven again.
