Category: Scotland
After a year of unfinished business
5th February 2017 2016 turned out to be a dramatic year in world affairs, and it was set to be a busy one for me too, so I could have done without the other developments. That work looking after my late father's affairs is tailing off into more of a steady state, and I hope that things become more manageable as the year progresses. There even might be time for a sabbatical from my day job.
The way that I feel presently is that such a thing would be well needed, and I fancy a period of rest after all the upheaval of the last few years. It has sapped my spirit, so a spot of renewal is in order. Overseas trips became a way to tide myself until a longer break becomes a reality.
In 2016, I got to three new countries: Austria, Norway and Spain. With my visits to the first two of these taking the form of extended weekends, I left feeling that there was more to see. It is usually not a bad thing, but an extra day or two added to each would have allowed a bit more exploration. My Spanish escapade took me to Mallorca between Christmas and New Year, and that brought what the other trips did not bring. There was a feeling of leaving the cares of life after me that was much needed.
In a way, it worked too well, and a cold that I had caught somewhere began to make its effects plain enough that the return journey had more than a little dash of limp home mode about it. It took a week or two before I finally recovered, and some extra time away from work was in order.
Before that took hold, there was ample time in the near constant sunshine as I explored the island from my Palma base. Port de Pollença was my first port of call, with a little strolling about the place. A day trip to Sóller allowed for a chance to sample part of the GR 221, a long-distance trail extending along the Serra de Tramuntana. After that, there was a trot around Port d'Andratx that was supposed to take me to Saint Elm but granted me a view of the place instead when I failed to find the path needed to get me from one track to another. Given that I was feeling less than my full self, it was just as well. The last day of my trip saw me lazing about Palma next to its impressive cathedral, helping sightseers with photos when asked to do so. There was ample time during my stay to make photos of my own too.
Despite the fever, I got a lot from my time in Mallorca, and it offered the feeling of satisfying and more complete explorations. It also did me another favour. During December, I fell into a search for closure that I do not understand fully, and even walks around Macclesfield over the Christmas did little to dissipate the feeling. It probably was grief that hit me but going away somewhere else fractured that unwanted continuity.
December saw me return to the Lake District for a walk between Great Langdale and Grasmere on a crisp winter's day. The dawdling along the way was restorative and taught me that such experiences can be readily available in Britain. There also was an amble between Burbage and Whaley Bridge that revisited the Goyt Valley. Being denied much in the way of sunshine was no irritation, and it also offers encouragement for a return sometime.
Other longer walks happened during the year too, with one returning me home from Leek by way of the Roaches. Thinking about that now recalls how soothing a largely solitary saunter, it was. Another took me along the White to Dark Trail between Tideswell and Hathersage.
Hopefully, 2017 will be an easier year for me, and it is something of an open book in some ways. Aside maybe from a possible stay in Stockholm, overseas excursions no longer loom as large in my mind now. Scotland could see more of me than that short visit in November that took in Inverness and a rainy Plockton. A spot of mental clearance could see me plodding around England and Wales more often, too. Ireland might even see a spot of much-needed exploration, and I also fancy a stay around Killarney. Given how heavy my spirit feels now, the more important job for the year could be to lift things again for me.
Northern introductions
2nd December 2016 Since my last missive on here, I enjoyed a visit to Norway at the end of the August. Adding a day to a bank holiday weekend made time for the opportunity. An evening was spent strolling around Oslo in sunshine before I travelled to Bergen by train since it is classed as one of the premier scenic railway journeys in the world. While in Bergen, I explored a little of the city and its nearby hill country in behind showers of rain.
The latter had me travelling on the Fløyen funicular railway to get access to loftier vantage points and to get me down again after a hike that followed the coast until I gained some height on the way to Munkebotsvatnet before I followed a track as far as Storevatnet. By that point, my desire for a quieter route took me over boggier trails to go around by Rundemanden. These gave me the space that I so craved though cloud cover had interrupted the sunshine by then. Still, it proved to be a wonderful introduction to the place.
In fact, the brevity of my visit had me feeling that I over skimmed the surface of what could be savoured. A longer stay would have allowed for more walking and a cruise around fjords as well as fanning out to explore other pleasing spots like Vass. In this respect, I felt much like how I did on my trip to Austria earlier in the year.
That sense has its uses because it foments a return. That would be a longer visit that allows deeper exploration and might even have me sticking with a single base like Oslo, Bergen or Stavanger. It seems that Norway would reward a few more trips before even thinking about its renowned Arctic reaches like Lofoten and Tromsø.
In the meantime, I am adding an album to the photo gallery for the elongated weekend proved to be a productive one for photography. Even the spells of rain around Bergen did not stop me and I have plenty of experience of dealing with that kind of weather in Britain and Ireland. One of the more recent of those took me to then unfrequented corners of Scotland at the start of November.
There was an overnight trip on the Caledonian Sleeper for the first time in over five years. That took me to Inverness from where some rail rambling too place. An out and back trip to Plockton was the main event and it revealed another swathe of empty open countryside for me to be exploring. There was some time in Plockton for ogling sights like hills on the nearby Applecross peninsula between the rain and there even were some photo opportunities. That spoke for Saturday and Sunday dawned a duller affair so I pottered about the Ness islands before travelling to Aberdeen to take in sights of Moray countryside that were beset with sunshine and rain showers.
The weekend visit might have been short but it was both restorative and satisfactory. There was enough sun to do justice to scenic Scottish delights and the prospects for further exploration hardly were a cause for melancholy. Somehow, Scotland's being nearer at hand lowered my sights at this turn and travelling there did not need the effort or expense of going overseas either. Maybe that had something to do with it.
Though we now are in the last month of the year, there is no shutdown yet. A British weekend away is being plotted as is a warmer overseas escape. Though there is a major life task to be completed in the next few months, I am starting to ponder 2017. Those plans will be loose though for life can take unexpected directions yet.
Beginning a tenth year
5th May 2015 It was after the Mayday bank holiday weekend in 2006 that this blog began and, though the actual tenth anniversary is around twelve months away, a lot has happened in those nine years. These have included life changes too, with a change of job (and employer) nearly five years ago subsequently being eclipsed by the loss of my mother over two years ago and my father's taking leave of this world earlier in the year. Life can feel like a roller coaster ride at times.
2013 became all about dealing with the rawness of not having my mother around any more and my father's no longer being there has left me feeling a bit lost when it comes to my ongoing relationship with the country of my birth and upbringing, Ireland. This is something that happens to many people to set down roots away from their homeland, though my father's affairs need management for a while yet, and I still have family on the other side of the Irish Sea.
What perhaps feels a bit stranger is how little an effect this has had on circumstances in the country that I call home. For one thing, where I live most of the time has become more important, and it may look to my work colleagues that little has changed, but the need to find my feet again in a changed life continues. Events like the ones that I have encountered make you think about where you are going in life and there may be a need for a work sabbatical yet if an annual leave allowance is not enough for putting my father's affairs in order.
After my father's funeral, my mind filled with dreams of exploring the likes of the Faroe Islands, Iceland, the Alps or the Pyrenees, but they have been tamed for a while. The initial feeling of release has been tempered by things needing doing in Ireland and having to rest after two years of keeping an eye on a bereaved parent in a nursing home became more of a priority; it is remarkable how something like that can take so much out of you.
Having not had any sort of longer break since January, I was gagging for the Easter weekend because I really needed a bit of "me" time. That the weather came good around was a bonus, though it did little to rouse me to travel away from home. Macclesfield has plenty of local walking opportunities anyway, so I was left short of those. Holy Saturday saw me walk to the recycling centre with electronic equipment for disposal, and I made a longer walk of it by taking in Danes Moss Nature Reserve and a section of the Macclesfield Canal. Easter Sunday allowed a visit to Tegg's Nose Country Park, while Easter Monday saw me walking from Walker Barn to Forest Chapel before I continued to the top of Shutlingsloe. A spot of stravaiging then followed before I settled into returning home via Langley. Tuesday of Easter was another day off from work for me, so I headed to Tatton Park for the afternoon. To complete the set, another trot along the Saddle of Kerridge would be in order, and that has yet to happen this year.
The end of April saw me cross over to Ireland for a spot of sorting, so it was the Mayday bank holiday weekend that was left to allow for further recuperation. Unlike the Easter weekend, this has not been as much of a walking one. The weather has been mixed, and I have been distracted by home computing matters. Aside from putting a computer to rights, I also got to set up a website dedicated to my late father's history writings. He set to trying to use a PC for the first time in his eighties and wanted me to teach him one Christmas after such a busy working year, that it was a break away from such things that I really needed. Disharmony sadly was the result and my mother was left wishing that no one had put the computing idea into his head, especially when his ability to learn was not what it once was, and he was never that technically minded anyway. As it happened, it was my mother who operated video (and DVD) players in their house.
An interest in history is something that I share with my father, so I am happy to put his essays online, albeit with a good amount of editing to prepare them for a wider audience. The whole archive is not online yet, and I am treating it like any website that I have: adding a little over time and tweaking things as I go along. That is how I have done this one and is how I plan to keep things.
Belatedly, I finished off the trip reports for all my walking outings in 2013, so those for 2014 are next on my to-do list. This year has yet to see me embarking on similar escapades, but I am thinking of having a longer summer holiday this year, so that may help. Between this and that, 2009 was the last summer escape that was not an elongated weekend, such as what happened in 2013 and again in 2014. There was a week off in 2011, but I stayed at home then because I more needed the rest before starting out with a new client at work. If 2015 allowed an opportunity like my exploring the Western Isles in 2008, who knows how much writing could appear on here after something like that.
Glenfinnan revisited
4th May 2015 This is the last instalment in my report of walks around Glen Coe and Lochaber during a hot weekend in July 2013. My day spent around Beinn a' Chrùlaiste has been recounted already and, on returning to Fort William that evening, I was pondering something easier for the next day. After all, it too was likely to be another hot one and some lower level walking was in order. What came to mind was reprising an out and back stroll along Loch Shiel that I had done under cloudy skies in January 2011. With blue skies and sun, more photos might be had and I headed over to Glenfinnan for some gentler Sunday afternoon strolling.
The train timetable allowed me a chance to attend to some needs in Fort William before I headed off for the afternoon. The train passed some alluring scenery on the way around Loch Eil, and took its time going over the world-famous Glenfinnan viaduct to give passengers a chance to have a look around them. Some may have made photos, though anything taken through a train window can be no substitute for being outside, especially with glare caused by bright sunshine.
On arriving at Glenfinnan train station, I did not hang about though its café was open and started on my way down the A830 towards my rendezvous with Loch Shiel. Folk were filing into the little Catholic church for 13:00 Sunday Mass as I passed, so life for locals was going on as ever. In contrast, my initial destination was the monument at the head of the loch that commemorates the raising of the standard that heralded the start of the Jacobite campaign that ended in defeat at Culloden. This was my first time seeing this in sunshine after the aforementioned winter visit in 2011 and a summertime encounter in 2001 while en route from Portree on the Isle of Skye to Oban, via Fort William and preceding a flying visit to Tobermory on the Isle of Mull.
Leaving that lonesome memorial to an ill-fated act of rebellion that caused the momentary outlawing of Highland culture, I went as if to return to the A830 but took a path shadowing it to reach the track along the southern shore of Loch Shiel. This was something that I found on the previous visit in 2011 and signs were in place showing that it was the work of the Forestry Commission, a then poignant note given the ongoing uncertainty about the future of publicly owned forestry land. Since that time, public protest materialised that made the U.K. government back down, so all is looking brighter than it once did. Not only is there a good path, but the handiwork also includes duck-boarding over soft ground and a bridge over the Callop River too. All this usefully negates the need for a long schlep along the A830 to reach the track leading from Callop to Loch Shiel.
The covering of forestry over the path from the monument to the track may have been sketchy in places but what was there offered some relief from the heat of the day. Increasingly from then on, the tree cover decreased and, soon enough, the oppressive heat was inescapable. Unlike my day around Beinn a’ Chrùlaiste, there was to be no puff of breeze to offer respite and the surrounding greenery along with any body of water looked a little delicate in the strong sunshine. Nevertheless, I made steady progress while relishing what lay about me.
The track down the side of Loch Shiel never is heaving with folk but I got the sense that it was less attractive to active folk than otherwise might have been for I had it to myself for most of the time. On that January visit, parties of cyclists had been out and about, but there were none to be seen this time around. In fact, the only person I remember seeing was a lone jogger and I marvelling at how she coped with the heat. Given that my spirit needed healing after the loss of my mother, solace from solitude was what I needed so I was not complaining at all in the still atmosphere.
For much of the way, I found that rocky topped hills ascended steeply from just beside the track, but things spread out a little around Guesachan where Allt Coire Ghiùbhsachain flowed into Loch Shiel after a short journey or two to three kilometres taking it on a steep descent from just under nearby Sgùrr Ghiùbhsachain and Sgorr Craobh a' Chaorainn. It was the latter that took up more photography time and others doing the same included Meall a' Bhainne, Sgorr nan Cearc and Meall na h-Airigh, all of which faced the right way away from the sun so lens flare could be avoided. The sight of each of these felt worth recording before I continued further along the loch.
Two factors might have me turning around prematurely to head back to Glenfinnan. One was how hot the day felt because the lack of any cooling breeze certainly made walking a little less pleasurable than it otherwise might have been. Then, covering steep untracked ground the preceding day had me wondering what my legs could manage. Even without either of these, I have a tendency for possible overcaution anyway because the return leg can be quicker than the outbound one. Sometimes, it is because height is being lost rather than gained and this was not one of those so it probably was down to seeing the same sights again and being able to leave the camera aside to continue onward.
In retrospect, this would make a good track for off-road cycling and the slightly faster pace would do it no disservice either. Then, I could travel further along before turning around and still enjoy the peaceful ambience. Interestingly, I saw some folk do something like that on my previous January visit so it remains a possibility for the folding bike that I have acquired since then.
After coming back from my stroll by the shore of Loch Shiel, I escaped out of the heat into the National Trust for Scotland visitor centre. Mainly, this was a café visit, but a few souvenirs were acquired in the shop too. After being indoors for a while, I pottered out again and found my way to the top of a hillock behind the visitor centre called Torr a' Choit. From this spot, I suspect that many a photo of Loch Shiel has been taken but such an errand needs to be a morning one and the sun was obstructing any such designs for my afternoon visit so I satisfied myself with photos of scenes around Glen Finnan with its world-famous railway viaduct. Up close, this concrete structure is not such a thing of beauty, but the setting is gorgeous and, when viewed from a distance, it does nothing to diminish its location.
After lingering a good while around Torr a' Choit, I made my way towards the railway station. Now that I recall this, I wonder why I did such a thing as early in the day as I did, for there was quite a while to go before the train was due to arrive. Maybe I thought that my speed of travel was not so speedy after strenuous exertions the day before. While at the train station, I noticed signs for waymarked walks and, with an increased sense of distance, I now chanced following one of these. It took me a little higher, but nothing like the sort of heights that I had scaled on the preceding day. Nevertheless, some of the views took the eye over greater distances with even the distinctive profile of Ben Nevis making an appearance. Mostly, the scenic delights were local to Glen Finnan as I dropped down towards the railway viaduct and made my way back towards the road again to retrace my steps. Temperatures were a little cooler than earlier, so there were others strolling about at lower levels and the sun worked its magic on the surrounding hills and glens.
Back at the train station for the last time of the day, I awaited that train back to Fort William. An easier day had not meant one with less mountain scenery to enjoy and being able to take things more slowly was something to relish too. Life in the preceding months had been a roller coaster ride and there was more to follow. Getting any respite immersed in glorious hill country only was going to help, and my visit has remained in my memory as much to coax a return as to bring a reminder of calm when life goes through one of its rough moments.
Travel arrangements:
Return train journey from Fort William to Glenfinnan.
A day spent around Beinn a’ Chrùlaiste
19th April 2015 My first memory of passing through Glen Coe dates from May 1998. It was Scottish Cup Final day and Heart of Midlothian won the match. My mind was on other things and I was making my first-ever trip to Fort William. It was not the sight of Rannoch Moor that stays with but that of seeing mountains emerge from the surrounding near level ground. At the time, it both gobsmacked and mesmerised me with the splendid sunshine falling on these marvels. In all my years in Ireland, I had not come across anything like this sight and I likened up to an upside egg carton. The analogy still remains with me now and my experience was a powerful next step from occasional incursions into Highland Perthshire that exposed me to what lies around Loch Tay. The way that the Tarmachan ridge extends and the shape of Ben Lawers were nothing like their western counterparts. In fact, they were more like MacGillycuddy's Reeks in profile and I had glimpsed those a good few times thanks to my parents' escapades.
For all the wonder of Glen Coe, it is striking that my visits to this part of Scotland have not been as frequent as those to other places. That now seems a travesty when I come to think just how many times that I passed along the A82 that goes right along the glen. Maybe it has been a payback that I did not have so much look whenever walking trips did take me there on foot. The first of these was a trot south from Kinlochleven along the West Highland Way on a day in August 2002 when clouds gradually hijacked the sky. The evening before had been spent in Glen Nevis so I was not offering any complaint.
It amazes me now to think that I played with the idea of going from Kingshouse Hotel to Kinlochleven via Beinn a' Chrùlaiste on a day that was as warm as the one on which I was planning a walk from the head of Glen Coe; this was during July 2013 when a heatwave came our way. However, there was another person who alighted near Kingshouse Hotel who had it in mind to walk from there to Glencoe village. It certainly would make for a lovely walk if it existed, apart perhaps from any hubbub of road traffic along the A82. As things stand, the National Trust for Scotland has been improving things near the aforementioned village so it might be a thought for the future.
It did not take long for the few of us who got off the coach to disperse and go our separate ways. My choice of route was to ensure that there was plenty of undisturbed peace coming my way for the rest of the day. Some may find the expanse of Scotland's Highlands intimidating but they do offer plenty of spaces where life's hustle and bustle can feel very far away indeed and that is what makes them so special for me. Even on the walk in from the A82 to Kingshouse Hotel did not feel so crowded and this was along a snippet of the West Highland Way too. That left me with plenty of opportunities to stop and take in the views that surrounded me and Buachaille Etiive Mor especially drew my photographic attention even though I had seen it loads of times in other people's photos. Sometimes, there is never any harm in having a memento of your own to have afterwards and everyone gets different weather and lighting too.
Later, I left the West Highland Way after me beyond the hotel, and made my day even quieter than it had been up to then. In fact, it was to be a good few hours spent with hardly a soul going my way and a bit of peace and quiet immersed in glorious scenery was just the tonic for me. First, I went a little along the track towards the Black Corries Lodge before leaving it to follow Allt a' Bhalaich uphill towards Coire Bhalaich. Though the steep south-western slopes of Beinn a' Chrùlaiste would have offered a way up to its summit, I chose to continue towards the bealach between it and nearby Meall Bhalach. Though the day was growing even hotter, there was a cooling breeze that counteracted the growing heat, so my slow steady progress over trackless ground was pleasant enough. Of course, the surrounding views helped too.
There was no let up on the gradient for the last stretch onto the bealach and I ended up a little higher than the 629-metre-high saddle point too. In the clear conditions, this more freestyle approach to navigation was no trouble and it further opened up views over Blackwater Reservoir too. Poring over maps afterwards, I came to the conclusion that I was being granted views of all sorts of hills to the north of me. Even the Grey Corries were within sight and I reckon that both Stob Coire Easain and Stob a' Choire Mheadoin appear above too and these are found beyond Loch Treig! One Mayday bank holiday weekend saw me traipse from Corrour train station to Spean Bridge underneath these and that gives me at least a little sense of how this crumpled landscape fits together.
The distance from the bealach to the top of Beinn a' Chrùlaiste felt longer than I had expected and I now reckon that my less direct approach had added at least a kilometre to my walking distance. As I picked my towards the trig point at the summit, there were plenty of northward views to keep me busy, even if my photographic efforts were bedevilled by heat haze though lens flare could have been a factor too. To see if I could make the results appear more like what I thought I was seeing in reality, I resorted to a Photoshop plugin and the above photo looking over the dam of Blackwater Reservoir has been produced using this. The main bulk of the Grey Corries are to be seen in the far distance with members of the Mamores such as Sgór Eilde Beag and Sgùrr Eilde Mòr to their left.
The additional height around the top of Beinn a' Chrùlaiste allowed me to do better with working out what I had been seeing on previous trots along the West Highland Way between Kinlochleven and Glen Coe. For one thing, the looming rocky dome of Ben Nevis could be picked out as well as the nearby pinnacle of Carn Mòr Dearg to its right in the above photo. With the position of Britain's highest mountain established, you can start picking members of the Mamores like Na Gruaigaichean, An Garbanach, An Gearanach, Stob Coire a' Chàirn, Am Bodach, Sgùrr an Iubhar and others. Even some of these may be tentative, but that, and the prospect of getting images unblemished by blue heat haze, can be another excuse to return to a fabulous part of the world.
Getting to the top of anywhere is one thing but getting back down again proves that any ascent is only part of the job. This so proved to be the case with Beinn a' Chrùlaiste even though the initial descent was down gentler gradients with additional views of what lay on the other side of Glen Coe. It was now that Buachaille Etive Mor and the Black Mount began to come back into view as I made my way to Stob Beinn a' Chrùlaiste with some boggy stretches still not dessicated by the summer heatwave. Things really got steep, with rough sections underfoot, on the way off Stob Beinn a' Chrùlaiste and I lost any cooling breeze too. Taking things slow and steady was the order of the moment with progress being frustratingly slow at times; nevertheless, it always is better not to become a mountain rescue statistic. As it happens, I have seen one route description for Beinn a' Chrùlaiste that started up the slopes that I was descending, and the author may have had a point in getting these out of the way early for even the descent took a lot out of me and I was glad to be by the side of the A82 again afterwards.
If my designs on getting to Kinlochleven were firm, they could have been behind time after yomping over Beinn a' Chrùlaiste. There still was a long summer evening ahead and I decided to have a go before letting discretion take the greater part of valour and returned to the roadside to catch a coach back to Fort William. The blue heat haze may not have dissipated anyway and I have got a lot from the day, so extending the walk might have been greedy of me. Nevertheless, staying with the route of the West Highland Way on a day as bright as the one that I got would be a delight and cooler temperatures would enhance the experience; it can await another opportunity. Other stunning sections of the trail such as that between Kinlochleven and Fort William or from Bridge of Orchy to the head of Glen Coe remaining tempting reprises too. There may be more hill wandering around here yet.
Transport arrangements:
Return Scottish Citylink coach journey between Fort William and Glen Coe.
