Quieter times

Sunday evening was spent in the relative luxury of a holiday lodge overlooking Loch Goil, thanks to the hospitality of former colleagues from John Lewis who have been following my progress, and realised that I'd be very close to them over this last weekend.  Given the overnight rain, I was all the more grateful for their offer.

The majority of Monday's walk was down the western shore of Loch Goil, passing Carrick Castle, towards Ardentinny and Loch Long.  It's an area with significant WW2 and Cold War history and there is still a significant military presence in the area, including the home of the UK's nuclear weapons.

The main thing on my mind during the morning, however, was how I would get completely along the lochside, as there was a gap of about 500m without a marked path.  Fearing private property en route, I'd wondered if I might need to take to the beach to join the gap, but I was passing through the gap around high water, so that was as a potential issue.  I needn't have worried:

There followed a lovely trail through some forest (no logging operations this time!) which came out at the small bay at Ardentinny, somewhere that I'd previously visited by boat.  My first glimpse of the Firth of Clyde felt significant: although I still have several days of walking in Scotland before me, the lochs and mountains are now largely behind.  I spent a bit of time during my lunch break just remembering some of the early days of pilgrimage.

Loch Goil joins Long Loch, then a few miles south, Holy Loch.  Again, a place with military connections but, in common with much of the area adjacent to the Clyde, a place for recreation and leisure.  In the early 19th century, 'trips down the watter' gained in popularity as the population of industrial Glasgow sought somewhere to escape the fumes and dirt of the city.  Holy Loch and Dunoon both share plenty of evidence of this, including their piers an other traditional Victorian seaside architecture.  Today's ferry plies her trade across the same route to Gouruck, where I arrived on Tuesday morning after a night in the tent at a small site at the head of Holy Loch.

After a somewhat grey start to the day, things slowly brightened up as I headed south along the Clyde and Ayrshire Coastal Paths.  The last few miles took me above the shoreline itself, a place to savour views across the Clyde over Great Cumbrae, towards Bute, with the Kintyre Peninsula in the background as I headed towards Largs to meet up with friends who are hosting me overnight nearby.

To finish, those of you familiar with a particular Scottish folk song might find this amusing.  I'll let you guess which route I took!

Blessings

A good day of walking, once again covering 20 miles or thereabouts.  When I was planning this section of the walk, Oban to the Firth of Clyde, it was clear that I'd have a few longer walks on the trot: the habitation is more spread out, there are fewer campsites, likewise potential spots for wild camping.  The feet are holding up well, thankfully.

The highlights of today started with a wander around Inverary, visiting the (outside of!) the historic jail, the impressive main street and pausing for prayer outside the two churches.

Loch Fyne has gained a global reputation for its seafood cuisine, including oysters and other fish, and I also passed a local brewery at the loch head.  With the abundance of fish, it's no surprise that I spotted oystercatchers on several occasions, but never quite quick enough with the camera.

Shortly after turning east at the loch head, I walked through the small loch-side village of Cairndow, where I found Kilmorich church open.   I spent a little while in prayer before enjoying my lunch out of the showers, before looking round at this historic octagonal-shaped building.

Just along from the church is Ardkinglas Woodland Garden, again with historical significance.  Some beautiful aromatic moments as I walked through on the public path.

The last stretch of the journey was through Glen Beag aka Hell's Glen, eventually leading alongside the River Goil and to my destination.  Given "Hell's Glen" it was a surprise to find Moses' Well at the side of the road, a chance to top up my water bottle even though I was almost at the end of my day of surprises.

Allsorts

My rest day in Oban began very unexpectedly - I'd posted a short update on Facebook, seen by a school friend.  He sent me a message...within a couple of hours we were having a coffee together, catching up and renewing friendship in person after almost four decades since we left school.  It really felt a lot less than that, and there's the possibility of getting together on his recently acquired sailing yacht.

After the day off, my route out of Oban returned to NCN78, heading East towards Taynuilt where I stopped for a cuppa and to get a few provisions.  The morning's walk took me through Glen Lonan, which has a different, lusher feel, with woods, fields and isolated farmhouses.  I've since discovered that it is part of 'The Road of Kings,'  famed as the ancient funeral route of Scotland's Kings to their final resting place on the island of Iona.  There are also remains of Bronze Age settlements, including some standing stones.

East from Taynuilt, the road and railway both follow the north side of the River Awe which gradually opens up into Loch Awe itself.  Both sides of the river are steep, so i was a little concerned about where I might find a suitable spot to camp (there being no campsites, nor suitably priced accommodation) so was pleased to spot a large enough piece of shore just south of Lochawe village.

My largely peaceful night was interrupted by the sound of rainfall, which became the main feature of Saturday's walk to Inverary.  Pick your favourite synonym for wet, and it was all that and more. I'd have loved to have shared something of the Awe-some views en route but there were none, just the wet stuff.

My home for the night is Inverary Hostel, right on the edge of the town, itself on the west side of Loch Fyne.  I'm hoping to have a look around tomorrow before heading towards Lochgoilhead where former colleagues are staying for a few days, have made contact in the last couple of days, and invited me to join them in a holiday lodge there as I pass through.

Just to show that the rain did eventually clear...the 'Vital Spark,' a nationally recognised historic ship, now sits at the pier in Inverary just along from my bed for the night.

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No cuckoo today

One of the first sounds I heard amidst the peace and tranquility of the Cape Wrath peninsula was the distinctive call of a cuckoo. I've heard one every day that I've been on the move, until today. I imagine that reflects a subtle change in landscape during my route from my overnight stop at Barcaldine, partly through grazing land, the rest alongside the busy Fort William to Oban road.  The road is well used by cyclists, so there's a separated cycle-footpath, part of the Caledonia Way, running from Oban to Inverness (National Cycle Route 78), which in the area immediately north of Oban and Connel, mostly follows a disused railway line.  With the excellent signage, my walk into Oban went smoothly, despite the rain which made an unwanted return.

The route crosses Loch Etive at Connel Bridge, originally just a railway bridge, then dual purpose, now just with road traffic.  It's currently under repair, and in order to maintain my safety whilst walking across, the traffic was held in both directions!

During my extended walk on Tuesday (see below) I'd had to eat most of my provisions for today (Wednesday) in order to keep going for a few more hours.  Whilst talking last night with some neighbouring campers about the day's events, I was generously offered a packed lunch - thank you Nicky and Garry, equally Cathy for the cake - once more the generosity of strangers taking me by surprise.

So, to Tuesday!  The first stop of the day was in Ballachulish for provisions, and I also enjoyed a coffee in the Quarry Visitor Centre which also hosts local information.  Well worth a look.  I had chosen to walk through Glen Creran, a straightforward route more or less direct to Barcaldine where I planned to camp. 

All well and good until I came across a diversion due to forestry work.  Oh well, but by mid-afternoon I'd covered around 15 miles (fine) but with about 14 to go (not fine).  I considered stopping where I was, but that would have left a subsequent long walk to Oban.  Either way, it had to be done.

With plenty of water with me, food and snacks, and a straightforward and mostly flat route along NCN78, I decided to continue, finally arriving at the campsite almost 12 hours after setting off.  The smile in the following is genuine, I was pleased to have arrived; whilst understandably tired at the end of almost 30miles on foot, I felt OK, testament to the advice of many to keep hydrated and well-fed.  I do have the second blister of the whole trip to show for my efforts.

In one sense, I will remember that for the physical challenge of the walk, but over the past few days I've appreciated more and more of the countryside through which I'm passing.  On Sunday, Monday and Tuesday, I've walked alongside a different loch each day, through a different glen, passed the source of a different river and much more.  In parallel to those larger scale features, the almost imperceptible early white buds of heather have also begun to show;  and whilst we're talking about small things, the midges are definitely out!

Milestones

Tuesday was my 22nd day on the move, assuming that my itinerary holds to the 66 planned walking days, that means I'm a third of the way through.  I've also crossed into Argyll and Bute, out of the Highlands.  Although I am far from finished with the West Coast, the maps which I posted to Oban where I'm now staying include ones which cover the Firth of Clyde where I hope to be in a week's time.

A day off now, space to enjoy Oban, before heading further east.

More blue skies

After I posted yesterday's blog entry, I returned to my camping spot for the night to find that my tent had been uprooted from its spot in the local park.  After I'd tidied up and making up my mind about what to do, a local resident came along and made it clear that my choice of campsite wasn't acceptable.  I've experienced hospitality and welcome everywhere I've been so far, so with the weather set fair and plenty of time before dusk, I decided to head off and find another spot for the night.  About an hour's walk south is the small village of Salen, which surrounds a small natural harbour where I found a cosy spot on the foreshore next to the public hall.

A good night's 'rest' because there was a considerable 'dusk chorus' including several different bird species: I'm not knowledgeable enough to be able to name them all, but certainly including a cuckoo, and once dusk had passed, a barn owl.  With the short hours of darkness, it wasn't long before the dawn chorus, and so I was up and off well before 9.

It seems to be a loch a day at the moment, today's amazing views where along the north shore of Loch Sunart, accompanied by the ancient oak forests of the area (in common with Loch Moidart) which provided plenty of shade in the rising temperatures.

A fairly straightforward walk along to Strontian, where I paused to eat lunch and buy provisions for my evening meal, before the final mile to the Ariundle Centre which hosts a local craft centre, cafe-restaurant and hostel style accommodation.  Certainly a good welcome, and I've spent the afternoon relaxing and dealing with some washing.  It's a good day for drying!

Lighting up

There's certainly been a stark contrast in the weather conditions since I resumed walking on Thursday, two weeks to the day since my journey along the SE Coast of Skye.  The mostly grey skies of May have been replaced by deep blue, alongside which the rich browns of moor and mountain are increasingly green with heather in leaf.  Gorse yellow has been supplemented with lilac rhododendron in bloom.

The last three days walking have therefore mostly felt easier, starting with around 10 miles south from Mallaig, along a stretch of coast renowned for its silver sands, particularly in the entrance to Loch Morar (pictured here) but continuing for several miles, reminiscent of the views on the north coast when I was staying in Durness.

With the clearer conditions, views over to Skye were plentiful from my overnight campsite, a couple of miles inland (and the only one with any space) just north of Arisaig.

I set off early on Saturday, with a longer stretch ahead, around 20 miles to Glenuig, a small village where I'd imagined that I might be the only person wild-camping.  Nothing could have been further from the truth, with about a dozen of us all in small tents squeezed into a small patch near both the beach and the community centre - cyclists, kayakers, motorbikers and a couple of walkers.  The community centre is well set up with loos and showers available for a modest fee, equally a community-run shop as well as a busy hotel/pub.  All in all a great place to stop, with view to boot. 

 

It was just what I needed after a difficult afternoon when I struggled a bit with the heat,  despite being well hydrated, equally well fed having been given a large piece of fruit cake by a group of passing cyclists who I passed whilst they were having a stop.  The late morning had been equally warm, but the cooling wind disappeared in the afternoon, making a difference.

Today's walk onwards to Acharacle was thankfully straightforward, through Moidart with its connections with Bonnie Prince Charlie, equally some stunning views of the native oak forest.  I arrived just after lunchtime, my pack up shared with a fellow walker who I came across in a lay-by as we crossed over into Glen Shiel.

(pictured is the site of the Seven Men of Moidart, sevven beech trees planted in memory of the seven companions who landed with Bonnie Prince Charlie at Loch nan Uamh on 25 July 1745. Not all the seven trees have survived, with replacements nearby).  Not sure if the camera has done justice to the deep blue of the sky alongside the verdant greens surrounding the whole area, a SSSI.

Looking ahead, I plan to be in Strontian tomorrow, where there's a small hostel, before heading onwards towards Oban where I hope to be mid-week.

Familiar territories

Mallaig looked resplendent in the afternoon sunlight as the train arrived, five and a half hours after leaving Glasgow.  The port looks and feels very different to when I left here almost a fortnight ago, today was certainly warmer, but growth of gorse and heather is noticeably more advanced.   En route, in equally sharp contrast to the journey to Glasgow, the return through the West Highlands was one of almost uninterrupted stunning views across moor, mountain and loch alike.  I spent most of the journey simply soaking up the views alongside the line, living 'in the moment' of all that passed.  One benefit of the relatively twisty line, equally in parts on a softer foundation by necessity, is that the train takes a fairly gentle pace so there's time to take lots in.

Having stayed in the Mission Bunkhouse in the centre of Mallaig two weeks ago, I needed little 'checking in' so took managed an early evening walk, although it felt much like mid-afternoon as the sun was still relatively high and only a gentle breeze.  The forecast for tomorrow looks similar - I'm intending just a shorter walk to get back into my stride as I begin the next week's route which I'm hoping will get me down to Oban before a rest day there next Thursday.

                        (view over to Skye)

Friendships

I took the opportunity of being in Glasgow overnight to meet up with sailing friends from John Lewis, and this morning to have a coffee with a friend in ministry met 'remotely' during the pandemic.  We'd not met in person before today, so it was good to do so, and share in conversation on a variety of topics.

We touched on the purpose of sabbaticals, not just periods of sabbatical, but other regular periods of leisure, including each week and taking holiday.  And how should we spend that time?  

Obviously for this sabbatical, I've chosen to embark on something of a physical challenge: you might reasonably ask whether it is restful.  In one sense, no, I have been physically tired at the end of several days, but sleep and regular rest days seem to be handling that.  But what about other aspects of life?

Heart, soul, mind, strength

In response to some reading I've been doing, I've pondered on some words of scripture: You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. ( Deuteronomy 6:5)  These words from Hebrew scripture (for Christians, often referred to as the Old Testament) command God's people to offer all aspects of life to God.

In the Northumbria Community Morning Prayer which I use, heart/soul/might is expanded and reworded to heart/soul/mind/strength.  I'm no philosopher, but if each of these contributes to our whole being, then how does 'sabbatical' work for each?

I am beginning to feel refreshed in other ways - there's something energising for the soul about looking at the beautiful spots I've already encountered, and in the moving along there have been repeated moments of complete stillness, interrupted only by the rhythmic sounds of boots on the path.  That outer stillness has brought something peaceful within, what I sense a better mindfulness: whether that has a lasting impact, only time will tell, but as some have commented, some of that has been reflected in the style of this blog.  

Oh, and I'm enjoying it, even taking into account the days when the weather has been poor.  Certainly not one of those today!

           (Mallaig Harbour in the background)