Lochan na h’Achlaise, Rannoch Moor, Scotland. With Stob Ghabhar and Clach Leathad in the distance, Black Mount to the right.
It could be argued only long journeys are worthwhile undertakings, certainly the lengths of which determine how much more we appreciate arriving at the intended destination. Nothing truer could be said about my voyage (mission!) to Scotland from the south west – though I write this on the eve of my trip to Hong Kong, despite a similar journey time length the distance covered is several times greater, isn’t modern travel great! I digress. After packing the car with everything required; necessary clothing, my trusty Canon cameras, an assortment of lenses, Macbook Pro and a somewhat sleepy dog – slotted somewhere under a bag of waterproofs and the Gitzo tripod – the wheels began rolling at 2am. I of course ensured I was surrounded by all manner of sugary goodness with a good air supply on hand to boot. To paraphrase an all time classic (and favourite of mine);
“It’s 562 miles to Scotland, we’ve got a full tank of gas, 3 packets of midget gems, it’s dark and my sunglasses are in here somewhere…”
“Hit it!”
The route was to take me up past the Lake District, around Glasgow and almost to Fort William before hopping on a ferry to cut a good hour off the journey time and eventually my final stop at Ardnamurchan. I sat for a pleasant few hours, cocooned in my speeding steel capsule, the big towns slipping by in the darkness either side of my 3-laned vision as I drove on; Birmingham, Manchester, Lancaster and all to the accompnyment of various podcasts and excellent tunes on my fully loaded iPod.
7am – I saw the dawn light rise across a slightly choppy Ullswater in the Lake District, to the west of Penrith, where a grateful rest and fill up was found. Not being pressed for time wheels didn’t get going again until about 9 but it was worth it.
11am saw me approach Glasgow, make a slight detour through the centre (thanks to unexpected roadworks) and then come back out again alongside Loch Lomond. A fine rain filled the windscreen as ‘The Road to the Highlands’ began, the weather seemed rather ominous as I peered out of the persistently fogging-up window but kept my spirits going by having a quick stop near Rob Roy‘s (Liam Neeson in most recent popular culture!) cave on Loch Lomond where a visitor centre has maps etc to help get your bearings. I felt a little sorry for the coachload of American tourists heading out on a loch cruise, visiblity was so low you really couldn’t see more than a few hundred metres but if you’d come all this way you may as well give it a go. Being part Scottish, my name is a bit of a give away there, I am linked to a Clan that originates on the shores of Loch Lomond, Clan Colquhoun. There wasn’t much about it in the visitor centre, actually none at all, but with such dire weather you had to feel for those back in the 13-14th century eking out a living without today’s conveniences. It was still some way to go until reaching my destination so I bundled a rather wet dog back into the car and pressed on. I was pleasantly surprised when reaching the head of the loch to be met by clearing skies and beyond some of the most dramatic scenery possible. Vast peaks rose either side of valleys as the road wound along, steadily rising as it went. Soon the skies had cleared for the most fantastic weather, blustery with large white clouds scudding along beneath blue skies. I rounded a corner and suddenly it dawned on me I had reached Rannoch Moor, the weather was too good not to stop for photos so, to the alarm of the driver behind who insisted on being a mere 3 feet off my bumper, I pulled into a lay-by to get out and admire the view as Lochan na h’Achlaise spread out before me with Stob Ghabhar and Clach Leathad in the distance, Black Mount to the right. I didn’t linger too long as the winds started to bite and I clambered back into the warmth of the car – not before the dog tried to kill himself by jumping in front of a speeding car of course! Muppet Dog 1: Car 0 (thankfully).
A few miles down the road lies the imposing Buchaille Etive Mor (apparently it’s one of the most photographed scenes in the UK), my photograph hardly lives up to what else is out there and certainly I wasn’t anywhere near that magical hour to get good light on it but with the opportunity to stretch the legs again I decided to stop and see what all the fuss is about. Granted, it really is quite a site to behold, a towering and dark pyramidal peak rising from the flat of Rannoch Moor with Glen Etive behind it but you can’t help but feel a sense of ‘in everyone else’s [tripod] feet, and their dog’s’ when looking up at – so widely has the view been published my image is merely another take, merely a record of having been there than a work of art but I tried my own spin on it at least.
Then it was a short hop to the Corran Car Ferry where a stormy front threatened to hit as we crossed but thankfully it was only a light spatter and we made it to the other side rather uneventfully (I was hoping for more excitement but ho hum). It was then only another short hop to Ardnamurchan. The light was still good so I headed out to Ardtoe beach not far away from where I was staying and caught the last few rays, not a bad way to end a very long day.
