Jolly nice walks No. 872:
The Majestic Highlands of Scotland
by Trevor and Pippa Golden-Retriever
"Into the Realms of Splendour": The Majestic Highlands of Scotland
For our 872nd family walk in these beautiful Islands we don our kilts, shoulder our claymores, tune up the pipes and, with a swift "Ochaye the Noo!", travel to that beautiful playground for the visitor, The Highlands of Scotland. In this exquisite corner we travel in the steps of, rub shoulders with, and pursue the wraiths of such notables as Bonnie Prince Charlie, The Marquis of Montrose, and Terry Wogan.
We start our walk at the lay-by near Auchnachreach, or Bluebell Dell as we like to call it. The drive is a little hairy on a single track road, and some of the locals inconsiderately slow up traffic with their tractors, school buses and so on, but you should get there eventually! Achnachrach is a tiny village, just a cluster of homes above the brook (or burn as it is called); fortunately, a new landlord has recently bought the estate and has given notice of eviction to his tenants, so it should be possible before long to buy these houses. The new landlord must be commended for his vision.
Then we swing into Gleann Luach-an-Dubhain (pronounced: Glen London); an awe-inspiringly wild, peaty wilderness with mighty mountain peaks on three sides. At one time the view was marred by the buildings of a township, but fortunately during "The Highland Clearances" the people were moved on and the buildings fell into disrepair, leaving the exquisite scene we see today. The Highland Clearances also inspired lots of jolly romantic Victorian paintings; we are privileged to own a few which adorn the walls back home in the Olde Abattoire Cottage.
At the foot of the soaring cliffs, gaze upward and you may catch the late afternoon sun glinting on the grey quartzite summit rocks of Stob Garbh Mor; although a truly magnificent peak, this mountain only reaches 2495 feet, and is therefore of no interest to hillwalkers, whether Munro- or Corbett-Baggers.
Returning in fading light to your car, you will feel that you have been a stranger within the gates of the mansion of the Mountain Gods; and, like us, you will drive to your hotel with one thought: Where's the nearest estate agent?
Next issue - Round Little Witheringtoft, a thimble-making village in the Cotswolds.
TAC 10 Index