"Just think of something lovely"

Isn't that what Anaesthetists say as they are putting you under? "Just think of something lovely as you drift off to sleep". This day was one of those (up there with Torridon) I would bring to mind if ever I have to have surgery.

It started with a drive up Mam Ratagan pass, a steep and narrow old military road and through Glen More to get to the small hamlet of Glenelg. I had built up this road in my mind as being something difficult, still spooked by the trip down to Plockton. My mind was being stupid and it was a glorious drive - loads of passing places, decent road surface, most fabulous views. That was when I realised the reason the Plockton road had been so ghastly was because it was deeply wooded on both sides for much of the way making it more like driving in Devon: limited visibility and no chance to respond well in advance to other vehicles.



I did not linger in Glenelg, I was keen to head towards Gleann Beag down a dead end road to two of the most intact, fabulous brochs which remain in Scotland - Dun Telve and Dun Troddan. Although a couple of thousand years more recent than the Neolithic buildings I had hoped to explore on Orkney, these really did not disappoint and I spent far more time than any other visitor just sitting and thinking. Why were they built, how were they built, how were they used and by whom?



First, Dun Troddan:







click on this to enlarge if you want to read the info.












Parking THIS close to this much history? Amazing.




Something I have noticed from my many visits to Clava Cairns is that if you take your time then it is remarkably easy to "out stay" every other visitor and have the place entirely to yourself. Most visitors arrive, walk around the site, take photos, leave. Google claims that the average length of stay at Clava is 30 minutes and the same can be said of these amazing places.

Dun Telve:

















Sunshine, complete silence except for the ever-present Golden Eagles soaring overhead (more about them later in the day!) and thankfully not much distance to cover. I was hobbling around having done something incredibly stupid that morning. I "mis-stepped" getting out of the van first thing and turned my left ankle over. Hurt like hell but firmly strapped I was able to limp around slowly whilst giving thanks I drive an auto and did not have to think about a clutch and changing gear. But it was painful and meant I did not walk further up the valley to a chambered cairn and another broch. I really HAVE to go back!




I eventually tore myself away from this gorgeous valley and headed back to Glenelg, and on to the tiny spot where the Kylerhea ferry connects with Skye. After my fears about the Orkney ferry I contemplated taking this little turntable vessel the short distance across to Skye and then driving back to my camspite via the bridge. I parked at the cafe, bought one of the most crap cups of coffee I'd ever had accompanied by the most superb chocolate brownie ever to pass my lips (which I eaked out to three portions, it was far too unctious and rich to eat in one go!) and wandered down to the slipway.

And after a while I slowly walked back to the Blue Bus, gently patted her and whispered quietly "don't worry sweetie, we're not going on THAT", and took several deep breaths to calm the adrenaline because I knew I was not getting on a bloody ferry 😧. This fear is going to make some future explorations a bit difficult and one I am going to have to work at overcoming.








All things happen for a reason though. Instead of driving back via Skye I had to return the way I came - back through Glen More stopping at the viewpoint at Bealach Ràtagain.



I settled down on a bench with a drink and binoculars. Sure enough, there were the Golden Eagles - again - and as I could just about see Morvich in the distance I knew these were the same birds I had been watching from my campsite. They are very territorial and would have been the same pair I had seen at the brochs. Then the silence was thoroughly disturbed by a large group of visitors on massive bikes. Who parked up, got out their binoculars and came to watch the birds with me for the best part of an hour.






After being on my own for nearly two weeks the company was lovely, and with a group mostly from the north-east of England the non-stop jokes and gentle banter was hard to keep up with at times and hugely entertaining. We agreed that we could see a large juvenile who'd parked himself at the top of a nearby pine, possibly after a big feed, with what was probably Mum watching from another tree 100 yards or so away, and occasionally Dad (?) doing a flyby to make sure the family were OK. One of the bikers was very a knowledgeable birdwatcher and it was lovely to talk about behaviour, territory, food sources, and generally geek out.




A thoroughly special day, left me thinking (not for the first time) "Goddess, I am so lucky to be doing this".