Wandering in the wild country
Sunday 7 October
The walk from Fort Augustus to Invermoriston is quite short (9 miles or so), which isn’t a full day’s walking. With the weather looking distinctly dodgy – walkers’ talk for driving showers and gale-force winds, we were somewhat optimistic in taking the high route, but we had a hankering for the views above the pine forests that dominate the shores of the loch.
We discovered during the day that there are two kinds of re-afforestation in the Highlands: the Forestry stuff that is clear-felled regularly, and gives the dark look to the walk, especially on the steep slopes where the lower branches aren’t trimmed; and the PAWS, which is Planting of Ancient Woodland Sites (love an acronym). These dominated the upper path and provided lots of autumn colours because of the variety of trees in the restored area. This was fine until we climbed up to the moorland and were totally exposed to the elements.
Enough of that later: the day began with that traditional way to while away the hours – church. The descendants of the Jacobite lords (Butes and Lovats and so forth) decided that the Highlands needed their very own Catholic revival, so Fort Augustus inherited its very own Benedictine monastery and public school (in the English sense) until changing enrolment patterns closed the school and eventually the abbey. The grand Pugin buildings are now a “resort”, the reputation of the school is in tatters because of misconduct by the monks, and the local Catholic meet in the old gate-house. At least they seem to have a bigger congregation that the Wee Frees up the road!
I could write at length about the odd Polish Jesuit and his rambling second-language homily: he wasn’t too far off the point but I zoned out and thought about the reading – that bloody divorce reading that always has everyone looking at their boots – and seriously considered a blog post on misreading the reading. However, it finished in perfect time to have us on our way without arriving too early for lunch at the Invermoriston pub, as we couldn’t check in to our B and B until 4 pm.
There aren’t too many photos of our walk. We had the wind at our backs and Paula spend the afternoon claiming that she was afraid of becoming airborne; but we were warm and dry and rather exhilarated by the countryside high above the loch. Taking pictures without soaking the camera involved crouching behind a windbreak and pressing the shutter with all speed. For that matter, relieving oneself involved the mechanics of manoeuvring out of waterproofs and gauging the wind direction with great care!
The rain-spots on the lens are a giveaway!
We enjoyed the walk across the top after the steep climb up, and the walk down even more with the prospect of a hot lunch and a beer (gin and lemon for Paula) at the Glenmoriston Arms. I’m perfectly happy to stop and read the paper or knock off another book after a good day’s walk. Tomorrow will be tougher and the weather no better, but the scenery is worth it.
