I woke up feeling fine, and munched the last energy bar in the bag to get me going. The one problem was that we were out of water, and the day promised to be warm. I should have insisted on using the filter and filling up, but Sue looked so horrified at the thought of sheep water, and I felt so good, that we simply started walking.
I have to say that this last day, which should be magnificent as you walk over multiple ridges with every-widening views of Ben Nevis, should have been one of the highlights. But so much of the walk–at least the next three or four miles–is dominated by a massive clearcut (through the middle of which you are walking) that the spell was essentially broken for us. Especially after the remote magnificence of the Lairig Mor, it was a letdown.
Not that there weren’t compensations. As the Lairig bent around to the right, views of Ben Nevis opened.
We finally entered the woodlands that signaled our approach to Glen Nevis, and were soon trudging up the last climb, again through clearcut, that the guide fittingly describes as “unwelcome.”
At the crest, we joined a large logging road, and completed our descent into the glen along its switchbacks. The views of the Ben Nevis ridge were magnificent, but the road was large, and tedious, and we were getting hot and thirsty…and, truth be told, we smelled the barn.
The logging road hugged the southern slopes of Glen Nevis, and views gradually opened down the glen to Fort William and up the glen into the high mountains around Ben Nevis.
After what seemed like a couple of miles of logging road walking, we finally descended into Glen Nevis and the main road, and headed west and toward Fort William in search of the Ben Nevis Inn. We didn’t know quite what it was, but the books said it was far better than the rather homogenized places along the road.
The trouble was, we couldn’t figure out where it was. We finally stopped at the Ben Nevis Visitor Center at the head of the main tourist trail up the mountain, and found out the Inn was across the river and up the mountain, behind a working farm–another fifteen minute walk.
We both changed into tee shirts and drank our fill of water, and we were ready for our last mile. The walk was actually lovely, through the farm fields and up a track to what looked like a large stone barn–although I was pretty much all in between physical exertion and emotional exhaustion. The Ben Nevis Inn has to be one of the best pubs in the UK. Fabulous views out the windows and from the terrace of the mountain scenery, and really memorable food. The parsnip / apple / chili soup that I ate was the only soup I can still remember. And the BLT on ciabatta tasted like NY, not a remote glen.
Not the best picture ever taken of me…but a very accurate rendering of how I felt!
We officially declared the Ben Nevis Inn the end of our walk. We had no desire to do a further two miles of road walking through Fort William–all so that some woolen mill gets some ad space.
Things I wouldn’t have missed for the world: our first fell walking near Dumgoyne; the first moorland around Conic Hill and the hill itself; camping alongside the lake; the walk down through the forest with views of Ben Lomond; stealth breakfast at Rowardennan Lodge; no matter how tough, the walking close to Loch Lomond over ridge and under burn; the first highland sheep farms on the approach to Crianlairich; the feeling of entering the highlands as we crested the rise above Tyndrum; the walk under Ben Dorainn; Bridge of Orchy Hotel; the entire walk across the Black Mount and Rannoch Moor; the King’s House; Glencoe; the views of the Mamores from the path below the Devil’s Staircase; the Lairig Mor; and the soup at the Ben Nevis Inn.
Pedro’s Taxi picked us up in short order at the Ben Nevis Inn. The charming and loquacious driver took us right to the rental agency, where our hot Ford Mondeo was ready and waiting. Ominously, we were warned that tire damage was not insured!
Everything started well: we stopped at a petrol station and got a good road map, and off we went along the A82 toward Invergarry. Unfortunately, I succumbed to the same problem I had had in London with a larger car (though our Mini was flawless): I was wary of getting too close to the oncoming traffic, and hit a curb pretty hard, taking a chunk out of the sidewall. That pretty much put me on edge for the rest of the afternoon.
The scenery along the Great Glen was lovely but not stunning. We drove down the shores of Loch Lochy, turning at Invergarry toward Glen Garry. It was only when we turned north at the end of Loch Loyne and then turned west toward Loch Cluanie that we began to get a sense of the grandeur of the mountains along the west coast. As we came to Loch Duich, we were engulfed in the remarkable landscape of Kintail, dominated by the Five Sisters north of the road. As we passed through Kintail and the road turned due west along the north shore of the Loch, we began to get views of the mountains on Skye…and soon those views rose up from behind Eilan Donan castle on its island in the loch.
Finding the road to Arbusaig from Kyle of Lochalsh was pretty easy, and, even though it was our first piece of single track this trip, we were soon at the Tingle Creek Hotel (named, as we learned, after a racehorse; the original owners had built the place with their winnings from a bet on the horse).
Arbusaig is nothing more than a few houses and the hotel, but the situation of the village and Tingle Creek is spectacular: it sits on a cove with fishing boats over which hovers a panoramic view of Skye from the Cuillens north.
The decor was a bit of a west highland mishmash, with lots of tartan, but the common areas and our room were perfectly comfortable, and we had a very nice bath with lots of space for hanging our freshly washed hiking clothes.
A nice young man at the desk got us a table at the Plockton Inn in the snug (we ate in the lounge bar two nights later), and, after a well-deserved siesta, we drove over the single track road we came to know well. It starts with the most spectacular stand of gorse that we saw on the whole trip, and winds its way through some moorland before descending to a mixture of farms and woodland.
The Plockton Inn specializes in seafood…and it is a terrific dining experience, with a wonderful atmosphere and delicious food.
