Torrin, Skye

Bla Bheinn from Strath Suardal  

Bla Bheinn and Garb bheinn from Loch Slappin

Rum

Last cottage at Suisnish, Rum behind

Suisnish forest

Red Cuillin from Loch Slappin

 Wool at Camas Malag beach

Beinn Sgriol from Isle Ornsay

24 February, 2013

With the prospect of yet another glorious day as the high pressure settled over the north-west of Scotland, we thought about a trip to Raasay, one of the few islands yet to be visited and home of the great poet Sorley MacLean. We met a couple who lived there and were told that there was only one ferry on Sunday and that the hotel and cafes were closed. We should have gone but a relaxed breakfast meant that we were too late for the only ferry so we drove across the bridge to Skye and drove down to Torrin. 

The Strathaird estate is now owned by the John Muir Trust, previously it had been owned and developed by Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull. It contains the spectacular peaks of Bla Bheinn and Garbh Bheinn but we headed for Loch Slappin to the beach at Camas Malag where I had camped the last time I climbed Bla Bheinn. I was tempted to repeat the climb on such a perfect day, my last two outings on Bla Bheinn have been in dire weather, but days like this with Aileen are special, Bla Bheinn can wait.

Our objective was one of the villages, Suisnish, razed to the ground during the Highland clearances. The walk along a good track alongside Loch Slappin allowed us to be mesmerised by the views - Bla Bheinn, Rhum and the mountains of the Cuillin ridge revealed themselves peak by peak as we distanced from Camas Malag. Suisnish was reached and after visiting the ruins of the old shielings, we had a break by the last remaining shepherd's cottage, which had been occupied until 1960. It was a superb location as was the site of the old village facing the sea and the sun to the southwest, an aspect that also guaranteed prevailing winds. Over 300 people were evacuated to make way for sheep and boats set sail from Sleat for Australia and Nova Scotia. Many died in transit and Sorley MacLean, a tireless chronicler of injustice and poverty, captures the devastation in his poem Hallaig.

If it doesn't, I'll go to Hallaig, 
To the sabbath of the dead, 
Down to where each departed 
Generation has gathered.

Hallaig is where they survive, 
All the MacLeans and MacLeads 
Who were there in the time of Mac Gille Chaluim: 
The dead have been seen alive,

......

And coming back from Clachan 
And Suisnish, their land of the living, 
Still lightsome and unheartbroken, 
Their stories only beginning.

On the return walk, we met an elderly farmer on his quad bike taking feed for the healthy-looking sheep.   The beach at Camas Malag was attracting the afternoon walkers. It was still only 3pm so we drove around to Isle Ornsay where a fine hotel, a relic of the 1950s including its clientele and attitudes, is immaculately maintained and sits overlooking Loch Hourn. Isle Ornsay is a safe anchorage for yachts to moor during the passage through the Inner Sound and we had both stayed here during sailing trips in the late 1970s.

There has been a lot of recent housebuilding with new houses vying for views over the fabulous Loch Hourn where Beinn Sgriol and Ladhar Bheinn provide the pillars of a skyline that has few peers, even in this part of the world. The Inner Sound is home to sea eagles and otters making this a wonderful corner of Skye - off the beaten track but only 15 minutes from the Skye Bridge. Some locals told me that the finest short walk was over the Skye Bridge and certainly as we drove over as the evening light faded it seemed that they might be right, numerous locals were promenading over the bridge with that glint of disbelief that views like this inspire. A walk for future visits.

Shieldaig

Shieldaig

Loch Shieldaig

Liathach across Loch Torridon

Junction of the Applecross new road

Torridons from Shieldaig peninsular

Looking North across Loch Shieldaig

Looking across Inner Sound to Skye

Skye from north of Applecross

Raasay and Skye

Skye from Bealach na Ba

Shieldaig is one of those places that imprints an indelible image in the memory; a line of white cottages facing the loch where Shieldaig island showboats its stand of Scots Pine. In 1970 I spent 3 days camping at the free campsite by the war memorial when working as a student and carrying out a survey for the new road to Applecross. It is also one of Aileen's favourite places, she had stayed on the same campsite with some French friends whilst studying at Edinburgh. Since then I have passed through a dozen or so times on my way to and from the Torridons and Aileen is always keen to visit if we are in Wester Ross. There is a friendly shop and hotel that serves local seafood. It has hardly changed in forty years, even the campsite remains although the school/community has acquired a tennis court, football pitch and outdoor swimming pool.

Today we walked from the war memorial, past the primary school northwards to the Shieldaig peninsular. The trail follows the coast past old shielings and then towards an open moor that overlooks Upper Loch Torridon. The walk provides a promenade facing the greatest of all Scottish mountains: the Torridons. It was magical and kept us occupied for a couple of hours; following the coast, climbing the highest point and then dawdling back reluctant to leave such a glorious place. We had a late snack lunch in the Shieldaig Hotel before setting out again to extract every moment and view from this remarkable day.

We followed the new coast road to Applecross that I had helped survey and I was galvanised into photographic action every time that Raasay and Skye hove into view. A coffee at the splendid Applecross Hotel and then over Bealach na Ba, stopping for me to run to the summit of the nearby Corbett and to leave the bealach just as the sun was finally extinguished by the Skye ridge. Some day.

Sgurr an Airgid

Sgurr an Airgid

Ben Attow

Five Sisters from Sgurr an Airgid

Loch Duich and Causeway

Friday, 23 February 2013

Ascent:      880 metres

Distance:   10 kilometres

Time:        3 hours 12 minutes

c   Sgurr an Airgid   842m        1hr 55mins

The day after the perfect day is always an anticlimax. I had planned to climb the Applecross corbetts but a blanket of grey cloud and the need to be down by 3pm to meet Aileen who was arriving by bus made me think again. Several people had mentioned that Sgurr an Airgid was an impressive hill and it was nearer the bus route. It gave me a chance to have a leisurely breakfast and read a bit before setting out. The view of the five sisters as I drove along Loch Duich set the pulse racing. I parked by the cemetery just a couple of hundred metres along the Strath Croe road and as I set out a farmer stopped and pointed to the nearby gate saying that the stalker's path was up there and not to follow the guidebooks that sent you a mile up the road and you then had to double back. 

He was right and I was soon climbing at the steady gradient designed for ponies on a long traverse that ran to the northeast. The path faded once or twice before becoming a series of zig-zags and crossing a deer fence at 300 metres. Beyond the path continues to a col at about 600 metres. My instincts told me to cut off and head westwards at about 530 metres and it was a wise decision, there was a grassy ramp before reaching the parallel ridges that take you to the summit plateau. I took the southerly and less used route so that I could enjoy the views of Beinn Sgriol and Skye. It became quite rocky and then there were fingers of rock-hard snow leading to the summit. I met a couple from Plockton who were descending and we had a long conversation during which we were regaled by an eagle swooping across the summit plateau.

I had lots of time so I put on a jacket and sat at the summit for about twenty minutes whilst I had lunch and perused the map. The descent was quick using the snow shutes and then the excellent path and I was down by just after 2pm. I had an hour and a half to kill before the bus arrived. I visited the attractive village of Balmacara and then did a bit of beachcombing before meeting Aileen. We drove over to the timeless village of Duirinish, where highland cattle graze on the common land that the road passes along, and then crossed the railway and found a new coastal walk at Port an-eorna where we watched the light fade and the sunset over Loch Alsh.

All days have their rewards that can assault any of the senses. Yesterday had been about the sight, sound and feeling in the mountains; today was about touch and taste. Aileen had arrived and we retired to the Inn at Plockton which provided us with an exquisite meal of fresh local seafood to go with a glass of wine and a local beer. 

Five Sisters 

Coire Lair Munros

Start of the Coire Lair path

Sgorr Ruadh and Beinn Liath Mhor from Coire Lair

Beinn Liath Mhor summit 

Liathach and Beinn Eighe from Beinn Liath Mhor

Liathach

Emili Sande rock sculpture - she's everywhere

Sgorr Ruadh - the final ascent

Torridon skyline from Sgorr Ruadh

Sgorr Ruadh summit with Chris

Beinn Damph and Maol Chean-dearg from Sgorr Ruadh

The walkout -  River Lair

Ascent:    1345metres
Distance:  18 kilometres
Time:      7 hours 25 mins

m  Beinn Liath Mhor    926m   2hrs 42mins   
m  Sgorr Ruadh            962m   4hrs 58mins

Some rare days just take your breath away and this was one. I had drooled over the forecast for the northwest and drove up on Wednesday afternoon. A deep frost overnight had brought with it the perfect day - cold clear air, pure blue skies and a whisper of wind to prevent overheating on the climb. It took half an hour from the cottage near Plockton to reach the start of the walk at Achnashellach station and the temperature was -3°C. There was parking for ten cars and just one other walker was getting ready. Chris was a climber from Sheffield, we started out at the same time and agreed to walk together.

We crossed the railway and entered the magical forest trail that follows the river which is an example of the fine path engineering that is typical in these parts. We split up at the junction with Chris going up the direct route to Beinn Liath Mhor and myself following the path into Coire Lair, I had done the direct route on three previous occasions and the gentler ascent into the Coire was more appealing and would give views from the Coire of the rock girt architecture that was decorated by bands of snow and ice.

It was perfect walking in the warm sun, I dispensed with my jacket and gloves and enjoyed the solitude of this majestic corner of Torridon. Only the occasional section of sheet ice on the paths disturbed progress. Before reaching the bealach at 670 metres I turned off to the right and cut under the cliffs that protect the route to Beinn Liath Mhor. I threaded my way through the rock, ice, snow and grass to reach the slight drop before the steep section. I found a gully to climb this and then climbed the last 75 metres of broken quartz to the summit.

The views were simply stunning with the Torridon giants of Beinn Alligin, Liathach and Beinn Eighe revealed in their scanty clothing of snow. I had expected to meet Chris at the summit and I waited awhile whilst feasting on the views, drinking some coffee and demolishing a roll. I sent some pictures to former colleagues penned in offices and gave my apologies for being so cruel, they retorted with a mixture of anger and envy about the sins of retirement. I was leaving the summit cairn as Chris arrived so we descended together and at about 750 metres we stopped at a rock platform for some lunch, it was a veritable sun trap. We were joined by a walker from Mull who was on his ascent and the three of us whiled away 45 minutes or so just soaking up the midday sun and sharing conversations about walks, places and life. I cannot recall what was said but it was a genuine interlude of comradeship.

We dropped to the bealach feeling lazy after our lunchtime break and then began the steep climb up snow-covered slopes to the ridge leading to Sgorr Ruadh. We were taking our time and absorbing the day with all our senses. Despite the hard-packed snow and ice we decided against crampons and followed rock blocks to the summit. There were great views of Maol Chean-dearg and Beinn Damph as well as across to the crenulated peaks of Skye. At the summit, I took more photos before we put on our crampons for the descent and just chilled although it was quite warm.

We were reluctant to set off down, days like this are for keeps and every minute was a reward for all those damp, cold, cloudy, windy expeditions that are the majority of outings on any Munro round. We found a long ramp of hard snow to speed the descent and, whilst we briefly considered climbing Fuar Tholl, once we found the path down to Coire Lair it seemed greedy to repeat a Corbett. Crossing the river was easier than usual and then there was just the last 400 metres of descent to Achnashellach down the staircase of rocks with the rippling burn providing the final sensation of the day. This had been a perfect day taking in the skyline of one of Scotland's finest corries, I used to rate all walks with a score out of ten during my first couple of rounds, there were only 3 or 4 times that 10 was given. Today would have been a definite 10.

Meall An Fhudair

Ben Lui 4 from Meall an Fhudair

Ben More range from Troisgeach

Meall an Fhudair

Ben Lui from Meall an Fhudair

Ben More behind boulder vegetation

Ascent:      920 metres
Distance:   13 kilometres
Time:        4 hours 10mins

c  Meall an Fhudair     764m      2hrs 18mins

At last a given day as they say in Shetland. I defrosted the car and headed off at 8:20am, there was no news on the radio because of a strike by BBC journalists opposing compulsory redundancies. A temperature inversion meant that the low-lying valleys that the roads follow were in mist. The A85 before Crianlarich was being resurfaced so it was after 9:45am before I was parked by Glen Falloch farm to climb my nearest unclimbed Corbett. It was still cold and after following the zig-zags of the track through a herd of cattle, over the railway line and past the phone mast, I began to climb a steep ramp to the ridge leading to Troisgeach. There was a walker ahead who was taking the same route. I was overheating badly and had to stop to strip off my jacket, hat and gloves. After a drink, I felt at one in the still cool air but the sun was warm and there was not a breath of wind. This was more like a day in the Alps.

The snow level was down to 500 metres and the crusted and granulated snow surface eased the ascent although there was the occasional collapse of snow to keep me alert. By the summit of Troisgeach, I had caught up with the other walker, he was 69 and attempting the Corbetts after recently completing the Munros. He had set demanding targets for himself but he was well-equipped and had an air of confidence and an easy cadence as he walked. We had a drink and chat before walking and talking our way across to Meall an Fhudair. The conditions were perfect and the views were impressive with the four Munros of the Ben Lui range on our right and a view down Loch Fyne and Loch Lomond to the south.

At the summit, we stopped for a drink and continued our discussion until I decided to return on a similar route but cutting under Troisgeach.  He decided to descend to the south and make his way back along the glen. The route back involved avoiding the small lochans, which were frozen over and covered with snow, and then coping with the rough ground before eventually hitting the track at 300 metres. I was down just after 2pm and decided to return via Loch Lomond to avoid the traffic on the A85. The views were sparkling all the way home; this had been a good start to what I hope will be a full year of walking.

Copenhagen - wonderful but cold

City Hall - the setting for the Killing

City Hall  - Art Nouveau splendour

Christiansborg Palace, home of Danish Parliament and Birgitte

Children and Bikes, the currency of happiness?

Queen's Tapestries of  Danish History - Bikes defeat Hitler

New Opera House

Opera House interior

Industry in the city

Frederikskirken - the Marble Church 

Little Mermaid seeks Prince

Kronberg Castle and DanishTardis

Holger Danske in the Kronberg Castle vaults

Elsinore

I am  a swan and that ugly country over there is Sweden

Safe streets - the Danish Royal Guard marches down the Stroget

Nyhavn - heritage harbour and food paradise

Hans Christian Anderson outside the fairy tale that is the City Hall

Tivoli Gardens during winter closure

After a winter of watching Danish TV dramas, Copenhagen sounded a wonderful idea especially as flights in January were cheaper than a rail ticket to Aberdeen. The Scottish weather came with us and grey skies, sleet and sharp cold days were not the ideal vacation weather. Denmark has been recognised recently by an OECD Better Life Index as the country having the 'best satisfaction with life' and the 'best work-life balance' of 36 countries surveyed. The relaxed way of life is apparent all around from the easy-going travel, the dress down style, the sensible working hours and the recognition that it is children and relationships that matter not the accumulation of wealth.

It is a country steeped in democracy, with a real-life female Prime Minister, Helle Thorning-Schmidt, leading a centre-left coalition. The Royal family are almost cherished with an 80 - 90% approval rating, the third world and United Nations are strongly supported and green politics are firmly embedded in the psyche of the nation. Despite the harsh January cold, most people seem to travel through the city on bikes; 34% of all journey to work trips in Copenhagen are by bike. In the countryside, trails sweep through the low lying forests and even on a freezing day with a thin veneer of snow, there were dozens of families out on their bikes. Research has found that cycling makes people more relaxed and add years to the life as well as life to the years of active cyclists.

Children and families are given priority by local and national government policies. Nurseries and playparks abound. Higher education tuition is free, which is attracting a lot of students from other parts of Europe, particularly since English Universities have bumped up fees. Copenhagen feels a far more cosmopolitan place than most European cities with English understood everywhere and spoken as the first language in many settings, including on many university courses.

The Danish for food is 'mad' but this is a misnomer: fish, ham, beef, dairy produce, salads, fruit and some surprisingly good bread make for good eating. The public transport is well thought out, punctual and relaxed. After a night in the new Opera House, the vast majority of the audience went home by bus. The trip from the centre of the city to the airport takes only 12 minutes and there is no half mile hike from the station to the departure gates when you get there.

We quickly realised that there is no way you can take in all the sights in 4 days, so we went Danish - relaxed and just sauntered round the streets visiting design centres, museums, cafes and the large selection of independent shops. The quality of the museums was exceptional with the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek having a collection of French Impressionists and a cafe in the winter garden to make your day. The National Museum of Denmark had displays on early history and folk stories of Denmark that provided a compelling understanding of the country in a way that focusing on powerful personalities can never achieve.

I had wanted to travel across the Oresund bridge to Sweden but it seemed a waste of the day. We went by train to Helsingor for a visit to Kronsberg Castle. It was undergoing a great deal of restoration work but the guided tour was revealing and highlighted the long standing feuds with Sweden; Scania, on the other side of the sound had been part of Denmark. King James VI of Scotland had visited Kronberg Castle after his marriage to Anne of Denmark. At the time Kronberg was the gateway to the Baltic trade routes and a tax haven in the true sense of the term. Later we took in the Louisiana Modern Art Gallery in northern Zealand where the superb setting overlooking Oresund and  Henry Moore sculptures were the highlights.

But best of all were the settings for the Killing - the City Hall, and Borgen - Christiansborg. The city hall is a superb art nouveau building with an interior spilling over with features and finishes. Even the plumbing was a design detail. It had just hosted a Fashion week and was very much the epicentre of city endeavours.  Sadly there was no filming taking place either there or at Christiansborg so we could see Birgitte in her home environment, although we did manage to watch an episode of Borgen 3 whilst staying in Copenhagen.

Christiansborg was displaying the 17 commissioned tapestries, designed by Bjørn Nørgaard, covering Danish History which were presented to Queen Margrethe II on her 60th birthday in 2000. They hang in the Great Hall and capture the mood of the country in all its glorious informality. Even the Queen's sons are made to look like rock stars and Hitler is woven in below a Danish woman riding a bike - Danish humour is dark and has a woman's touch.

Time flew despite inclement weather and we encountered only civility and friendliness, any angst seemed reserved for the Swedes. Would I go back? Yes, and it would be a good place to live if it had some mountains as well. However it made even Scotland seem balmy in February.

Bikes rule