3 posts tagged “ballachulish”
Day Three (New Year's Day):
We awoke slightly earlier than was strictly necessary, so after a lovely hot shower we headed over the road to take in the views over Loch Linnhe and be carefully sniffed by a couple of bounding black Labradors taking their morning constitutional. After more gorgeous porridge with brown sugar, we piled into the car and drove through more extraordinary scenery; this time we headed towards Mallaig, taking a coastal route towards the edge of the mainland that gives way to ferries to the Isle of Skye etc.
By chance, we chose the more scenic, coastal drive even though it was longer. The only place open was the lovely Cnoc na Faire hotel, in which we had the most delicious bowl of Cullen Skink (smoked haddock and potato creamy chowder) followed by a fine steak and chips for me and fish and chips for Ashley. Thick cut chips while looking out over a charming bay, bathed in ice-cold sunlight and full of sparkling lakes. What could be better? We became acquainted with resident Spaniels Harris and Lewis, too, although Harris seemed to persist in trying to walk under the wheels of the car.
Onwards to Mallaig, which was mostly closed and had a port that reeked in that way ports do. A couple of wary-looking seagulls stalked us along the pier, and then we headed back to Ballachulish again just in time for tea and mince pies. We had a slightly disappointing dinner that night, service being slow and unresponsive and the food not up to the high standards of the previous nights, and we had a long and soul-searching conversation about having a better life and giving more back.
Day Four:
An early start (and more porridge... oh how I love thee, yet somehow never bother to make thee at home) and back on the road to Glasgow. Had we known that we were going to hire the car earlier than the last minute, we'd have booked a train back today. As it was, an afternoon pottering around Buchanan street, snaffling Charles Rennie Mackintosh knick-knacks for Ashley's mum and dinner at Wagamama was to round off our honeymoon. I dipped in and out of every bookshop looking for New Moon because I foolishly read Twilight and I should never start a series because I can't resist finishing them, no matter how trashy.
We finally did some of that walking we'd resisted doing in the gorgeous Highlands (too cold, too lazy) and realised 2nd January is a national holiday in Scotland when the Glasgow Museum of Modern Art (GoMA) was shut. Nonetheless, we enjoyed the day.
Day Five:
Up at the crack of arse to catch the 07:35 train only to find out a terrible disaster had happened the night before, when a light aircraft fatally crashed into the train lines. We were delayed by a mere hour and on our way, taking a slightly longer route around Staffordshire. Our complaints about the wait were silenced as soon as we found out why - how could we complain about a couple of hours out of our routine when people had lost their lives and when families were grieving?
I wrote a little for BitchBuzz and settled down into the sequel to the Tales of the Otori trilogy, which isn't trashy at all. There's a prequel to get my teeth into as well - marvellous! Then home, home, lovely home. And breaking in our slow cooker.
Day One:
Dad came to get us at an only slightly unholy 6:30am, whisking us to Euston station for our 7:22am train to Glasgow. At the last minute, we'd decided to forego the train tickets from Glasgow to Fort William and drive from Glasgow to Ballachulish, which actually takes less time and gives us a car to play with when we get there. It meant a little bit of money lost but a lesson learned and convenience gained.
The train took just under five hours. I had Twilight to read - it's rubbish, but beguiling rubbish - and posts for BitchBuzz to write, one of which became about vampires, so there was plenty to entertain oneself with. The train was a Virgin Pendolino and we got a table and, thanks to Ashley's office Christmas gift, an Acer Aspire One. All went well.
The drive from Glasgow took us through some extraordinary scenery, shifting colours and temperatures (lowest -5, highest 2) and rocky, desolate, bewitching expanses. You feel incredibly tiny in the pit of these intimidating valleys, and it's a surprisingly positive feeling.
We arrived at the pleasantly creaking Ballachulish Hotel, overlooking a glorious expanse of Loch Linnhe, just in time for tea and the oddest-tasting cake ever, and then had a boozy dinner of vegetable soup, roast lamb and Eve's pudding washed down with a heady rose. Then bed, and a comfy sleep.
Day Two:
After a breakfast of proper Scottish porridge oats, scrambled eggs, sausage, toast and tea, we decided to drive in the direction of Glen Nevis and see if we could get a good glimpse of the vertiginous slopes of Ben Nevis. Having seen that Inverness was just 80 miles away, however, we carried on, along the banks of Loch Lochy, Loch Oich and finally the entire length of a disappointingly monster-free Loch Ness. A brief stop at Urquhart Castle, then more gorgeously winding roads, flanked with ice-capped trees that waved their white fronds as invitingly as Anne Shirley's White Way of Delight. The scene would suddenly shift to rich reds and glowing greens and then suddenly we'd be back in a monochrome Christmas Card again. I've never seen such a gorgeously changeable and impressive scenery (suddenly you understand how so many die icy deaths on the treacherous slope, and shudder in your safe, warm car) and wonder why it's taken me so long to cross the border.
Inverness itself has little to recommend it. A resolutely functional Highlands capital; a handful of pretty buildings are about all that stop it from being a veritable blot on the landscape. It really is just a place for everyone from the villages to visit a Marks and Spencer every few months.
The drive back was as stunningly beautiful as the drive there. Four hours (two each way) of glorious natural beauty is quite a way to spend your honeymoon. We returned to tea, caramel chocolate tray bakes and mince pies. Then a shower and down to a cocktail reception (woefully underdressed!) and six course New Year's Eve meal including shockingly lovely venison haggis, neeps and tatties (why are swedes neeps?) and a fabulous roast beef. Then we rushed up to bed and snuggled like kittens in a basket, fast asleep long before the bells rang in the new day.
Day Three to follow... frustratingly, uploading the pretty photos we took with our wedding present DSLR is impossible on the hotel's slow (but free!) Wi-Fi, so these will have to be added when we get back. Happy New Year, Voxers!