Darkness is falling as I type this, at 4.45pm. It's November, and the days are shortening at a rate of knots. We had phenomenal visibility; from my position, I could clearly make out the Applecross Forest. That's not a classical forest (as with trees), but a deerforest - in this case, a mountain range that rises to more than 2,000 feet (600 metres) above sealevel. Applecross is 55 miles or 90 km to the southeast. The odd thing was that it was sunny over there, but overcast here.
I found myself thinking about Glenfinnan just now. It is a small hamlet on the A830 road between Fort William and Mallaig, famous for an arched railway viaduct. And that railway viaduct, constructed by "Concrete Bob" Macalpine, has rose to fame as it features in the Harry Potter franchise of movies. The villagers are driven to distraction by the hordes of people who descend on their little patch for the express purpose of watching a steam-train driving over the viaduct. Because that would be the Harry Potter train. Extensive carparking has been made available, but still, visitors park irresponsibly and walk along the road without due care and attention. It is a gripe that extends into Skye, not that far up the road, which is also the setting for various famous movies.
Although in the past you'd have to take a ferry to Skye, there has been a bridge to that island now for 30 years. I am certainly not opposed to tourism (I have helped out in the tourism industry for some years), but do feel it should be better managed.
In the Outer Hebrides, you can't just hang a left at Ullapool, drive 50 miles and you're in Stornoway. You have to shell out at least £100 take a car on the Loch Seaforth (one way), sit on the ferry for the better part of three hours and hope the Minch is not too bumpy. Point I'm making: you have to actively want to come here. The campervans were many and varied again this summer, but they are mostly gone now. I noticed that the local hostel is now closed until next Easter - so we're in the down season. Time to regroup, rejuvenate, take stock - and prepare for next year. All welcome.
Today is All Souls, the day we remember those who have gone on ahead. As the year declines through its penultimate month, it is a fitting time to remember. In just over a week, it will be Armistice Day, and I'll post about that separately.
This day, in the year that saw me wandering around the north of Scotland, I took a ride out to Corrour Station. It lies 20 miles east of Fort William, and can only be reached by train or on foot. From there, it is a mile's walk to the youth hostel at Loch Ossian, a strange place of many memories.
On this occasion, a stag had been lured into the hostel with biscuits. The pic dates from 1994.
Male guests were invited to pee on the grass, and anyone who felt like it could swim in the loch behind the hostel in lieu of a bath. On my very first visit, in 1990, I met a man whose house had just burned down. It was called Lubnaclach, and stands about 2 miles southwest of Corrour Station. The shell is still visible from the train.
People walk from Fort William to Corrour, a walk through the wilderness. I have not ventured much beyond the lower reaches of Glen Nevis, or to the edge of Loch Treig.
November has just arrived as I type this. The leaves are turning, mist alternates with storms. Daylight is shrinking from 5pm and temperatures are falling. Autumn is in its second full month. Over the next few weeks, we'll see a number of days of note. Guy Fawkes on Thursday, the Night of Broken Glass on the 9th - which is also the anniversary of the fall of the Berlin wall. 1989 only seems like yesterday, but is no less than 37 years ago. The calendar turns again beyond St Andrew's Day on the 30th - by which time we'll be headed for Christmas. For now, enjoy November - Movember - and I'll try to post each day.
A clock.
Its hands pointing at a little after 9.13
This was in the morning
The morning of 21st October 1966
The clock looks a bit battered.
It looks grimey.
Encrusted with black soot...
The clock stopped permanently at the above time, when it was engulfed in an avalance of coal dust, which had come crashing down from a 111 ft high spoil heap, outside the Welsh mining town of Aberfan.
The collapse claimed the lives of 116 children and 28 adults.
109 of the children were killed when their primary / elementary school was engulfed.
Lest we forget
A sunsplashed photograph of the village of Kyleakin in Skye, 75 miles
south of Stornoway. It dates back 22 years, when I was based there for a
week or so. Although I had set up a blog some ten days before, it was
in Kyleakin that I commenced to blog my activities on a daily basis.
The big building in the left of the picture was the Youth Hostel, since closed down and converted to residential accommodation. Google Streetview showed me the changes.
On October 8th, 2004, I went on a hillwalk in southern Skye, to reach the beach of Camasunary. I post a photograph I took 12 days later.
Twenty-two years of blogging has seen me change blogs a few times. I first posted in Northern Trip, which I had to close after AOL ditched its blogging service in October 2008.
I wrote in Atlantic Lines for ten years, before opening A Cobbled Road in 2018. The change always appears to have happened in October, for some obscure reason.
Anyway, over the years I have encountered some great people through AOL, and what we came to call J-land (journals land). Since 2004, some seventy bloggers have passed away; they are remembered in Silent Keyboards - Jland Angels, originally set up by the late Jeannette Oatley.
Apart from blogging about my own exploits, I have about 70 blogs on my account related to local history and other matters. I hope you have enjoyed reading thus far, and will stay with me for this journey. Here's to year 23.