Remote beauty

Journey to Mallaig

Tuesday morning was bright and blustery but the gale blowing for the last twenty four hours had calmed considerably. I left the haven of the hotel hopeful that the ferry would leave Brodick for Ardrossan and the train to Glasgow. I was not disappointed, the ferry left on time with a few words of warning from the Captain that there was a possibility that berthing in Ardrossan could still be a problem. We were delivered safely back to the mainland and I rode my bike off the ferry and onto the rail platform to board the waiting train. The train journey to Glasgow is not very special but I was looking forward to the next stage; I had booked myself and my bike on the legendary West Highland Line from Glasgow to Mallaig via Fort William, this single track journey is arguably the most scenic train ride in the British Isles.

The railway leaves Glasgow along the banks of the Clyde, passing Greenock (Billy Connolly country); Glencoe, site of the massacre of the MacDonald clan in 1692; Ben Nevis, the highest mountain in the UK at 1344 metres and still covered in snow in May. A large stretch of the line passes through country that is completely inaccessible by road.

Many of the stops in the remoter areas serve as hostels as well as being railway stations, they are all painted white with green windows and doors and the walls are clad with something that gives the effect of small curved tiles, almost like fish scales. Every stop seemed to have hordes of Goretex clad walkers waiting to board the train to bag their next Munro.

The scenery along the route is beautiful, wild and dramatic. Mountains, lochs, rivers and streams and a lot of wildlife as well as sheep and cattle. It was quite tricky to get many photos from the train for various reasons, rain, dirty windows, trees adjacent to the track blocking the view and on a few occasions the speed of the train. The latter excuse was infrequent and only on the downhill sections, the gradients up and down were quite marked in some places.

The train leaves Glasgow composed of six carriages, two are taken off to divert to Oban, two further carriages get left at Fort William and two carriages then continue from Fort Willaim to Mallaig. I think that the reason only two carriages go to Mallaig is that the gradient is too steep for the train to pull more, it is the only time I can remember really having the sensation of climbing a steep hill in a train. The train terminates at Mallaig, it is a ferry port for Skye and lots of other small islands and a destination for walkers. I unhooked my bike from the rack, attached the panniers and cycled off around to the east side of the harbour to find my B&B.

I had decided to spend three nights in Mallaig so I would be able to have a good look around. I decided that my first excursion would be to take a ferry to Knoydart. Knoydart is a remote peninsular inaccessible by road and the tiny hamlet of Inverie boasts the remotest pub on mainland Britain. It sits on the northern shore of Loch Nevis and has a population of about 100 adults. The ferry drops you off in the morning and returns to collect you at 3:00pm for a short cruise up the Loch and then back to Mallaig. The hamlet has a Post Office, a pub and a small tea room. The weather was wet and cold so I decided that before setting out for a walk I would sample the tea room, hot chocolate and freshly baked carrot cake supplied the necessary calories and thus fortified I set out to explore, nothing radical as I was not equipped to conquer the great outdoors.

I walked east beside the loch, the road was through beautiful deciduous woodland, lots of moss and stones and obviously carefully managed. The Knoydart Foundation exists to preserve the unique character of this largely untouched landscape. Most of the dwellings are traditional cottages, some now holiday let's and some very much lived in. One aspect of local life would appear to have changed, the church is no longer in use as a place of worship but is now a dwelling. The foundation has a bunkhouse situated in an old farmhouse, a popular spot for walkers and others who come to savour this remote spot. I walked on to 'Long Beach' where there is a campsite, in the summer sun it must be idyllic, a grass roofed wooden shelter, a fire pit, running water and some wooden benches and tables surrounded by hills and silence, if you don't count the lazy waves slopping on the shore. The shells and other jetsam on the beach after the gales were colourful and varied, the blue of the many mussels adding a cheerful touch.

The rain was getting heavier and I was getting hungrier so it seemed as though retracing my steps to the pub for some lunch might be a good idea.

The pub 'The Old Forge' was an appealing refuge. Situated on the edge of the Loch with an unimpeded view of the pier the pub seems central to local life. It is obviously patronised by all types, locals, walkers, yachtsmen, holiday cottage residents and anyone else in need of shelter and refreshment. It would appear to offer live music too, guitars and bodhran's lay waiting to be played.

I picked a table with a good view of the Loch and had some really great tomato and basil soup with crusty bread, I followed it up with toffee pudding, working on the theory that if I had a decent lunch then I would not really need to worry about supper, hmmm. Having enjoyed lunch there was not much time to explore more before the ferry returned to collect us. Once aboard the warm dry Ferry we were taken up the loch, the idea being to see the view and possibly some wildlife, the lack visibility rather marred this bit of the trip but it was still nice to have a look around, the scenery is beautiful.

I am writing this hoping that the clouds might lift a bit and I may be able to enjoy a local ride on my bike, time will tell. If the weather does not change I may just go to Mallaig and try out the Heritage Centre, tomorrow it is back on the train to Glasgow and south.