Chapter Seventy Five – “Our Highland Adventure: Part One”

Day 1 – Saturday, 13^th October 2018

                Our trip to Ullapool was upon us. Daniel met Josh and myself at 0530 at the house, and after praying for God’s hand over our journey we set off. We knew it would be a long day – ten hours on the road, not including rest stops. However, we started off well, and in a positive frame of mind, looking forward to the adventures to come and our restful break, we stopped for breakfast at Stafford services, just off the M6. The time was 0830.

            Fuelled by my full English breakfast, I returned to the car and we pressed onwards to the next stop, Dunblaine, for lunch at around 1300. By this point, Dan was glad and thankful to have finally reached Scotland, and our lunch in Tilly’s tearoom (I had mushroom soup, chicken sandwiches and Stornoway black pudding – my first of the trip) served as a welcome to Scotland and our holiday. Things were good, despite the now relentless rain pouring outside. The time was now 1400.

         However, the rain wasn’t showing any signs of letting up, and it continued to beat down on the roads, making driving difficult and hazardous. As such, we weren’t able to continue at the rate which we hoped, and after a few long hours we realised that we would get to our destination about three hours later than we had originally anticipated.

               We eventually arrived at Lochside Cottage, our home for the week, at half past ten at night – the rain still strong. However, due to previous events I hadn’t eaten dinner, so we ventured into the nearby town of Ullapool to see if we could find something. I didn’t hold out much hope.

               Very unexpectedly, the only place still open at eleven o’clock was the Indian restaurant, and they did takeaway! A very late dinner bought, we returned to the cottage and I enjoyed my meal and considered what adventures lay ahead.

Day 2 – Sunday, 14^th October 2018 

               This morning I awoke at nine, suddenly remembering with a pang of joy that I was on holiday. After showering and dressing I went into the living room and stood for a while, gazing out of the picture window, over Loch Broom (now visible as bold blue, skirted by autumnal shades of gold, red and green). I smiled to myself as I considered the beauty of creation, and the delicate tiny birds flitting to and fro from the bird feeders – great tits, blue tits, chaffinches, house sparrows, and even one robin.

               Seeing as we had no breakfast cereals in, there wasn’t much to occupy me until twenty past ten, when we would leave for church, so I continued with my book. It’s interesting learning something of C.S. Lewis’s conversion to faith.

               We were welcomed into Lochbroom free church in Ullapool at eleven, hearing a sermon from Ephesians 4:1-16 on the theme of unity within the church, from Neil (‘Lachie’), the new pastor. It is one thing to say we’re Christians, but it’s another thing to live it – a challenge to us all.

               After the service we chatted over the sermon (I’d had some questions about the concept of the visible and invisible church, particularly how the visible church could incorporate those who were not saved, but this began to make sense as I realised God knew the heart and the identities of His chosen people even if not saved now). We also discussed the difference in worship style – singing Psalms and no instruments.

               We left, having encouraged the believers and joined with them as genuine family in Christ, and went off to shop for food supplies (roughly £70). However, despite our initial intentions of a light sandwich lunch, we didn’t head back to the cottage, but instead took a drive to Achnaird Bay, which felt a lot like Skye, and onward to Loch Inver. Beautiful scenery, which words cannot adequately describe, with much flat land, scattered peaks and remote clusters of houses – so different from last year.

               So, by the time for the evening service at six, we’d gone without lunch, but that didn’t seem to matter. The service took a similar format to the morning although there was a much smaller gathering. The sermon was continuing in Judges 4, looking at how we can serve in church. An exhortation not to run away from battle, to use the language of the passage.

               As before, we spent time encouraging and getting to know the locals before we left – including a dear old lady, Mary, whose grandson was also a radiographer.

               Back at the cottage our evening consisted of Dan’s stir fry, followed by our first movie, Highlander – despite fighting the adverse effects of beer, I focused enough to appreciate about 95% of it. A strange movie, but enjoyable all the same, even if I found myself asking what happened.

               Tomorrow would be our first ‘outdoor’ day. But first, another good night’s sleep.

Day 3 – Monday, 15^th October 2018

               We started the day with a reading of Psalm 103, reminding ourselves of God’s promises to us: v12 – ‘As far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our transgressions from us.’ So encouraging to know that we’re forgiven, so we can forgive others.

               I confess that the first thing on my mind this morning was not thoughts of faith, but of house maintenance issues back in London – the last thing I wanted to deal with, really. Last night I had been told of a new(?) leak, which I wanted to get sorted and push from my mind, so I hastily composed and sent an email.

               The main event of the day was our outing, heading south, to Inverewe Gardens – somewhere both Josh and I had expressed a desire to visit. To date, we had mainly travelled to the north, so this was a welcome change of scene.

               We arrived at about ten thirty, in light rain, and wandered around the walled garden (reminiscent of a kitchen garden with a variety of plants and some vegetables). As we marvelled at the deep and bold colours, and the unusual plants (“What’s this one, Josh?”) the rain slowly began to get heavier. Eventually we took refuge inside ‘Forgailte’, the house of Mairi Sawyer, daughter of Osgood, who first planted these gardens. As we passed through the lounge and dining room, we came upon the study, and being curious I took to looking through the hardback books on the shelves. A lot can be discerned about a person through their selection of reading material, and I chanced upon the familiar yellow spine of Daphne du Maurier’s Early Stories – I already had a copy myself, but I would’ve loved to have taken it for the joy of another collector. Alas, not my choice. But it suited the atmosphere of the room, so I left it be. At any rate I was beginning to admire this Mairi Sawyer.

               After a short while we headed back outside into the gardens and continued onwards. However, a combination of time against us and now heavy rain forced us to turn around and curtail our wanderings. So instead we settled in the cafeteria for a light lunch – scones for Dan, broccoli and stilton soup for myself.

               The afternoon ticked on, and we decided to take a round trip through the Torridon area, again soaking in the amazing scenery. Lochs, mountains, winding roads, indifferent sheep and the occasional deer were all part of this journey.

           Our last stop before returning to the cottage was a walk around the Beinn Eighe nature reserve on the banks of Loch Maree. There was a small woodland circuit to walk, but it was slightly disappointing to find nothing to guide us along the path (nothing to look out for), although perhaps that was in the booklet, which we took but ignored? Even so, some truly wonderful, woody, rugged scenery, if a little damp underfoot.

               Another hour later and we were back at the cottage. While Dan rested from his driving, I helped Josh to prepare his spaghetti Bolognese (with all the ingredients, minus garlic). He was grateful for the assistance, but it wasn’t until another hour later, at about eight, that we finally got to eating! The meal was a success, and I even went for seconds! My time to shine was still to come.

               The day rounded off with another movie from our Scottish collection, Braveheart. Thanks to the evocative and perfectly orchestrated soundtrack I watched it with a renewed sense of wonder, appreciating the inherent poignancy, and feeling for poor Murron as she died so early on. As the film progressed, however, I found myself once again struggling to focus – a short break was implemented (with a bowl of cereal and cups of tea), and then we continued. I just about got the plot, and was able to witness the death scene – a graphic depiction of execution which left me with the feeling of a tender abdomen.

               So the day closes. We didn’t have a chance to observe the stars tonight, due to cloud cover, but hopefully one night soon.

               It should also be said, for quirkiness, that still it continues that each night so far I’ve left remnants of an unfinished drink (finished the following day). On Saturday it was wine, Sunday it was beer, and tonight my glass of water. But as to ‘water-morrow’ will hold, watch this space.

Day 4 – Tuesday, 16^th October 2018 

               Our morning meditation today was Psalm 111, focusing our attention on God’s works (v2). It was good to start the day with the right focus, and thoughts of God’s creation led me to ask Dan some questions about the new creation and our renewed bodies therein, as Christians. It felt exciting to ponder these things, making the prospect of our future in heaven all the more real.

               Upon leaving the house, probably around nine (I didn’t check the time specifically), we first spent time in Ullapool. Here I was able to buy some postcards and a book for Dan’s birthday (on island history), and spend some pleasant time musing over the imagery of the variety of paintings in a local art gallery – to which I returned, to purchase some greetings cards.

               The last bit of time spent in Ullapool this morning was at the local museum in the old converted church. Although it seemed a shame to think that the pews would no longer hold worshippers hearing a gospel sermon, it was interesting to have all the town’s history in one place, and fascinating to hear something of the old days – there were, I noticed, even some thoughts from an old man, Duncan, who I am pretty sure was the 97 year old man who attended church on Sunday morning.

               From Ullapool we journeyed out to Knockan Crag, and a mountainside walk taking us up high, along a ridge overlooking Lochan an Ais, a distinctive body of water, and from which we could see over to Stac Pollaidh and Suilven, two prominent mounts. The Knockan Crag path was a geologist’s paradise, as we were shown something of how the rocks were layered up, curiously with the oldest layers uppermost – an unexpected presentation. We stopped at a viewpoint at the end of the ridge path and enjoyed a bite to eat, but the wind was ferocious by this point, making conversation rather difficult. Still, facing the elements, we made it back with a sense of achievement and (for me, at least) a renewed wonder of the beauty of creation as displayed in the local landscape.

               Next, a roadside stop off at the ruins of Calda House and Ardvreck Castle (from the 18^th and 15^th centuries respectively). It was fascinating to see what was left of Calda House, but it felt strange to be entranced by the empty shell of what seemed just another house. The nearby information board, telling the story of the house, increased my appreciation, but I found my wonder slightly lacking. However, the castle ruins were engaging, being a castle, although at the time I glossed over the associated information board, so my insight was limited. Still, climbing around castle ruins never gets dull!

               Dan drove us onwards to a favourite campsite of his, at Clachtoll, with Split Rock nearby on the headland. It was now about mid-afternoon (4pm), and the rain was threatening to return. As Josh and Dan took shelter in the small wooden ranger’s hut, I wandered down to the white sandy beach and photographed the scene, the sun low in the sky, its light dancing off the sea and nearby rocks. Alas, how photographs can never capture the true feeling of the moment. After reuniting with Josh and Dan, now well rested, we crossed the beach and walked along the cliffs to Split Rock, climbing up onto the elevated grassy platform adjacent. Now, with a combination of the fierce winds and my fear of heights, I gathered my courage and scrambled up the grassy rock face, keeping my centre of gravity forwards so as not to fall backwards. Dan shared about how he had camped up on this very platform once, to which I responded that he must’ve been immensely brave. Despite my thoughts that I could conquer my fear of heights on this occasion, I was very relieved when I got back onto the level ground again.

               By now the rain was lashing down on us full force, and we hastily retraced our steps back to the car. Our final stop was Stoerhead lighthouse, which we found with some difficulty on account of the satnav suggesting somewhere in Belgium or the Czech Republic. But we found it – and after a few photos, we left. Not as captivating as last year’s Ardnamurchan, it seemed, but perhaps we were just out of time.

               We wanted to eat out this evening, to give our evenings a bit of variety, but it appeared that everywhere was either fully booked or closing early. Resignedly, I suggested I could cook my mango chutney chicken. We would visit a posh restaurant another evening – either the Ceilidh Place or the Caberfeidh would be most likely as Josh was keen to try some local beers.

               With Josh’s help, I cooked and served up my simple mango chutney chicken – as easy as they come! It was ready in no time, and was a huge success.

               Finally, at Dan’s suggestion, we settled down in the lounge as Dan read to us – first ‘The Highwayman’ poem, and then M.R. James’s ‘Whistle, and I’ll Come to You, My Lad’, but due in part to the long day, and the dram of Scotch that Josh and I had been offered, we both fell asleep as Dan narrated the tale. This perhaps showed us that we were in need of a more lazy day tomorrow, and a chance for me to do some much needed laundry and postcard writing. With that in mind, I’ll close here.