Outer Hebrides and the Hebridean Way

Monday 3 June 2019

Long day of travel - with a hangover - yesterday.  Train from Edinburgh to Glasgow (which was late of course), then a long ride on the Citylink bus from Glasgow up to Uig with a stop in Fort William.  The weather north of Glasgow was terrible - rain so thick and heavy I couldn't see the far side of Loch Lomond.  I feel for the people who are doing that part of the West Highland Way this week.  But the weather gradually got better the further north we went, and by the time we got to Skye the sun was out.  This was my first visit to Skye since February 2012, and I had forgotten just how breathtaking it is, especially in good weather.

Then I got the Calmac ferry from Uig to Lochmaddy.  I slept through a good portion of it, the excesses of the night before catching up with me a bit.  My hotel is within sight of the ferry terminal, so I didn't have far to go after landing.

The wind woke me up this morning.  The sky is variably cloudy with occasional rain, and it is blowing a gale.  Any thoughts I may have had of trying to go up a hill today were quickly binned, because if the wind is almost strong enough to blow me off my feet down here at sea level, then it's going to be even worse at altitude.  And I would really like to not get blown off a hill today!

I'm in the cafe at Taigh Chearsabhagh, which is a museum/cafe/post office/gift shop across the road from my hotel in Lochmaddy.  The museum is a bit small - just one big room - but it's got an interesting geological exhibit on just now.  The shop is selling some neat stuff, but I've still got another week of carrying my full-loaded rucksack around and I'm reluctant to buy anything heavy.

I'm planning to get a bus to Grimsay this afternoon.  There are at least three bus stops around Lochmaddy, but only one with the schedule posted.  I'm going to go to the one near the ferry pier around 4pm and hope for the best.

There are hills which look like they should be accessible on foot from Lochmaddy.  However, North Uist is more water than land, which makes navigation complicated.  This is in fact the main reason why I'm taking public transport to Grimsay today, instead of walking.  I'm looking forward to the next few days as an exercise in route-finding but I think I'd be a bit out of my depth today.

***

Tuesday 4 June 2019

Baymore to Nunton: "Good luck, kid."
Distance: 10ish? miles
Start: 11:15am
Finish: 6:00pm
Weather: Partly cloudy and cool

I had a very pleasant evening on Grimsay last night.  Toward dusk I walked from my Airbnb in Baymore to the harbor in Kallin to see what I could see.  Grimsay's main industry is fishing, and nowhere was this more apparent than at the harbor - boats and live-storage units everywhere.  Turning for home, I managed to get on the southerly loop of the road that circles Grimsay, rather than the northerly one, and didn't realize it for a long while since all my major landmarks - the sun, the water, and Eaval over on North Uist - were correct.  I later learned that if I had kept going I would have eventually made it back to Baymore, but as it was I doubled back to the harbor and started over.

I made it back with plenty of light left (since the sun doesn't set until after 10pm at the moment) and got my hostess to light the peat burner in my room - very cozy.  I stayed up for a long time, enjoying the peat-warmed ambience and reading.

I was up at 8:30 this morning and out the door at 9am.  The harbor at Kallin is in the opposite direction from the Hebridean Way, but I wanted to visit the cafe I'd seen there last night.  I got a scallop and black pudding roll.  It was GREAT.  Sutiably fueled, I walked west, back through Baymore a final time, to join the A-road which doubles as the Hebridean Way across Grimsay.  With the time spent in the cafe and the three and a half mile walk across Grimsay, it was 11:15am by the time I reached the A-road.

I followed the A865 over Grimsay and a few minor islands to Benbecula.  I walked into the village of Gramsdal and turned right onto a track where I saw a sign for Kyles Flodda, as well as my first waymarker of the day, hiding behind it.  I followed the track for a short distance and then turned right at another waymarker, toward Ruabhal.

The little Hebridean Way sign says "Rueval, 1.4 miles."  It would do better to say "Rueval, that way (good luck, kid)."  The approach to Ruabhal from the north is an absolute bogfest.  There are posts across the bog, but I spent most of the traverse trying to puzzle out the rationale for their placement.  Perhaps this was the driest course through the marsh when the Hebridean Way opened two years ago?  If it was, it is no longer.  Furthermore, conditions on the ground did not match the map.  The map in the Cicerone book shows the path up Ruabhal from the north as a straight line, when it's really more of an arc with some zigzags thrown in.  Unpleasant flashbacks to the Speyside Way.

I gingerly picked my way across the bog, hyperaware that rescue was unlikely if I went over on my ankle or fell in, since I had yet to see any other walkers and no cyclists would be coming this way.  In due course I reached the far side of the bog and made it up the hill.  One thing to be said for this approach is that the ascent is mostly pretty gentle.  I was at the summit trig point in good time, and the weather congratulated me with a brief rain shower.

I sat by the trig point to eat a Snickers, drink some water, and scrutinize the map.  As I did so, I finally saw my first other walkers of the day: a party of five, walking the Hebridean Way northbound.  I wished them good fortune crossing the bog and started on the very clear path descending southwest off the hill.  I hit the road at the bottom and struck out west for Nunton.

After crossing the A865 again, the road forked.  The left fork continued due west past a Scottish Water building.  The right fork, bearing more northwest, seemed to be the one all the cars were taking.  I looked on the map but couldn't find this junction, so I decided to follow the cars.  At length I got to the outskirts of Balivanich and a restaurant called Charlie's Bistro, where I had an excellent scallop dish and FINALLY found the fork in the road on the map.  No surprises, I was supposed to take the left fork.  Oh well, I had needed to visit the supermarket in Balivanich anyway, and this way I could do it on the way into Nunton instead of having to make an out-and-back side trip.

I got the grand walking tour through Balivanich, passed the airport, stopped in at the grocery store, and continued to follow the road as it turned south toward Nunton.  I passed by the moorland road I was supposed to follow earlier, and at last rocked up to the hostel in Nunton a little before 6pm.  It is a fine evening, but breezy.

Song of the day: "Honky Cat" by Elton John

***

Wednesday 5 June 2019

Nunton to Ardmore: "Abundance and Scarcity (of waymarkers)"
Distance: 8 miles
Start: 9:35am
Finish: 2:15pm
Weather: Cloudy and windy

Spectacular sunset last night, which I watched from the beach at Nunton.  Sunset time?  10:17pm.  What a country.

Donald the hostel warden was spouting dire warnings of incoming inclement weather last night, but the morning dawned dry, if cloudy and somewhat blowy.  I breakfasted and set off, following the road south out of Nunton until the trail diverted onto the dunes.  The tide was out, so I elected to drop down onto the beach and walk along the shore.  Walking on slightly damp sand had my feet rejoicing, and I had the beach to myself apart from a woman exercising her three dogs.

Rounding the point at Sithean Bhuirgh, I found a handy spot to climb back onto the dunes and followed a faint path through them toward Linaclate.  Today marked my first encounter with machair - grass and flowers growing on sand, an improbable state of affairs which is almost unique to the Outer Hebrides.  All the sources I've read state that I will see much more of it on South Uist.

All along the dunes I'd seen marker posts at regular intervals - indeed, they were almost comically close together in places - but they petered out at the same time the path across the dunes did.  The Cicerone guide uses the lone wind turbine nearby as a point of reference, so I made my way to the base of the turbine along vehicle tracks through the machair to consider my next move.  The path appeared to strike north toward the road at this point, so I headed that way.  A guy working at one of the agricultural sheds nearby hailed me and asked if I was walking the Hebridean Way, which I confirmed.  It's a bit thready, we both agreed, with either feast or famine conditions in the way of routemarking.  Much of this is the fault of the weather, the man said.  Marker posts get blown away in the winter storms each year.  Paths get obliterated by shifting sands.  Turf paths (which I've yet to encounter) sink into the bog.  This led me to ponder: a walking route traversing the Outer Hebrides from top to bottom is no doubt an exciting and worthy notion; but the climate and terrain of these islands is such that creating a permanent footpath across them may be next to impossible.  So what do you do?  I'm not sure.

The man pointed out the Dark Island Hotel to me, where I had a room booked for the night.  It was only 11:45am and my room wasn't ready yet, plus I still had plenty of energy left and the weather was holding.  So I had a nice lunch and a cup of tea, dumped my rucksack, and set off just after 1pm to shave a few miles off of tomorrow's planned walk.  When planning this trip, I had wanted to end this day in either Creagorry or Ardmore, but all the accommodation in both places was booked solid (and had been since last October, as one B&B proprietor in Ardmore more cheerfully told me in an email); hence my booking in Linaclate, a mere morning's walk from Nunton.  Looking at the map now, I saw that the Hebridean Way following the road all the way to Ardmore, where I could get a bus back.  Ezpz.  Let's do it.

There is a footway along this bit of road, thank goodness.  I was able to put on my MP3 player and just chug along, through Creagorry and over the causeway to South Uist, which the hills on South Uist getting bigger all the while.  I reached the bus shelter at the turnoff for Ardmore just a little too late for the bus that was due just after 2pm, so I had to wait an hour and a half for the next bus.  No matter, I had brought a book with me and the weather was still holding.

Song of the day: "Way Down We Go" by Kaleo

***

Thursday 6 June 2019

Ardmore to Howmore: "Sail away lady, sail away!"
Distance: 13 miles
Start: 8:55am
Finish: 4:45pm
Weather: Windy

I've had difficulty falling asleep for the last few nights.  The sun doesn't set until after 10pm and it doesn't get dark until nearly midnight, and no matter how valiantly I tried to go to bed at a decent hour last night, I simply could not do it.  So it was a sleepy and grumpy morning, getting up early for breakfast so that I could make the 8:40am bus back to Ardmore.

Back where I left off and down the minor road through Ardmore.  The weather forecast had an increasing probability of rain as the day went on, so I had put the raincover on my rucksack and it was flapping lustily in the high northerly wind.  A woman in a Volvo had the audacity to beep at me when I didn't hear her come up behind me.

After walking through Ardmore I turned right up onto some moorland.  There was a very faint path across the moor between two lochans, regularly interrupted by boggy ground.  It was slow going as I threaded my way across until I hit a minor road, which I followed briefly before getting onto a gravel track leading to a windfarm.  I walked directly underneath the three turbines and then took a short break in the lee of a maintenance building by the easternmost turbine.  I took my rucksack's raincover off - so far the weather was holding, and the raincover was repeatedly threatening to turn into a sail and launch me goodness-knows-where.

A little way after leaving the wind turbines, the gravel track abruptly ended and I was once again following posts across boggy moorland.  The waymarkers were sensibly spaced and I made good progress across the moor, only going in up to my ankles a couple of times.  The gravel path resumed at a bridge and took me all the way to the A865, where I turned south.  I scooted along the road for a while, making a brief pit stop to visit the Our Lady of the Isles statue (underwhelming).

Eventually I turned left onto the B890 road and followed it toward Loch Druidibeg.  I was getting tired of tarmac-pounding and dodging cars by this point, but there was nothing for it but to keep going.  I sat down on a rock by the road for a snack, and none other than my roommate from the hostel in Nunton rolled up in her car to greet me!  The B-road eventually came to a parking area by Loch Druidibeg, which was busy with wild ponies.  I turned right onto a path by the loch shore, which transformed from gravel to dirt to mud and back to dirt again, with duckboard helpfully laid over the boggiest bits.  Eventually the path resolved itself into a farm track, and I passed through a couple of gates to reach the A865 once again.

The moment I reached the road it finally started raining.  The Hebridean Way crosses the road to go through Drimsdale, but I elected to turn south and follow the road directly to Howmore.  Turning right into Howmore, I puzzled over two thatch-roofed cottages (one of which had a helpful "Not Hostel" sign in the window) before reaching the Gatliff hostel, nearly at the end of the road.

I had my first encounter with raised turf paths across the peat today.  The photos I remember seeing on the website two years ago showed them as pristine, but they were looking...well-used, let's say.  It had me revisiting my thoughts from yesterday about this trail.  It is going to be a bitch to maintain and it is probably going to change slightly from year to year, and I just hope the Western Isles Council has the resources to keep up.

Song of the day: "All the Right Moves" by OneRepublic

***

Friday 7 June 2019

Howmore to Daliburgh: "Bug Strikes"
Distance: 11 miles
Start: 8:40am
Finish: 2:20pm
Weather: Partly cloudy and windy

Great craic in the hostel in Howmore last night.  Pretty much everyone staying there was either walking or cycling, so it was a good crowd with great camaraderie.

I was on my way by 8:40 this morning, striking out for the coast on a minor road that led southwest out of Howmore.  I was actually a bit inland from the highlighted route in the guidebook, which meant I was able to bypass the barbed wire fence near Loch a' Mhoil that I've heard so much about.  After a while on the minor road, I picked up a good farm track heading due south, which I followed for the next several miles.  The path stays inland for longer than I was expecting, but the walking was flat and the terrain was forgiving (more machair), and I was able to motor along quite happily, notwithstanding the south wind that blew at my unceasingly.  At least my northbound cyclist friends from the hostel must have had a bitchin' day today!

I passed a woman walking northbound about halfway through the day, and about half an hour or so after meeting her I pulled the guidebook out to try and get my bearings.  I felt like I should have dropped onto the beach by then but I hadn't.  In general, I've had a really difficult time judging distances from the OS maps in the guidebook.  While I was stopped, I realized that I was missing one of my water bottles.  I must have left it either at the hostel or at the last place I'd stopped for a break, about an hour beforehand.  Either way it was too late to go back for it, so I'm going to have to make do with carrying only one liter of water at a time for the rest of the trip.

The waymarkers are a little unclear as to whether you're meant to continue following the inland track or head out to the beach, but I really wanted to walk on the beach, so I dropped down onto the sand shortly after passing the point at Trolaisgeir.  This was enjoyable for a bit...until I experienced my first-ever bug strike.  Damn thing hit me right in the middle of my forehead, dead center.  I gamely carried on down the beach, but the bug strikes continued, propelled by the strong southerly wind I was walking against.  When one hit me right under my eye, I gave up on the beach-walking and found a handy spot to climb back up to the top of the dunes.

By now the trail food I had purchased in Balivanich was depleted and I was getting quite tired and hungry, so my thoughts began to run to the tune of "Where is this damn golf course?"  Luckily I passed my first green not long after.  There were golfers about, and I considered dropping back onto the beach to ensure I stayed out of their way, but I was anxious about potentially losing sight of the communications tower that marked the place where I needed to turn inland toward Daliburgh, so I decided to keep to the dunes at the edge of the golf course as much as possible.  The trail itself clings rather precipitously to the seaward side of the dunes, so it's a bit of a Choose Your Own Adventure here: beach, dunes, or golf course.  I saw my second and final northbound walker on the beach below me while passing the golf course - I'm not sure whether he saw me.

After an age I finally cleared the golf course, and easily located the path to swing inland toward the comms tower and Cladh Hallan cemetery.  This is evidently a popular spot for birdwatching, and loads of people were out with their binoculars.  I followed the narrow minor road south from the tower, and then turned east toward Daliburgh.  I'd had enough for the day by then and didn't really fancy the off-route roadwalk into town, so I stuck my thumb out and got a lift from a nice woman in a campervan.

Song of the day: "Buffalo Stance" by Neneh Cherry

***

Saturday 8 June 2019

Daliburgh to the Am Politician Pub: "Downpour Gin"
Distance: 10 miles
Start: 9:55am
Finish: 2:50pm
Weather: Overcast with occasional hazy sunshine

Had a fantastic sleep last night and woke up feeling refreshed and energetic.  After breakfast at the Borrodale Hotel, I shouldered my rucksack for my last big day of walking on this trip and began making my way back to the coast on the tarmac road.  I wasn't super-excited for the mile and a quarter tarmac plod back to the trail and intended to try and hitchhike, but no cars passed me going that direction so I had to hoof it on my own.  Oh well.

I got back to the trail and turned south.  These were the final few miles on the Machair Way, and they were mostly on sandy farm tracks interrupted by the occasional minor road.  I saw a black rabbit bounding across a field and thought I saw dolphins offshore near Orosay, but I had no binoculars so I couldn't tell for sure.  I made good time and get to the Pollochar Inn, where the Machair Way ends, a little after noon.  I had a nice lunch there, accompanied by the local drunkard perched at the end of the bar.  By and by a large coach tour rocked up at the pub and I discreetly took my leave.

It was tarmac for the rest of the day.  There were stretches with nice, wide, grassy verge to walk on as I progressed through West Kilbride and East Kilbride toward the causeway, but these gradually narrowed away.  Then it was causeway time!  Surprisingly I had it to myself most of the way across, which was fortunate, as I didn't really fancy picking my way across the gravel verge.  At the midpoint of the causeway I paused very briefly to look down into the water and saw half a dozen jellyfish float by.

Then I was over the causeway and onto Eriskay.  I was too early to check in to my Airbnb, so I made my way to the Am Politician pub.  The coach tour had passed me on the causeway and were gearing up to leave as I arrived.  I jokingly asked the driver if he was following me, and he was astonished to learn that I'd walked there from Pollochar.  "From Daliburgh, actually!" I cheerfully corrected him.  I've seen a local gin promoted in a few pubs over the last several days, and I decided that it was high time I tried it.  So a Downpour gin and tonic was how I whiled away the next hour, along with watching the staff decorate the place for a 40th wedding anniversary celebration that would be taking place later.

Song of the day: "Save Me" by Dave Matthews

***

Sunday 9 June 2019

Am Politician Pub to Eriskay Ferry Terminal

This rounded out the Eriskay section of the Hebridean Way and my walking plans for this part of the trip.  The walk to the ferry dock took about 35 minutes, including a wrong turn up a road which turned out to be someone's driveway.  Luckily the homeowner wasn't offended, and he helpfully pointed me through a gate which led to the Hebridean Way footpath, above Bonnie Prince Charlie's beach.  Several tents were pitched at the top of the beach, alongside several motorcycles.

I had realized too late that the Barra buses don't run on Sundays, but in the waiting room for the ferry I met a party on a cycling trip through the Hebrides and they gallantly offered me a ride to Castlebay in their support van.  The kindness of strangers always give me the warm fuzzies, and I rode across Barra with the warmest sense of well-being inside.  This was a great way to end my journey on the Hebridean Way.

Song of the day: "Far Side of the World" by Tide Lines

Leeds and Edinburgh again

Thursday 30 May 2019

I spent most of Tuesday on the train, traveling from Inverness to Leeds via Edinburgh.  I have found that I'm not enjoying train travel on this trip as much as I have on previous trips.  Most of the trains I've taken on this trip have been late, and I'm more affected by motion-sickness than I used to be.

Leeds still has the most American feel of any English city I've ever been to.  It's big and spread out and modern, and its train station is absolutely huge.  It took me ages to find a working ATM, and then my taxi driver had the audacity to ask me "Where's that?" when I told him Kat's address.  Like, you're a cab driver, isn't it your job to know these things?

I had a quiet Tuesday night in with Kat, her partner Marco, and her cats Saffy, Izzy, and Micawber.  Yesterday Kat and I went to the art gallery and the Henry Moore Institute, where there was an exhibition on by Renee So.  Last night Kat, Marco, and I went to a small Polish restaurant for dinner and then to the cinema to see Rocketman, which we all enjoyed.

This morning Kat and I watched a couple episodes of Game of Thrones (I am now caught up except for the series finale), and we are now at Kirkstall Abbey and Museum.  The day is warm but cloudy, with occasional spitting rain.  I love abbeys and cathedrals and their ruins, and I am currently happily sitting on a bench writing this and watching families on half-term at play.

"Real life" is beginning to re-assert itself a bit.  I logged into my school email on Tuesday for the first time in several days, to see a notice that I needed to register for my fall classes by Thursday (today).  Fortunately I was able to borrow Kat's laptop for that.  I also got a text message from my school mentor, and an email from my mom about the moving of my stuff which will take place this weekend...so yeah, American life and my impending return to it are on my mind this week.

***

Saturday 1 June 2019

Yesterday I took the CrossCountry train from Leeds to Edinburgh, after hitching a ride to the station with Marco.  My train was late of course, and there were uppity English people on it demanding that their seat reservations be honored even though they'd all been cancelled.  Ugh.  Not a fun ride.

I had a quiet afternoon and evening yesterday, napping in my HUGE private room at Belford Hostel and venturing out to get a doner kebab for dinner.  There's a festival on at the Meadows today, so I'm planning to go to that and meet up with Ewan and Kath there.  Plan for tomorrow is to get an early-ish train out of Haymarket to Glasgow, and then the 10am bus allllll the way up to Uig, where I will get the evening ferry to Lochmaddy!

Inverness and the Great Glen Way

Saturday 25 May 2019

This trip has been an exercise in listening to my instincts.  Case in point: I had originally booked a hostel dorm as my accommodation in Inverness, against my better judgment.  While I was in Newcastle, I came to my senses (with the help of the loud stag party down the hall), cancelled the hostel, and booked an Airbnb instead.  The Airbnb I found was a self-catering cottage I would have to myself.  Wonderful.

Within an hour or two of booking it, the owner messaged me and said that the cottage was no longer available and was going to be unlisted, but she had an apartment she could offer me instead, and would I like pictures?  Okay yes, the pictures look fine, I'll take the apartment instead.

Then things started getting interesting.  "I may be able to get someone to meet you because I'm in Australia at the moment."  This is the point at which I should have cancelled the booking and walked away.  All my instincts told me to.  Because "may"?  What do you mean "may"?

About a week ago, I got another message.  "My sister is going to meet you to give you access to the flat, here is her number."  I texted the sister (who I will just refer to as "Sister" from now on), no answer.  I'm convinced I'm going to rock up in Inverness and not have accommodation at this point, but I'm not going to get my money back if I cancel at this late stage, so I need to do my due diligence and see this through.  I messaged the owner to say it's been two days and Sister hasn't answered me, do I have the right number?  Yes, that's the right number.  So I called and left a voicemail.  FINALLY Sister got back to me.  She even offered to meet me at the train station.  Looks like I'm actually going to have somewhere to stay after all!

Sister meets me as promised, and even takes me to Tesco so I can get groceries.  We get to the flat, and it's a bit small but it'll do fine for me for three nights.  Only THEN do I find out there's no WiFi.  I have people I'm going to need to be in touch with over the next few days, so this is something of a problem.  Also the TV remote is MIA.  So no internet AND no TV.  Ugghhh.  And I'm pretty sure I saw black mold in the hallway.

Then I went to take a shower, and there was no hot water.  Look, I can live without WiFi and TV for three days, but I cannot live without hot water.  I called Sister, and she sent her husband over.  Thankfully, he not only fixed the hot water, he brought a replacement TV with him!  So all was not lost in the end.

***

Monday 27 May 2019

Drumnadrochit to Inverness: "Unfinished Business"
Distance: 18 miles
Start: 9:20am
Finish: 6:20pm
Weather: Alternating sun and rain

I've chickened out on this final day of the Great Glen Way twice, but I was determined to do it on this trip.  I got the 8:45am bus to Drumnadrochit and started walking at 9:20am

The first bit of this day follows the footway of the A82 out of Drumnadrochit - not an inspiring start.  But things rapidly improved as the trail turned left and began climbing away from the road.  The climb up to Abriachan is lengthy, but once you get to the top and the path levels out, this final day of the Great Glen Way is a DELIGHT.  The Great Glen Way suffers a bit from Green Tunnel Syndrome and an unchanging view for the first 55 miles, but on this day it moves away from Loch Ness and strikes out cross-country.  I was enjoying the novelty and the sunshine, but dark clouds loomed to the north.  I had brought my raincoat but not my waterproof overtrousers, so OF COURSE the sky opened and the coldest, heaviest rain I've had all trip fell, soaking through my scrub bottoms in short order.  There was nothing for it except to keep moving and hope the rain would stop, and it did in due course.  By the time I got to Abriachan Campsite and Cafe, the sun had come back out and my clothes were drying.  I stopped at the cafe for some soup, tea, and an absolutely massive slice of lemon sponge.  The price was a slightly steep 17 GBP, but this place has no competition hereabouts so I suppose they can charge what they want.  Very friendly people, though.

Leaving the cafe, it was time for a lengthy section of moorland walking, first along a minor road and then on a path through the heather.  This was probably my favorite part of the day.  The views around me were great, and I knew I was more than halfway through the day.  I got more confident that I would actually be able to finish this day!  Even when I got into a section of forest, and my knees started to protest the length of the day, my spirits remained high.

Abruptly I got to a clearing and a fantastic view of Inverness down below, which meant it was time to start descending.  As I began coming down, I started to see local people out for walks, so I knew I was getting close.  The the (in)famous sign: Inverness Castle, 4 miles.  Go, go, go!  I made my way through Inverness's outskirts, and when I popped out onto the Caledonian Canal I knew I really was getting close.  I passed more people out on late afternoon walks, including a woman completely absorbed with her phone, apparently oblivious to both me and her dog, who was luxuriantly rolling in funk several dozen meters behind her.

I crossed the bridge over the canal and swung around to follow the River Ness, crossing over the very pretty Ness islands.  Then up the east bank of the river, and heaving myself up one final hill to Inverness Castle.  I touched the marker at the official terminus exactly nine hours after beginning my day's walk in Drumnadrochit, and six years, eight months, and thirteen days after starting this, my first ever long-distance walk, from Fort William.  I am so proud and happy that I finished it.

Song of the day: "Prelude/Angry Young Man" by Billy Joel