A hectic day, but an interesting one. A letter delivered a couple of days
previously kindly informed us that the electrical supply would be
interrupted due to 'essential substation maintenance' at around 9 am this
morning. In fact it was 08.58 am, and my toast had literally just popped
up :-)

Alma had the foresight to fill two Thurmos flasks full of boiled water
from the kettle for tea and coffee (already worth her weight in gold
after only 2 days marriage) so my mug of Earl Grey was uninterrupted....

We decided to drive up to Loch Ness again, this time over a mountain
route taking in some twisty turny narrow roads full of German and Dutch
tourists, and ending up at Dores, opposite Urquehart Castle on the south
east bank where we stopped for lunch on a pebbly beach. Plenty of photo-
opps here as we scrambled over the rocks and threw down some sandwiches.

Jostein drew his 645nII from its bag and proceeded down to the waterline.
I did battle with my Manfrotto ballhead that suddenly gave up the ghost
24 hours earlier - refusing to lock up properly, and refusing to rotate
on it's base as advertised. We puzzled over it for a while but the
combine brains of a representative force from Norway and Britain were
defeated and we settled for a beer instead. I persevered on with it
however, jiggling it into action and then tightening it with herculean
effort. Sort of like Caveman's humour, it works after a fashion ;-)

The odd stop along the route provided one or two colourful locales and at
the southern-most tip of the loch we happened upon Fort Augustus where
many a tourist pauses to admire the boats gathering in the half a dozen
locks that empty into the loch - if you get my meaning.

Thoughts turning towards dinner, I spied a butchers and popped in for
some local pork and herb sausages and scotch pies witch turned out to be
a big hit with the Norwegians. They just about scoffed the lot!

After returning back to the shack, er chalet, I started on a bottle of
dry French white and soon had the 2 visiting clans tucking into bangers
and mash while the Bob Harris (country+western) show blared out some
great tracks. [If you're into country and would like to hear the English
slant on it - and a bloody good DJ to boot - check out Bob Harris on
http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio2/country/bob_harris/index.shtml - click on
'listen again' to the right - his show is on every Thursday evening at
1900 BST / 1800 GMT.]

Difficult to convey the splendour and beauty of the place in these few
paragraphs - it isn't on the grand scale that I would classify such
places as NYC, the Grand Canyon, the Norwegian fjords, and so on. It has
a charm all of its own, and I really connect with it. The scent of the
pine as you walk through the woods is overpowering and delicious. The
light is fabulous and changes so rapidly that quite literally if you
blink, you miss it. The people are very friendly and I adore the Scots
accent - it is simply so familiar. I could easily live here as my *wife*
says, and I could.

Perhaps not just yet, as I still have a lot to do in my career and life
back home in the south of England. I retire (officially) in 2025 - not
that far away really - and I could see myself forever roaming the fells
in search of the perfect light. Well, at least here or France ;-)

Dinner down, PDML digests checked (thanks to all who have offered
congrats on our marriage - I have read most out to the bride - who has
chuckled where appropriate and paid attention when barked at!) and lights
nearly out. The conclusion of another day, with only another remaining.
Tomorrow may see us climb one of the highest peaks around (Cairngorm) at
several thousand feet (only tiddlers compared to *your* neck of the
woods, I know ;-) carrying camera gear, food, water etc - well, at least
to the train. There's a funicular railway that goes to the top and we'll
be on it. God only knows how I'll cope with Grandfather Mountain - I
suppose Bill Owen's beer will carry us to the top of that one - *parp*.



Cheers,
  Cotty


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