Sunday, 28 June 2015

.....Let's see if it's true"

The shitstorm of indifference which greeted my previous post notwithstanding, I feel honour bound (“Not too tight there, Honour”)  to complete the account of my little holiday in Morvern. It will, however, be a truncated account – a trilogyof two parts, or an example of what could be called Austerity Blogging.



Day2 and it’s up the “old road” beside the loch to Ardtornish estate and gardens.


Just past the ferry terminal is the Lochaline sand mine where high quality silica sand is tunnelled out from beneath the overlying basalt.


Supposedly the highest quality in the world, the sand is shipped out to Pilkingtons at St.Helens to make precision optical equipment



Ardtornish House is a typical Victorian pile at the head of the sea loch. The gardens are well established and typical of the classic Argyll form, with lots of rhodos and azaleas. Not, however, in the top league in my humble opinion

Kinlochaline Castle. Restored mediaeval tower house.


Another smashing day. Easy terrain, perfect midgieless walking weather and about 8 miles, including walking round the garden, according to the Viewranger thingy on my portable telephone.


Day the Third and it was time to head West.

Firstly to visit Keil Church. This was one of the first mainland outposts of the Columban monks.


Ruins of the pre-reformation church

 The famous 14th century disc-headed cross carved in the style of the Iona school.


The little shed on the right is the session house which contains several 14-15 century carved tombstones brought in from the churchyard for safe keeping.


One day I may claim my inheritance.

I continued westward along the coast road to Drimmin, and here is where I had a Road to Drimmin moment.At this point, about 20 metres in front of me, a full on Scottish wildcat walked calmly across the road and into the trees. Even with my impaired eyesight it was unmistakable, although, over the years, I had previously only had “possible” sightings in the headlights at night. I subsequently discovered that the Wildcat Protection Zone, where quite calm and only slightly annoyed pussies are being ethnically cleansed to preserve the purity of their really wild cousins, has been extended from Ardnamurchan into Morvern.

 I ended up at the Community Woodland where lunch was taken. As I sat looking down this ride, with no sight or sound of human activity, I got the notion that, if I sat quietly for long enough,  something magical would happen. A deer might emerge cautiously from the trees. Or a platoon of the Japanese army. Or Alan Whicker. As darkness fell on the third night, I had to abandon this notion.

So that’s about it really.


There’s a wee Davie Broon for Alan R. Clean up the terminals and flush the fuel system and it might even start.

A good time was had by all. Ibiza next year , I think

Thanks to Hank for this



  1. Whicker is unreliable. More so since his death. Just sayin...

    1. Well yes - the original is technically dead. But there are still several Python clones on Whicker Island.

  2. The carved stone display reminds me of the set up at Kilmartin - it's an interesting place altogether. They didn't have any wildcats there though, so I'm proper jealous.

    1. Aye, Kilmartin - I couldn't remember the name when I was writing.
      Saw a sea eagle as well, so I just need to see a pine marten and Nessie !