Walking the West Highland Way, Part Three - Inveroran to Fort William

 A new day dawned, and after a beautiful, delicious breakfast, we were ready to leave Inveroran and head across Rannoch Moor, one of Europe’s largest remaining wildernesses. From descriptions I’d read and anecdotes I'd heard, it sounded like a bleak place where you could easily end up wading through bog. I didn’t find it desolate, and with a clearly defined path and dry weather didn’t stumble into any bogs by accident. There were even hillocks on which to stop for a snack. We were traversing it in relatively fine weather, I imagine it would be a different experience in the pelting rain. As with many sections of the Way there wasn’t much in the way of shelter. 

Leaving Rannoch Moor behind

On a clear day you can see quite some distance with mountains receding from view behind you, and new panoramas appearing ahead. The day starts with a steady incline before flattening out and gently descending before a further climb which gives your first views of Glen Coe and the iconic Buachaille Etive Mòr, menacingly standing guard. From above you can see the road that runs through the valley, and it was here that I realised how noisy motorbikes are, their roars reaching us from quite a distance across which sounds from the rest of the traffic did not pass.

Buachaille Etive Mòr and some of the local wildlife

It was our shortest day on the Way, arriving in time to lunch at the on-site pub at Kingshouse while we waited for our beds in the bunkhouse to be ready. The location of the hotel is undoubtedly stunning and you’re likely to encounter deer in the immediate surrounds. We were also treated to a colourful sunset which made Buachaille Etive Mòr appear as an erupting volcano.

Glorious sunshine to bid farewell to Glen Coe

The next day began with a disappointing breakfast but improved exponentially as the walk continued with some of the best panoramas of the trip. We were fortunate to have beautiful sunshine for this leg, one of my favourites. Leaving Kingshouse behind, you follow the valley floor to begin with. The road is visible (and audible at times) but I didn’t find it as oppressive as some guidebooks suggest. Regardless, the incredible views more than make up for having to share them with vehicles. You get a real sense of the scale of the mountains as you walk toward the base of the Devil’s Staircase, a busier section of the Way due to its popularity as a stand-alone walk.

On our way up the Devil's Staircase

There seems to be some disagreement of exactly when the name dates from but it seems to derive either from the numbers who lost their lives climbing it in inclement weather before the construction of the modern road, or in the dislike felt by many who had to carry building equipment up and down. Either way, it’s not as bad climbing it today, at least not in good weather during daylight hours. It is steep and you’ll likely need to stop to catch your breath, but the main difficulty was in the loose rocks slipping underfoot. Walking poles were helpful once again in staying upright. I’m not sure I’d fancy doing the route in reverse here.

Mountains as far as the eye can see

Reaching the summit you are rewarded with breathtaking views on all sides, and your first glimpse of Ben Nevis, reminding you how far you still have to go. Much of the remainder of the day’s walk stays at height, and seemed very popular with mountain bikers. I think we had one of the best lunch break spots this day, sitting on the side of the mountain, enjoying the views across the valley.

The descent in to Kinlochleven

The descent into Kinlochleven felt long and can be a bit hard on the knees, especially if they’re already feeling the strain, but it is a pleasant walk surrounded by trees. The village itself is very pretty with River Leven running through it.  We were lucky to be staying right next to the river with views of the mountains rising up behind it.

The view from the day's first ascent

The final day on the trail was a long one and we set off early, with slightly heavy hearts knowing it was almost over. After a short walk along the road you turn into a wooded area and follow a rocky path upward. Passing small waterfalls and streams, it’s a beautiful but brutal start to the day as you climb steeply out of the valley. There are glimpses of the view as you go but it is when you reach the top that it really opens up, and quite a view it is whether looking back over Kinlochleven or ahead along the length of the loch.

Miles of path ahead

Mercifully there’s no more intense ascents for a while and you enjoy an undulating route through the hills. It’s quite an open sections with streams frequently crossing the path. Sheep and ruined, abandoned farmhouses dot the route, giving a sense of the history of the place. The openness of the landscape means you can see the path snaking off into the distance more than most other sections of the Way.

The re-appearance of trees

After a couple of hours you reach a shift in the landscape, clumps of trees around but not crowding the view. Some splashes of colour appear in the form of purple and yellow flowers, and small bodies of water can be seen in the distance. It’s a very pleasant landscape to be walking through. At one point there is the option to leave the Way and take a shorter route along the road to Fort William. You would miss out on some stunning views by taking it.

The path continues with quite a few more inclines between you and the finish line. It was a sunny, relatively hot day when we did it and there had been very little shade to speak of. The trees offer occasional shelter but for the most part it’s quite an exposed section.

Approaching Ben Nevis from the south

Views of Ben Nevis and neighbouring mountains appear from the flower-lined path making for a pleasant backdrop, albeit one that makes you realise you’ve still got several hours of walking ahead of you. One final push uphill and you can see the town of Fort William in the distance. A wide gravel road takes you on a winding route down to the valley floor. 

Views toward the finish line

It having been a hot day, and one with no facilities en route, we’d been looking forward to reaching the Glen Nevis visitor centre in the hopes of finding a cold drink. Alas, thanks to a break by a stream on the descent we arrived shortly after 4pm and found it closed, the external toilet block locked. 

The remainder of the route follows the road into the town, and although we took detours to stay in the trees as much as possible there’s no denying it’s an anti-climactic end to an absolutely stunning walk. Arriving at the finish line having walked the length of the high street feels strange, surrounded by shoppers going about their day.

Final waymarkers

Despite the underwhelming final miles, the preceding 94 more than made up for it. It was an incredibly special experience spending my days walking side by side with my husband, sharing spectacular, ever-changing views. There were a few fellow walkers we’d seen regularly throughout who we were sad not to bump into on the final day, but hope they made it to the finish line. Before heading back to the daily grind we spent some time exploring Scotland’s cities, an adjustment to being surrounded by people and buildings once more. It felt strange no longer measuring our days in hours of walking, and worse still, when back at work, spending our days staring at screens away from each other. Talking to locals made it clear that life in the highlands is not easy, but the experience certainly opened our eyes to different ways of life, and showed us the benefits of living a slower life, more connected to nature. Now just to work out how to incorporate those lessons into daily life.

West Highland Way complete

Book Review: Tender Is The Night, F. Scott Fitzgerald

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It’s the summer of 1925 and Rosemary Hoyt, a young actress, freshly famous, arrives in the French Riviera with her mother. Full of innocence, she watches other visitors, and becomes infatuated with one group in particular. Dick Diver and his wife Nicole seem to be the centre, and she is drawn to them, sophisticated and in love, they signify a maturity that she longs for. Book one may focus on Rosemary, and introduces us to the cast of characters through her eyes, but book two and three shift the focus to Dick and Nicole, travelling back in time to show Dick in Switzerland when he was still practicing psychiatry, and Nicole was his patient. Book three delves deeper into their relationship and Dick’s descent into alcoholism. They see Rosemary again but she is not as central to the novel as you’d imagine from the opening.

Dick is really the main focus of the novel. To begin with he appears admirable and desirable, as Rosemary’s first flushes of attraction focus on him. Book two reveals a different side to him. Fitzgerald does not seem to be casting judgment upon him, but many readers will feel uncomfortable with his burgeoning romance with a patient, who is naturally in a position of vulnerability. We see the unhealthy root of their relationship, him believing that he gives her mental stability, and her providing him with the money he needs to become a partner in a Swiss psychiatric clinic. They are dependent on each other, and the unequal beginnings of their relationship doesn’t bode well. Dick does seem to love Nicole genuinely but her relapses into mental ill health take their toll. We see the real danger she poses to both them and their children, and Dick comes to see her as a liability, limiting his ability to succeed professionally. In book three he has become something of a social pariah as his drinking gets out of hand. He drinks excessively and in environments where it is not at all appropriate, insulting their friends and behaving unprofessionally. He no longer seems at all admirable, and we root for Nicole. It is widely believed that the couple is based on the Fitzgeralds and so it seems strange that the author would write himself into such a flawed character. 

In book one, we see Dick and Nicole’s relationship through Rosemary’s eyes, their sexuality intimidating to her. It is an aspect of life she hasn’t yet experienced but longs to. Book one leaves us with some ambiguity about an upsetting event with Nicole, and as with Dick we gain greater insight into her character when the gaze moves from that of Rosemary. Nicole’s ill health is brought on by being abused by her father. Her relationship with Dick, although not as unequal, also begins with a power imbalance and so we can draw some parallels. This colours their relationship with a sense of dependency, which again at times mirrors that of a parent and child. Dick may be concerned with healing Nicole but at times it feels as though he makes her worse, that his own preoccupation with her mental health is not positive for either of them. It also causes him to distance himself from her emotionally, trying to separate her well and unwell, but ultimately causing a coldness between them. As book three progresses, Nicole comes into sharper focus independently.

The writing is frequently beautiful, and there are many passages that will stay with me. The emotional impact of the closing pages pack quite a punch, and although towards the end of book one the plot becomes a bit vague and wandering, Fitzgerald succeeds in bringing it back around, completely absorbing the reader in the characters. He did apparently consider whether the book would have been better if it were written chronologically. This may have been a more linear approach but I think some of the power would be lost. We are like Rosemary at the beginning, viewing the characters through the eyes of an innocent. It is more interesting to see their complexities reveal themselves gradually, and the contents of book one would feel more inconsequential if the characters were already established. A book full of intriguing characters and carefully crafted sentences which makes for a luxurious reading experience.

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Blog Tour: Vagabond, Mark Eveleigh

This post is part of a blog tour. Thank you to Random Things Tours and Summersdale for providing me with a copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.

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Armed with a hammock, some walking memoirs on his phone, and a few bottles of water, Eveleigh sets out to walk 1225km across Spain on what proves to be one of the hottest summers on record. Prior to beginning he spent hours trawling Google Earth to map out the best route, although the reality doesn’t always follow expectation. Along the way he encounters an array of animals, some friendly, others less so, many blisters, and frequently less water than he would like. Certainly, he eats less well than he had fantasised about before setting off, seemingly having a knack of arriving at bars and restaurants just after the kitchen has closed.

He comments that stealth camping has become something of a trend, and yet he has obliviously been doing it for years. He prefers a hammock to a tent as it allows more awareness of what’s happening around you. Trying to go unnoticed does come with its drawbacks though, he admits that the last hour of each day’s walk is his least favourite as he searches for somewhere suitable to set up camp before the light completely fades. It also means long days - resting as darkness settles, and rising before the sun is fully up. 

Despite spending some of the walk on a (less popular) section of the Camino de Santiago, he meets very few others on the path. Indeed, some sections are so rarely trod that he gets to know those ahead by the marks their boots leave in the dirt. It’s a solitary walk but Eveleigh describes those he meets, on the track or in bars, in a lively fashion, giving a sense of the generosity and welcome he receives. He is conscious of his appearance, especially when there hasn’t been opportunity to wash, but he also acknowledges that he is just playing at being a vagabond, that he has the security of his home waiting for him, and the bank card in his pocket. 

Along the way he also reveals historical detail to the reader. The names and sometimes bizarre focuses of saints are a common theme, but so too do we learn about local tradition and custom, and political issues that continue to rage. In this way we get a broader view of the land he traverses. This is an interesting read that doesn’t shy away from the difficulties of a life on the road and the challenges many of the local communities face.

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Blog Tour: The Sky Beneath Us, Fiona Valpy

This post is part of a blog tour. Thank you to Random Things Tours and Lake Union Publishing for providing me with a copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.

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It’s March 2020 and Daisy is on her way to Kathmandu in the search of an ancestor’s story when her Mum phones to tell her she’s no longer able to join her as she’s come down with Covid. Daisy is encouraged to keep going, everyone believing the virus will only be an issue for a few weeks and so she does, but when she arrives things begin to fall apart. Treks are cancelled, flights are grounded, and it seems like she’s going to be stuck there before she’s even had a chance to get to Phortse to look for traces of Violet. She’s brought with her the letters and journals she found in an old chest at their Scottish estate that Violet wrote in the 1920s. A strong-willed, independent young woman, she went to Edinburgh to study at the School of Gardening against her family’s wishes. When she fell in love with a fellow gardener neither her family nor his approved, but an opportunity for him to assist on an expedition to Nepal provides hope for them to break free of their families and set up a home of their own. The last journal entry Daisy has is from 1929, when Violet’s story is really just beginning. Will she be able to uncover the rest of her story or will Covid ruin her plans?

Family is central to the story. Daisy’s marriage broke down after she gave up everything, leaving Scotland and a successful gardening business to move to London with her husband, and the trip to Nepal was about more than just searching for Violet, but also about rediscovering herself, finding her way out of the slump she’s been in since the marriage ended. Her relationship with her mother feels very relatable right from the start, with her playing down how she’s feeling with Covid and focussing on Daisy succeeding. Her relationship with her twin daughters, off to University, is transitioning, both as they find their way into adulthood, but also as they navigate the marriage breakdown and all the mess that comes with it. For Violet, family was a source of anxiety and restriction, with social mores being of utmost importance. Her relationship with her sister Hetty, however, was an essential part of her life, keeping her grounded and connected to Scotland long after she set off for Nepal. Her desire to look after her own daughter also showed her the lengths she would go to in order to keep her safe, to protect a part of Callum, her betrothed, with all that she can. We see how family and love can be a source of huge strength, but also a net that constrains if you let it.

Daisy and Violet are connected across the decades with a love of plants and a willingness to step outside their comfort zone. Valpy’s writing is evocative, bringing to life the landscapes they’re in, whether it be a cold and windy Edinburgh, or the glorious mountains of Nepal. You feel as if you can breathe the fresh mountain air and see the spectacular valleys of exotic flowers. It’s also a fascinating look into the practice of plant hunting and how findings were recorded and sent back to the UK.

The two women’s lives mirror each other also in living through periods of global upheaval. Violet lives in the aftermath of the First World War, through the Great Depression, and into the Second World War, whose darkness reaches her even in the mountains. The village of Phortse is also hugely impacted by the first successful attempt to summit Everest. The Sherpas believe it is wrong to climb the mountains, standing on the heads of gods, and so there is reluctance to become guides, despite the financial benefits it brings. The women stay home and pray for the forgiveness of the men and their safe return, but they accept that the tragedies that befall those who climb it are punishments from the gods. Daisy experiences the loneliness and anxiety of a world shut down by pandemic, and the pain of being separated from family at a time of trauma. Valpy constructs the story in such a way that these parallels are very clearly drawn. We see also how they both benefit from the welcoming community of Sherpas that they’re lucky enough to meet and stay with. The realisation that although life in the mountains is hard there is a freedom to it, and a strength in the love they experience. 

This is a gripping read, with the switch between time periods keeping you wanting more. The Covid lockdowns still being fresh in our memories, it can be emotional to read fiction based around them, bringing back the uncertainty and suffering, the isolation and sacrifices people made in being separated from loved ones in their final days. It is a reminder to never take your family for granted, nor to become complacent in the life we lead, which can be utterly unrecognisable in the blink of an eye. At times the plot is slightly predictable, but you are so invested in the characters that it doesn’t matter, your heart is shattered with them. 

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Walking the West Highland Way, Part Two - Rowardennan to Inveroran

Having stayed two nights in Rowardennan for the pleasure of climbing Ben Lomond, walkers that had started on the same day as us had raced ahead and we wouldn’t see them again. On day three we were to meet those we’d encounter most days until we reached Fort William. The trail seemed busier than the first two days, suggesting that most start their walk on a Monday. I say it was busier, but we still felt we were on our own for the majority of the journey.

Day three, Rowardennan to Inverarnan, is widely considered to be the toughest day. I’d done as much research as I could to understand what challenges lay ahead. The main message was that there would be a lot of rocks to clamber over and tree roots to navigate. I had been concerned that all fourteen miles would be a slog but some last minute intel suggested the worst of it covered only about three miles, which gave me some hope.

An honesty box heading out of Rowardennan

The start of the day was fairly gentle. An honesty box not far out of Rowardennan offered the chance to stock up on snacks and blister plasters. The path was fairly wide and flat, the loch on one side, intermittent gentle waterfalls on the other. Knowing that the afternoon was set to be a challenge we opted for the high route, hoping to make the journey to Inversnaid as painless as possible. We didn’t regret it. Rather than descend to a narrow, rocky path, we were treated to a continuation of the wide smooth path we’d been enjoying for most of the morning. We were surrounded by pine trees and moss covered undergrowth, the occasional view across the loch visible. 

Views on the high route

When the two routes converged the path began to get narrower, an abundance of ferns lining the route. We dropped down to the level of the water with some small beaches to enjoy the full view across the loch. As we approached Inversnaid the path became rockier and there was one final steep ascent to take us to the bridge to cross the waterfall and down to Inversnaid Hotel, the only place on the route to buy food until Inverarnan. Walkers happy to add a bit more incline can go in search of the bunkhouse which I believe also serves food.

Reviews of the hotel did not always sing the praises of how welcome walkers are, but we found our reception perfectly friendly. They have a dedicated room to leave your rucksack and boots, and a room where you’re welcome to eat a packed lunch if you have one. The bar itself only serves food until one o’clock so it’s worth ensuring you arrive in good time. I would highly recommend the scones.

A rocky section of the walk

After a pleasant lunch overlooking the loch we set off to see what this infamous section of the Way had to offer. There’s no denying it is slow going, and I was grateful to have a walking partner to pull me up some of the trickier sections, but overall it wasn’t as bad as I was expecting. There are sections of relatively smooth path between the rockier sections but there is a lot of up and down and you have to watch where you’re putting your feet so much that there’s not much opportunity to look up and appreciate where you are. 

An overgrown section of the path

After a few hours we emerged from the trees on to a beach which felt like the end of the loch (it was not). It was a nice spot to sit and enjoy the views. The path from there is more open for a while, although overgrown in places. You’ll still experience more rocks on the journey but the worst is now behind you.

Final views of Loch Lomond

You bid farewell to the loch from an elevated position, offering a sense of space and distance. A small plane swept through as we were enjoying the view. Looking ahead you can see rolling mountains, giving a taste of what your next few days will involve. I was a little sad to leave the loch behind, it had provided a beautiful backdrop to the walk so far, but the scenery for the rest of the route soon cured me of this.

Into the mountains

The descent into Inverarnan felt like a bit of a slog after a long day of walking. It’s not the most scenic part of the route as your view is blocked by trees, and although you catch glimpses of where you’re going it’s a long time before you arrive.

Our home for the night was the Drovers’ Inn. Built in 1705, this inn is said to be haunted. We didn’t see any ghosts but you can’t help but see a lot of taxidermy. The reception area includes a stuffed Canadian bear (in a kilt, of course) and the collection spreads throughout the bar. The staff were all friendly and they really went above and beyond.

The following day would see us walk to Tyndrum on what would prove to be a beautiful, varied route. The day started with a series of waterfalls as you follow the River Falloch. Before long you are climbing to some stunning panoramic views of the mountains, a road just about visible but far enough away not to disturb the peace of the walk.

Waterfalls on day four

The path splits with an option to stop off in Crianlarich, which we didn’t take as we were well stocked up on supplies, but regretted not being able to get the stamp for our West Highland Way passport. There is an information board and bench at the fork which make for a convenient place for a lunch break, but if you can withhold the hunger for a little longer, at the top of the next hill there are picnic benches with arguably even more beautiful views.

Some very official looking way-marking

The path then winds its way through forestry track, with some sad views over expanses of land where the trees have all been chopped down. Descending to the valley floor you cross a river and pass through farmland. It was here we saw our only highland cow of the walk.

Farmland might not sound the most thrilling of landscapes but it felt idyllic as the clouds cleared and the sun shone brightly on fields ringed by mountains. Again, there were information boards telling you which mountains you could see as well as some information about the land and its uses. You’ll also see the remains of the fourteenth century St. Fillan’s Priory with connections to Robert the Bruce and an historic graveyard.

Idyllic views across the farmland

The path then takes what feels like a circuitous route up and through a heather-lined path before descending once more into the small village of Tyndrum. Home to the famous Green Welly Stop, it’s a good place to stock up as there’s minimal opportunities on the rest of the route.

The next day’s walk to Inveroran goes through open landscapes with views for miles. The path is wide enough to walk two abreast and is not too tough on the feet. You have clear views of Beinn Odhar, standing slightly apart from the other peaks, it appears as a cone. Once you’ve circled it the path remains open and you see glimpses of the railway line which would offer stunning views without the effort of the hike. Eventually you descend to the Bridge of Orchy, a small picturesque village where refreshments can be procured and facilities used at the Bridge of Orchy Hotel where sandwiches come super-sized as standard.

Beinn Odhar

Crossing the River Orchy you have the chance to look back and admire the stone bridge, mountains rising above the sprinkling of white houses. A forestry path ascends with beautiful views over the mountains and your first glimpses of Loch Tulla. Reaching the peak provided one of my favourite views of the walk as a stunning panorama of mountains opened up, the loch stretching into the distance, with what looks like a gingerbread house perched on its edge.

The Bridge of Orchy

It was a peaceful place, one pair of walkers visible on their descent but otherwise nobody in sight for as far as they eye could see. Having made good time there was no pressure to rush ahead and so we were able to sit awhile and enjoy the view, appreciating the joy that comes with spending every day in gorgeous landscapes under mercifully clear skies. A deep contentment settles and a desire for life to be made up of more moments like this.

Stunning views before the final descent of the day

As was so often the case you could see the end point some time before arriving. It was a relatively steep descent, again with loose gravel and larger rocks protruding. I was grateful for my walking poles which stopped me falling over more than once.

Inveroran Hotel itself was a lovely place to stay, the owners have obviously put a lot of thought into making it a pleasant rest stop, and the dinner was the best I had on the trail.