In Scotland Again - Bunree, Loch Linnhe to Loch Duich and Morvich: Episode 4

Whilst HV Morton, on his 1933 trip, forges ahead in his bull-nosed Morris to Fort William and the Mod, we are resting back at Bunree, looking out over the bay at stunning sunsets. September has gathered pace, 'the Rowan berries are red as the blood in Glen Spean', and the bracken russet brown.

Henry Morton's observations of the drama of the Highlands is so real here. One moment huge grey clouds race from the west into the bay and rain lashes against the camper roof, the next, sun lights and warms the craggy landscape as 'a day of atonement'.

Today is one of the atoning days, and we thread our way to the Corran ferry, just under half a mile from the site. Taking the little track from the roadside path to the ferry point, we arrive just as the boat moors across the narrowest point of Loch Linnhe at Ardgour. As the cars and vans arrive to queue, we feel almost intrepid as free foot passengers, and are waved on first by the crew.

Take the high shelf on the boat to enjoy the view and feel the wind. The crossing takes but four minutes or so, departure and arrival assisted by hydraulics rather than 1930's rough ropes. But nevertheless, it is still a ritual. The cars are stacked so that barely a crisp packet could be placed between their bumpers. Drivers, new to the ferry, look anxious, whilst the regular travellers spin their vehicles into place. The doctor's Mercedes is given a place at the front for quick get-away, whilst butcher's van holds back to fill an awkward slot across the deck. Did a siren sound? Morning sunshine glints on a computer screen in the wheelhouse. We slip across the smooth loch.

Disembarking at the Inn of Ardgour, we are indeed back in Morton's 1930's. When the noise of engines has subsided, there is nothing left but the breeze lifting across the crofts cluttering the bay. We stroll north past the parish church, designed and built by Thomas Telford, to take a sharp left turn up the lane and into the woods towards Lochan na h Eaglais, a perfect lake rimmed with silver.

If time forgot, it forgot this place. Here we dip down to the lakeside to sit in silence. A carp plops beneath overhanging branches and finches nibble the seeds of reeds. Otherwise, it is totally still -even the breeze that blew on Linnhe has evapourated in stillness.

The track takes us round to the crofting community of Clovullin and its village shop where a purchase, however small, must be made. From there, the road leads back to Corran lighthouse and the ferry home.


Two days seep into four before we resume Morton's route. Leaving Bunree, we travel north to Fort William, stopping not for the ceilidh but for provisions and fuel at Morrisons; and at Invergarry, we head west on the A87 past Loch Garry towards Lochs Layne and Cluanie - eventually to reach Shiel Bridge and Loch Duich where the leaves are turning 'blood-red and plum-yellow'.

On our route we meet again with H V Morton at chapter 7 section 3 of 'In Scotland Again'. The road, running alongside 'the roof of the highlands' is a delight, with mile after mile of wilderness tamed only by the Cluani Inn.

Beyond at Mam Rattachan before Glenelg, Morton observed 'As the light was drawn from the sky the mountains became grape-blue. Grey mists crept through the valleys; dark mists were hung from gorge to gorge high up in the wilderness of the hills. Above, the first star burned; and the mountains settled into silence and the dark'. 

We are on 'the road to the isles' and our way to Morvich.