In Scotland Again - Killin to Bunree: Episode 3

Those readers familiar with H V Morton's 'In Search of Scotland' and 'In Scotland Again' will already have issues with our route. We have not been strictly faithful to Morton's 1933 account and have slipped between his two journeys. Our trip has taken us to Ayr (as did Morton's in 1929) - and not to Arran. But that is how travel works, and I suspect, how occasionally, Morton too used his artistic licence.

However, we are to meet up again with him on the road to Fort William as we head for Bunree, between Onich and Corran on the A82, and this means that his bull-nosed Morris and my Auto Trail Tracker can pass each other in the heart of Glencoe (chapter 10 section 2 of 'In Search of Scotland').

We are already apprehensive, remembering Dicken's words, as quoted by Morton, from 'Foster's Life'  "anything so bleak and wild and mighty in its lonliness, as in the whole country, it is impossible to conceive. Glecoe itself is perfectly terrible. The pass is an awful place". 

Would Morton recognise today's Glencoe? He would continue to marvel at 'a landscape without mercy' - a land 'still dreaming of geological convulsions'. The mountains that border Glencoe remain ominous and overbearing. There is drama - simply from the inescapable landscape. But what of man's efforts to tame the journey? Morton would undoubtedly be saddened. Engineers have cured 'the worst road in Scotland' that 'winds its way through the solitude'; but with the cure, comes the crowd. Yes, the glen is busy as we journey on a September morning - still preserved and uninhabited, but with coaches (and motorhomes) delivering tourists rather than travellers. Morton's shepherd no longer walks his sheep in a 'grey wave over the grass on invisible feet', he rides an ATV. Enchanting Diana's no longer visit in breeches and dubbined boots, they are tamed in designer jeans and trainers as they inspect the glen from the viewing point. And sadly, despite Stephanie and I singing 'D'ye ken John Peel with his coat so gay' we fail to encounter the Highlander Campbell in Crianlarich, or on the mountain.

So we leave the glen behind and reach Loch Leven where the A82 swings to the west along its southern shore which will take us through North Ballachulish, on to Onich and Bunree at Loch Linhee.

Let us return promptly to chapter 6 section 3 of 'In Scotland Again' to rejoin Morton. 'Imaging dark mountains rising from a tidal loch, ridges of trees marching the hills like regiments, the mountains piling up in the distance towards the gloomy fastnesses of Glencoe and Lochaber, the whole scene mirrored in sleety-grey water ruffled at the edges by a fresh wind and swirling in a central channel with an incoming tide'. Like Morton, Stephanie and I have reached the Loch Leven crossing, and pause, looking for Morton's ferry boatman; but instead we see but an expanse of box bridge. The Highlands are surely tamed as 7 metres of motorhome hums across the loch on tarmac. Needless to say, we miss the ferryman's Ancient Mariner's eye and the Renfrewshire traveller. How times change.

To my knowledge, Morton never visited the lochside at Bunree. Had he done so, he would have experienced a true Scottish delight. This is to be our eighth night, and destined to be the start of a longer stay. A single red traffic light turns to green, and we thread our way along the approach road to Bunree site as it opens out into the glorious bay where Loch Linnhe narrows to the Corran crossing.

Our pitch is lochside. Now in spirit we can recreate a sense of Morton's Loch Leven crossing here on Linnhe. Our Auto Trail Tracker faces out to the bay, and sitting in gathering dusk we prepare to navigate out across the loch. The light dims. A single buoy blinks out towards Clovullin and the straits lighthouse spins a flash of warning to our starboard side.

Time to pull the blinds, to return to the Cardhu single malt, and to sleep.