Today was our first boat trip, the 10am Knoydart ferry to Inverie on Loch Nevis. The other passengers were locals who appeared to to the mainland to get their food shopping and the crew helped them with their bags. They all seem to know each other.
According to the lady that sold us the trip, that although it is on the mainland, it is cut off from everywhere else via road. So I was a bit surprised that they had cars there, although not a lot was tarmacced. A very few houses were dotted on the hillside, with a gift shop, forge, the most remote pub in Britain (its in the Guinness book of records) and all were closed as expected. A map showed us the walking routes and those to avoid if you didnt have the gear or experience, there were also mountain bike routes, also not for beginners.
The basic route still climbed the hill, because all walks here at least start with a steep hill and if youre lucky they continue with a steep hill and end with a sharp decline. The path took us through lots of pine trees and Christmas Trees, the silence shattered
Eventually we arrived at a campsite that was put together by volunteers, with benches, a hut and loo that they are very proud of. Obviously Glyn and I both had a go on it and theres a lot of information to read in there about and together to build the loo and the science behind it with lots of photos. The photos were of it being built, not it being used, just in case you were wondering. The previous loo was a shovel next to a tree and there was a photo of that too.
No one was camping, so it was incredibly quiet and we stopped to enjoy that with our pack lunches overlooking Loch Nevis. We planned to continue along the shore, looking for somewhere really remote to fly drones, but a big river diverted us inland as there was no way over it until we were too far away. Further up we crossed a bridge that had a notice saying we were free to walk there but stick to the river
and dont go near the farmshop and barn as they are privately owned. We were a few miles away from Inverie that has a minute population so Im guessing they must get a fair few people camping to keep a farm shop going.
A walled off area contained a graveyard, with the stones ranging from a good few hundred years old to only a few decades. Everyone was called Mackay, or were married to or born a Mackay. A notice also let us know that there war graves here too but Ive no idea which graves were those.
The distant mountains were snowcapped, but it wasnt that cold and the sun was shining. The air was so crisp and clean, the river water perfectly clear so I could see the bottom. Id brought my tripod so far so I was going to use it, I asked Glyn if hed brought any filters and got laughed at. So he sat reading whilst I tried to do a bit of fancy photography, I even spotted some deer with massive antlers in the distance. A sign at the river had warned us that we were not allowed to take any discarded
antlers, but even if we did, theyd never fit in the Fiat 500. It was a beautiful area with no sign of any other people and appeared to stretch out for miles. Theres no way we could have flown drones here though because you just know an angry bod would appear if it looked like we were going anywhere near the deer.
We turned back because the return ferry was at 3pm and if we missed it, there was nowhere to stay and it would have been many days walk back, thats assuming we didnt get lost, which we would, so not an option. The path back was a bit undulating but not our usual steep fare and Glyn was concerned that Id not had enough hills today. Randomly we found a rusty Singer sewing machine in the wood, totally nowhere near a house, Id love to know the story behind that. The area was strewn wit fallen trees, thick with heavy moss so that the area was carpeted in green. Some of the trees had grown in unusual and very bent shapes.
but everyone. People walking past say hello, cyclists wave and all seem happy to chat when asked questions.
