Wigtwizzle - Norman Smith's Travel Blog.

The Road To The Isles

I always travel The Road To The Isles when I stay in Fort Willian as it has everything that The Highlands has to offer in a manageable day's drive. Once you get past the industrial outskirts of Corpach, every inch is a joy to travel. Beautiful Lochs, majestic hills, picturesque rivers and secluded bays and beaches accompany it's 40 mile route to the port of Mallaig.

The only settlements you come across are the sleepy coastal village of Arisaig (meaning The Safe Bay) and a few miles westwards Morar which gives its name to The Silver Sands. Morar is also home to Scotland's shortest salmon river, namely the River Morar which is only 400yds in length.

The Arisaig area is also the place where Bonnie Prince Charlie embarked for France on the 20 September 1746 and The Prince's Cairn lies on the shores of Loch Nan Uamh, a few miles east of the village.

The other village Morar was originally a crofting area so the present settlement is quite modern; having been built around the West Highland Railway's station which I presume was built there to serve the whole of the coastal peninsula.

My journey started off in snow but the farther west I travelled, the less it got and by the time I reached the coast there was no sign of any at all and the weather was bracing but fair. I always spend a lot of time in the Camusdarach area, it's a place I just never want to leave. The beaches are stunning and littered with small coves and islands which attract many varieties of birds.

I had my lunch sat on a rock listening to some lapwings and looking across the Sound of Arisaig towards the Small Isles and Skye. The weather on Skye looked absolutely foul, a phrase I think I've used a lot over the years and a rainbow did start to appear over that way but my excitement was only short lived.

I returned to the car just as a few spots of rain appeared and then completed the remaining few miles to Mallaig. By the time I arrived it was raining quite hard so I just parked up by the harbour and had a look to see if there were any seals about as they always follow the fishing vessels homeward. No luck that day I'm afraid.

With the weather turning, I just retraced my outward journey back to Fort William. These days I instinctively know when to admit defeat and beat an hasty retreat and this was one of them! That night I had one of the best pizzas ever in The Black Isle Bar where they have their own wood fired oven and washed it down nicely with a couple of pints of Yellowhammer IPA. A good way to end an excellent day.

Callop River

Glenfinnan Hills from Callop

Jacobite Monument, Glenfinnan

Loch Shiel

Glenfinnan Hillside

Lòn Liath, Arisaig

Camusdarach

Heading Up North

Little did I know when I came on this weekend away how my life and the world would change over the next few weeks. The coronavirus was just beginning to cause concern but, as a lone traveller who keeps himself to himself anyway, I decided to bite the bullet and booked two nights in the Alexandra Hotel in Fort Willaim.

I had every weather imaginable going up but that only added to the enjoyment. I did manage to get out of the car a few times and take some photos, namely on Rannoch Moor and at Glencoe Lochan. All the hills had snow on the tops so, by using my 300mm lens, I could zoom in and get some really good wintery shots. The sun actually made an appearance whilst I was out walking round Glencoe Lochan but it didn't last for too long and was soon replaced with drizzle.

It was still wet when I arrived in Fort William so I just booked in to the hotel and got my feet up for an hour or so. In the evening I popped out for a couple of beers, having one in The Grog and Gruel and then one in the Black Isle Bar which is the best pub in town. They were both very quiet so social distancing was never an isssue. The town was deserted as well. I decided to have a pizza in The Black isle bar on Saturday night as they looked and smelt so good. When I got back in to the hotel I had a bottle of lager in the bar and then had an early night.

The Black Mount

Deer, King House Hotel

Bidean nam Bian

Falls of Glen Coe

Glencoe Lochan

Loch Leven

Road to Kinlochlevan

Hillside trees

Loch Levan

Hillside Detail

Bidean nam Bian

Sherwood Forest And The Legend Of Robin Hood

A Song Of Sherwood by Alfred Noyes

Sherwood in the twilight, is Robin Hood awake?
Grey and ghostly shadows are gliding through the brake,
Shadows of the dappled deer, dreaming of the morn,
Dreaming of a shadowy man that winds a shadowy horn.

Robin Hood is here again: all his merry thieves
Hear a ghostly bugle-note shivering through the leaves,
Calling as he used to call, faint and far away,
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.

Merry, merry England has kissed the lips of June:
All the wings of fairyland were here beneath the moon,
Like a flight of rose-leaves fluttering in a mist
Of opal and ruby and pearl and amethyst.

Merry, merry England is waking as of old,
With eyes of blither hazel and hair of brighter gold:
For Robin Hood is here again beneath the bursting spray
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.

Love is in the greenwood building him a house
Of wild rose and hawthorn and honeysuckle boughs:
Love is in the greenwood, dawn is in the skies,
And Marian is waiting with a glory in her eyes.

Hark! The dazzled laverock climbs the golden steep!
Marian is waiting: is Robin Hood asleep?
Round the fairy grass-rings frolic elf and fay,
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.

Oberon, Oberon, rake away the gold,
Rake away the red leaves, roll away the mould,
Rake away the gold leaves, roll away the red,
And wake Will Scarlett from his leafy forest bed.

Friar Tuck and Little John are riding down together
With quarter-staff and drinking-can and grey goose-feather.
The dead are coming back again, the years are rolled away
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.

Softly over Sherwood the south wind blows.
All the heart of England his in every rose
Hears across the greenwood the sunny whisper leap,
Sherwood in the red dawn, is Robin Hood asleep?

Hark, the voice of England wakes him as of old
And, shattering the silence with a cry of brighter gold
Bugles in the greenwood echo from the steep,
Sherwood in the red dawn, is Robin Hood asleep?

Where the deer are gliding down the shadowy glen
All across the glades of fern he calls his merry men—
Doublets of the Lincoln green glancing through the May
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day—

Calls them and they answer: from aisles of oak and ash
Rings the Follow! Follow! and the boughs begin to crash,
The ferns begin to flutter and the flowers begin to fly,
And through the crimson dawning the robber band goes by.

Robin! Robin! Robin! All his merry thieves
Answer as the bugle-note shivers through the leaves,
Calling as he used to call, faint and far away,
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.