LEJOG Blog

Another fine breakfast. Rosebank is an interesting house. Chris remarked that it was like the TARDIS. One enters through the door of what appears to be a modest cottage and suddenly, you are faced with a really impressive hallway and stairwell.

We left soon after 9:20 and initially, we made good progress. Before we reached the village of Ford, I remarked to Janet about two large birds of prey I had seen above the loch. One was silhouetted against the sky, the other against the hillside but both were perched on the dead limbs of an old pine tree. The sign on the gate said "No entry: birds nesting". My immediate suspicion of ospreys was confirmed a few minutes later. We met a man, from Norfolk as it happened, having a quick drag outside the Ford village inn. He confirmed, (after asking "'ave you got a loight, boy?") that there were indeed ospreys at that location.

Soon, we began climbing and it was tough. Loch Awe appeared on our right and it is aptly named. Janet and I had a good view of a bullfinch and frequently the trees would give way to provide a splendid vista along the loch. We came across a coffee shop in Dalevich where we each had cake and coffee. I had chocolate cake. Is there anything finer than a really glutinous chocolate cake to bring strength back to tired legs.

We didn't tarry long because we still had a long way to go. As usual, Chris had forged ahead. Suddenly, my attention was drawn by the shrill cry of a bird of prey of some sort. I could not tell what it was which uttered the cry - the way it tucked its wings in and swooped looked to me like a peregrine - but there was no doubting the object of its ire: there, majestic with long slow wingbeats which clearly distinguish it from the buzzard for which many an optimist mistakes it was a golden eagle. I stopped the bike in an instant and readied the camera, but in my excitement, I forgot to zoom in. I had time for only one shot and the entertainment was over, but there were three birds in the photograph. A large gull, the peregrine/buzzard and the eagle - the last being mobbed by the other two.

We stopped for lunch in Kilchrenan and it was there that a mystery was explained. All morning, a series of cars and much larger vehicles kept overtaking us on a road we had expected to be deserted. Apparently, there had been some sort of chemical spillage not far from Kilmartin and all the traffic had been diverted along the road we had chosen for the very reason that there would be very little traffic on it.

When we reached Taynuilt, we were so much behind the clock that we decided to press on. The A-road offered us the opportunity to make better progress and we grasped it with both hands. At one point, a large troupe of motorcyclists, all seemingly immaculately turned out in the Geordie chapter of Hells Angels team colours went thundering past on their Harley-Davidsons. Somewhere amongst them was an absolutely pristine Land Rover in the same Geordie chapter livery which was clearly their support vehicle. So there you have it: the Geordie chapter of Hells Angels needs a sag-wagon. What a bunch of big girls' blouses.

We crossed Loch Etive by the Connel bridge. Now some seriously high mountains were coming into view. Loch Etive is fed by the Etive river in Glen Etive, which in turn is a southerly branch of Glen Coe. We still made good progress all the time keeping a weather eye open for an otter or some other interesting creature on the shores of Loch Linnhe, but although the water was beautiful and crystal clear, we saw no other creatures of great interest.

Gradually, we approached the House of Keil and suddenly we came upon it. We rode down the driveway to be met by the spectacular sight of a fortified Stewart mansion and a pair of noisy labradors. I rang the bell and the Lady of the House appeared. We were made most welcome and shown to our rooms. What rooms they were. Janet and I had a superb family room overlooking the loch and there below our bedroom window were the fortifications and three cannons. We were informed that two of the cannons were seventeenth century but the other was from the Armada.

The whole house was steeped in history. Antlers on the wall (brow, bay and tray and three on top) alongside ancient portraits of ancestors and pictures of dead birds. Was it a snipe and a woodcock? And more incongruously, a wood pigeon and a greater spotted woodpecker. In addition, there was a Broadwood upright piano, probably Victorian to judge by the candle holders, which were still in place. Beethoven himself used a Broadwood. I was very tempted to give it a try but I felt so much that I was privileged to have a window open slightly onto a bygone era that I didn't dare.

We had taken our own food to eat this evening as there were no restaurants or pubs within easy distance. The Lady of the House supplied us with a tray of tea. Unfortunately, the first one ended up all over the floor with the teapot smashed. The carpet looked very expensive and I'm sure a pot of scalding tea and a large jug full of milk did it no good at all. The second tray full was rather more of a success and we had a very enjoyable if simple meal of bread, ham, red wine, tomato and red pepper, followed by a lump of bannock, and of course a cup of tea.

Before I went to bed tonight, I don't think I knew what dark was. There are no street lights in the road outside the House of Keil and our room overlooked the loch. I pulled the curtains back, turned the light off and I could not make out the shape of the window in the wall opposite. It is darker here now than anything I can ever remember - darker than the cupboard I used to hide in as a child because there was always that friendly gleam of light under the door to connect me to the world outside. Here there is nothing, just the complete, total and utter absence of light.