West Highland Week – May 2012

A week’s break in Scotland with Sarah, which was a really long time coming. Trips planned for Christmas time and Easter had to be abandoned due to fearsome weather, so we reckon we deserved the break. The main plan was to get out to the islands, and the timetable allowed a good round trip of Arisaig – Eigg – Rum – Arisaig, but we had a few days to play with first.

It started with a few classic scrambles in Glencoe, Curved Ridge on the Friday was a bit cold and breezy, but nothing too unsettling and a really great climb as always. Being a Friday we more or less got the place to ourselves, a big group on the top moved off just as we got there, and we stayed around a while just enjoying the scenery.

Down to the King’s House for a good scoff and a few pints, then down Glen Etive to camp for the night. It was a first chance to show Sarah all the places in the Glen I’d enjoyed as a kid when May and John lived up there, and we drove down to the loch later for a wee look. They were harvesting the trees, and working late loading them onto a big barge. Makes sense as you wouldn’t get trucks down the road very easily.

A good night’s kip and we were off for the Aonach Eagach. (Wow – spellcheck came up with earache!). Stopped at the top layby to drop off trainers, and then drove down to the new car park just at the bridge where you turn off for the Clachaig. There’s a great path more or less straight up from here to the top of the Munro, and it’s a good trick for busy weekends as it means you go against the crowds which means less hanging around. Met some nice folk on the top, a guy from Falkirk, and a German lady who didn’t half know her geography. The air was very clear so no problems with visibility, turns out she visits Scotland about four times a year for walking trips, more than lots of Scots!

The ridge was just brilliant as ever, warmer than yesterday, although some snow in the handholds on the shady side made for cold fingers. Crowds not too bad, everyone was doing fine over the pinnacles, although one group of five guys were really fretting about starting them, and were asking where the best escape routes were. You really wonder how anyone even gets onto the Ridge without an idea what they’re letting themselves in for?

Got to far end, made it down, switched to trainers power and had a nice stroll down the glen, Clachaig mobbed, including a birthday party, so quick pint and off. Tried phoning a few bunkhouses but all full so just motored on up to Arisaig and camped in the first site we found. It was fine, although we didn’t realise till the morning there were no showers! Ok for a tenner I suppose but won’t be back.

The sun was shining in Arisaig as we went to buy our tickets for the Shearwater; had a brief moment of panic when I though they were going to ask “have you booked”, but no such nonsense and we had a really straightforward sail out to Eigg. Even sunnier here, and a helpful bloke let us ditch the bags in the bike shed and we set off up the Scuir. It’s a great little walk, up through woods and farmland, the across the moor with the bump looming above, it really is a weird bit of rock. We debated the possibility of getting a Via Ferrata up the steep end, sacrilege in Scotland but it would be brilliant. Anyway we had to go round the long way but popping out onto the ridge is just great, Ardnamurchan opens up in front, and Mull beyond. We must have lain around the top for over an hour, a few folk came and went, but not too many. The views were incredible, quite surreal in fact. Rum and Skye looked great, and we looked north to the bays where we planned to camp. We were looking right down onto the wee bay on Muck where Michael and I camped on the Wayfarer, and over to the entrance to Loch Moidart where I camped with the kayak. Ben Nevis was clear enough in the distance.

It was very difficult to leave, but the thought of a beer and a meal made it easier and down we went to the café/bar/shop/community hall at the pier. Had a really good meal, and a couple of excellent pints of Guinness, best enjoyed outside while the boat took the last of the tourists away.

The walk across the island was great, we only met about two folk the whole way; it all felt just like an island should. Singing Sands bay had one tent already when we got there but nobody was home, so we walked on up the far end and pitched there. Have to say this bay has a serious litter problem, nothing to do with the good folks on Eigg, but it’s just unlucky in being angle to catch all the rubbish that blows up from the south. We put that out our minds as we watched the sunset over Rum.

Next day the sun was up again, and the tide was out, so we had a cracking walk over the sand (which didn’t sing much) and around the headland to Laig Bay. Found the big concretions which are downright weird, and took tons of photos. Got jealous of some cool cottages around here as we went back up to the round and then the tent. The clouds had been building up a bit and finally turned to rain so we tucked in and played cards and stuff and kipped for the afternoon and a bit of the evening.

The morning was a bit clammy and misty, but nothing too unpleasant as we walked back over. Showers at the hall were fantastic. The café bloke was insistent he couldn’t serve a full breakfast, although he was offering rolls with egg, (spelt eigg haha) sausage, black pudding or bacon. Quite why he couldn’t put all those on a plate was unfathomable but a couple of bacon roll went down just fine. The Shearwater arrived bang on time and the sail round to Rum was easy, we looked out for eagles a lot, but no joy.

Arriving in Kinloch, and if you ignore the hills for a minute, everything is dominated by the castle, you just can’t miss it. There’s also a quirky mix of old and new buildings, but overall there’s a very calm feeling about the place. We found the little camping area clean and dry, and complete with kitchen sink. Tent was up in no time, the day was fairing up nicely, and we went off to explore the village. The wee shop at the community place is a laugh, sells everything and nothing, and because I was paying by card (having forgotten to bring enough cash to see us through, I had to buy extra drink to see us through. We took a walk up the glen and around the forest and generally enjoyed the sunshine. Still no eagles.

We cooked our curry in the “bus shelter” at the campsite, and then went round to the castle for that evening’s lecture by Mike the reserve warden, which was very good, and a useful intro to the island. There was a big team of students in from Edinburgh Uni doing environmenty stuff; they all seemed to be enjoying it. Weather looked a bit changeable.

Next morning we set off early for the Rum Cuillin, assuming we were trying to beat the weather; there was cloud around and it was hard to work out what might happen. What happened was that the day just kept getting better, the wind eased, the sun shone and the whole coast opened up around us. This gave us a bit of a dilemma, had we known it was going to be this good we would have planned for the whole Cuillin ridge, with an overnight at Dibidil. Doing the whole ridge and back would be a hell of a slog in a day, while going for the two Corbetts, Askival and Ainshaval was achievable, but would mean three long climbs as we’d need to reascend the first one. The decision was easy, why spoil the day? We enjoyed the narrowing ridge up to Askival, with its Shearwater burrows, and decided that was enough for the day. It meant we had all the time in the world to laze around on the summit, munching grub and drinking in the views, really quite incredible – from Mull in the south, Outer Hebrides west, Skye north, Eigg and then mainland, mostly Knoydart to the east. Texted Ian MacF to tell him we were looking at Coll.

A Tornado zipped overhead, we were very jealous.

The walk down was a delight, the whole day we only met one other bloke, and saw maybe two others on the far ridge.

For an evening treat we had tea in the hostel, not bad grub, but some excellent company. Met three retired gents who had been everywhere, enjoyed everything, and had stories about it all. Planning for tomorrow, we decided it was obviously weather dependant, but we had to be packed and ready for the boat at 1545.

By the morning the weather had changed completely, cloud everywhere and a cold wind, so we wrapped up well and trekked across the island to the mausoleum at Harris Bay. It’s the most incongruous building I’ve ever come across, with huge granite “coffins” and pillars. No disrespect to Lady Bullough, but we cooked up some tomato soup in the lee of her headstone before the long trek back.

The weather continued to worsen and it was raining and blowing hard by the time we got back to the tent, with plenty time to spare, so we holed up inside to while away the time, planning a really quick bomb burst nearer the time. A fatally flawed plan!

We duly left it to the last minute to haul the tent down, stuff everything away and head off into the rain for the ferry at the pier. Which left ten minutes early without us. After some stamping of feet and gnashing of teeth we went round to the hostel and threw ourselves at their mercy. A room and showers were made available, booked in for dinner and breakfast, and suddenly everything was fine again, apart from everyone asking “I thought you were heading off today”. The hostel bloke explained that the ferry quite often has to leave a bit early if the sea is getting worse, so there’s a lesson learned. Good dinner with our new pals, who had had a rubbish day attempting the ridge and failing, likewise breakfast. Plus the sun came back out, although the wind was still cold. Joined the Eagle Walk with Mike the Ranger, which was good fun although we did leave it till we were nearly back at Kinloch before spotting the obligatory eagle (golden).

We then did a clever thing which was to get the Calmac ferry which went round to Canna before coming back to Rum and then Mallaig, so a free cruise to Canna with great views to Rum coast and Skye Cuillin, plus always another island ticked. We met a couple who only had four Munros to compleat, and a bloke who had just finished the Corbetts on Rum, think it was him we saw on the ridge. Canna looked interesting for another day perhaps.

A fish supper in Mallaig was much needed, and the train back down to Arisaig for the car was delightful. It’s always a wee bit frustrating to have to drive home when the weather’s lovely, but at least it made for a great end to a great trip with everything visible for miles around, and quite a bit more snow on the Ben than at the start of the week. All in all a brilliant trip, well worth the wait, and we still have excuses to go back to finish the Cuillin Ridge.

Monte Cinto - Corsica's highest; 8878ft.

This trip was a neat little escape in the middle of a 2010 beach holiday based in Calvi. Myself and Sarah retraced some of the route Rebecca and I covered on the GR20 two years ago, to take in the highest point on Corsica. We had an early morning start with  white knuckle taxi ride from Calvi to the Auberge de la Foret at Bonifatu, cost 40 euros but simple and quick (very). A long walk up a good path takes you to this bridge...

And another hour or so up the hill takes you to the refuge at Carozzo, cold beers available!

There's then a really long tab on the route of the GR20, Lots of rumbly thunder nearby but didn't come to rain and didn't really bother us. Over the ridge and back down to Haut Asco, which looks a bit tacky (like all (minor)ski resorts out of season) but its deceptive.  The auberge is really friendly and they do a seriously big walker's special - five course for about 15 euros, can't beat it. There's a refuge but it was busy, cos on the GR20 so glad we were camping. Next morning fairly early start, this is the view up the glen to Monte Cinto.

And back down. Hot work!

We really should have started even earlier, started getting a bit cloudy, and feared a repeat of yesterday's thunder, thought about chucking it but decided to push on to the ridge and then review. Right decision...

You tend to forget how big european hills can be, its 1284m from Haut Asco to the top, but worth it. Passed quite a few folk coming back down but got the summit to ourselves. Handsome, huh?

Fairly big snow patches, nothing scary. The whole route goes through pretty spectacular rock and waterfall scenery all the way. Monte Cinto is the remains of the volcano which produced the rock which makes up much of what's now the high ground. Mostly porphyritic granite, and although it doesn't particularly show up in these shots, the change from green to pink to purple in 1000ft bands is pretty dramatic.

La Tour Penchee, its a lot bigger than it looks in this shot.

Back to the bar for beers x many, and another five courser, shared table with a Danish couple who were doing the GR. Perfect English of course so conversation easy. Nice folk.

Next morning, tent down, and an hour's walk down the road took us below the first campsite, and sure enough within about ten mins a German couple stopped and gave us a lift. Really nice folk! Corsica really is the biz for lifts. Took us all the way to Ponte Leccia where you join the railway line. Once again perfect English, very fond of Corsica, travelled the world, all except Scotland - "afraid of the weather" apparently...

As ever the train was broken so we had to get an air-conditioned coach halfway, but as ever, it dropped us at the first working station and remainder of journey at half the speed on the hot and rattly train. Quite bonny though as it follows the coast most of the way, and all part of the experience.

Back to Calvi -  beach, beers, showers, and England crashing out of world cup! If Carlsberg did holidays...