Going with the flow

We left Eilean Fhianain with a brisk easterly breeze at our backs - one of the reasons we'd chosen this particular trip was the predominantly easterly wind which was forecast - it would either be at our backs or we'd be sheltered on the west coast.

A last look back towards the mountains of Loch Shiel.......

...and then steadily onwards along the stretch of water which isn't quite Loch Shiel and isn't yet ruly the River Shiel.  Shallow water lined with salt marsh, this is a great place for waterfowl and waders to feed and to rest.

Talking of feeding and resting.....

....we landed near the jetty at Acharacle in order to check out the options for first luncheon.  Acharacle (Torquil's ford) is named for a Norse leader who was killed here along with all his men in a battle with Somerled, Lord of the Isles in 1120.  Torquil's men found the water too deep to cross and they were killed making a last stand near this spot.

We walked up the small road which leads from the wooden jetty to the village shops......where we had a choice of eating in at the Acharacle Tearoom or purchasing lunch to eat outside the Bakery. 

As we were in our paddling clothes - and it was anyway such a nice morning - we chose to eat outside the Bakery.  The coffee and Foccaccia bread are particularly recommended by your reviewers!

Acharacle is a handy stop in this area, it has a couple of options for food, a shop, and public toilets with a tap outside for topping up water.

Fuelled up and rested, we got back on the water, our boats being drawn along by the now noticeable current towards the fine triple arched road bridge over the River Shiel, built in 1935.  The footings of the bridge supports were clear of the water which certainly hadn't been the case on our winter trip, and the river flow was markedly less too.

Shortly after the road bridge the river narrows quickly and swings into a rocky gorge.  At the end, the old bridge crosses the river at the point of a ninety degree left bend.  Built by Thomas Telford in 1804, it was too narrow to carry motor vehicles and was replaced as a road bridge by the 1935 version.  You can walk from the road to this bridge and cross it, but the south side is private property.

Beneath the bridge is a small rapid where the water runs over a rocky shelf - with more water in the river it can prove exciting, but as the level was quite low it was little more than a quickening of the flow.

The rapid marks the end of the narrow section, the water slows and the river becomes wide and shallow.  A wooded hill makes a lovely backdrop to a very relaxing section of the trip where we were able to just go with the flow in the literal sense.

If making this journey when the water level is relatively high, it's good to know that there are a couple of potential egress points to allow a portage around the tidal fall where the river empties into the sea.  The first is at a gauging station marked by wires crossing above the water - we used this during our winter trip when the river was quite full.

The second point is a small patch of flat grass jutting out into the river, which Douglas, Lorna and I used to land and carry our boats up to the track alongside the water; Mike found a spot further down again, but after that there's just one option immediately above the falls - miss it and you're committed....

We put the boats on the trolleys we carried specifically for this section and portaged along the estate track through woods of beech and pine - despite pulling the boats this was a very pleasant section.  Once again the trolleys (three KCS Expedition models and one Lomo model) proved their worth and performed faultlessly.

A short detour to view the tidal fall is well worth the effort - if only to assess whether you feel it could have been paddled.  The drop from river to sea is the result of isostatic rebound, the continued rising of the land in this part of Scotland following the release of ice from the last ice age.  The fall itself is affected by two things; the amount of water in the river and the height of tide - in simple terms, when the tide is low the river has further to drop.  On neither occasion we've been here have we felt the slightest inclination to run the fall in fully laden sea kayaks......

This is the fall in comparatively low river levels but also a low tide.......

.....and this is the fall on our winter trip with more water in the river but a higher tide. 

Immediately beyond the point where the river ends, we arrived at the shore of Loch Moidart.  We carried our boats down over a patch of saltmarsh to place them, for the first time on this journey, into salt water.

Stones, bones and clear tones on the island of Finan the Leper

We were up and about early at our camp on the shore of Loch Shiel, the cool air of post dawn a reminder that the season was turning.  It was cool rather than cold though and there was no sense of needing to get moving to warm up.

 The morning sun was beginning to rise above the hills on the east shore of the loch as we finished packing, though our beach remained in deep shade. 

 By the time we were about ready the morning clouds were beginning to burn off....

 ....and it looked set to be a fine autumn day. 

 After a short distance we came to the narrow twist which marks the end of Loch Shiel proper, and a distinct change in scenery.  We'd been journeying through rugged and wild mountain scenery, ahead lay lower ground with wider views towards the sea.  The narrow bend as the loch finds its way from the mountains is almost blocked by a small island - the terminal moraine of the glacier which ground out Loch Shiel.

Eilean Fhianain (Finan's Island) may be small and unspectacular from a distance, but it has a wealth of interest and history and there was no way we were going to pass by without exploring a little of it.  Finan was an early Celtic saint who is believed to have lived from around 520 to 600AD.  Details of his life are uncertain but he seems to have followed Columba from Ireland and became Abbot of a small monastery on the island now named after him.  He is believed to have evangelised much of Argyllshire, but considering that his name crops up all over Scotland - as well as the obvious Glenfinnan and Kilfinnan, there is a St Finzean's Fair in Perth and a Finzean as far away as Aberdeenshire, he must have travelled extensively

Known as "Finan the Leper" from the disease which afflicted him, he seems to have favoured small islands on lochs; he is also recorded as the founder of at Inisfallen on Lough Leane in Ireland's County Kerry.  Finan died, it is thought, at Clonmore in his native Ireland.

 We'd visited Eilean Fhianain on our winter trip in 2014 and found it to be a gem of a place.  That visit had been made in brilliant sunshine, this one in quite different lighting, but the place still had an air of peace.  We passed the gravestones which appear very old but in fact are probably 18th century......

 ....and stopped to admire the cross commemorating Rev Charles McDonald, priest of the diocese of Argyll and the Isles.  I hadn't noticed on our previous visit, but many of the trees on the island are Rowans, the tree of protection. 

 The sides of the column bear fine sculptures in the distinctive Celtic style, and there's a clear difference between the weathering on the western side of the cross which faces the prevailing weather.....

 ....and those on the more sheltered eastern face, these tail-chasing beasts and intertwined snakes are still in sharp relief. 

Note: Our friend Leif  has pointed out that the bodies of the snakes seem to form the letters "V" and "M" - it would be fascinating to know whether this was deliberate or a coincidence of pattern; and if deliberate what the letters represent.

 The ruined chapel near to the highest point of the island has an intact altar slab, behind which a very old stone cross occupies the niche, and a wooden boat-shaped object upon which small offerings of coins had been left.  A rummage in our pockets produced some coins to add to the amount.

But it is the bell which captures the imagination -  seamlessly cast in bronze, it has lain here for almost eleven centuries.  It takes a moment for that to sink in....produced in the 10th century, it has survived all the long tumult of history intact.  Nowadays secured by a small chain, one can clearly see the marks on the altar slab where the bell has rested.

Not only is the bell still intact, it remains fully functional -  Douglas' video of it being rung catches the clear tone.

 If St Finan's bell is the jewel of the island, nature has provided a few of her own.  It's amazing how often the walls of ruined churches are studded with the blue flowers of Ivy-leaved Toadflax (Cymbalaria muralis), here growing intertwined with a fern.

We continued over the island from the ruined chapel and Lorna found a remarkable grave-slab half concealed below the grass.   We cleared the grass a little to find......

 ...a very definite image of mortality carved in stone.  It seems that our predecessors were altogether less reticent about portraying death in this way - it's a fascinating grave if a little startling to the modern eye.

 As we made our way back to the boats we passed a much more recent grave, well tended and laid with flowers, backed with a bush fired with intense autumn colour.

This small island had proved well worth a second exploration - and on future visits we'll stop here again without doubt.

We got back on the water as a breeze sprang up, clearing the cloud quickly.  The mountains lay behind us, and ahead lay a river and the sea.....

A roaring fire on the shore of Loch Shiel

Moidart's Loch Shiel is a wild place with steep slopes falling to the straight to the water- a typical glacial form.  Native deciduous woods of Oak, Rowan, Birch, Alder, Aspen and Holly clothe the lower slopes on the western shore.  The eastern shore has dense conifer forests in the upper part of the loch and mixed woodland farther down.  We kept to the western side and enjoyed warm sunshine and rich autumnal colours as we made our way down the loch.

 Passing Glenaladale, the view extended through very clear air to the hills at the head of the glen.  It was near here that Douglas, Mike and I had camped on our late winter trip in 2014.  That had been a particularly cold evening and we all added camp chairs to our kit afterward - there's a lot to be said for getting one's beam end off the ground when winter camping!

We were passed by the Glenaladale estate launch near the mouth of the river as it set out to cross the loch carrying the estate stalkers.  October is the end of the Stag stalking season and a time for estates to realise much of their annual income from guided stalking.

Looking up, we caught sight of the distinctive shape of a Golden Eagle circling in a thermal above a patch of sunlit hillside.  Douglas caught a nice image of the bird as we watched it rise effortlessly, circling coil over coil until it crossed the summit of the hill.  We could clearly see the up-tilt of the wings and the tail "feeling" the air as the eagle soared.  For all the power and impressive size of a White Tailed Eagle, the grace and mastery of a Goldie in flight is a better spectacle, I think.  In all likelihood it was searching for the "gralloch" - the intestines and stomach of the deer which had been shot.  The carcasses are usually brought from the hill but the gralloch is left.

All afternoon there had been an almost stroboscopic effect as bright sunshine alternated with fast moving clouds and one such cloud bank obscured the sun as we approached the tiny Eileanan Comhlach (possibly Islands of the Council or Meeting-place, small islands were often used as neutral meeting points in places where friction existed between neighbouring clans as any attempt at ambush was limited). 

The lighting we experienced in this spot on our winter trip had been quite different; on that day the islands had appeared to float on the water in the exceptionally calm conditions. Today couldn't match those conditions....

...but as we watched, a gap in the clouds allowed the sun to light up the island - it seemed to glow against the darker background.

One possibility for our evening camp had been a bay on the western shore of Loch Shiel, but last time we'd passed there had been cattle grazing there.  We discussed the options and decided to head for a bay on the eastern shore.  Although we'd not previously been there we felt we'd find some suitable spot to pitch our tents.  Crossing the loch gave a long sight-line back up towards Glenfinnan from where we'd set out some hours previously.

The wind began to drop in the late afternoon and we slowed down to enjoy the colours of the trees, the sun warm on our backs.

With the breeze now gone, the sounds of rutting Red Deer stags became more noticeable; an atmospheric and wonderful autumn sound.  Despite the fact that evening was rapidly approaching we felt no need to rush and stopped frequently just to absorb the wonderful light and sound show all around - it was a great evening to be out on the water.

We reached the bay we'd seen on the map with an hour or so of daylight remaining.  We found the only difficulty in finding a camping spot was choosing between a number of possible options!  Decision made, we pulled the boats a little way out of the water (no tide here, though the level of the loch can change a bit) and pitched our tents. One of the advantages of  camping in October is that there are no midges - a still evening in July or August on this spot would be a much less comfortable experience!  Prior to dinner we spread out to collect firewood, which we added to some of the logs we'd stowed in our boats........

....to make a small but hot fire, around which we gathered to cook our dinner.

As we intended to be out on this trip for just two nights there was space in our boats for plenty of food options.  Dinner on this evening consisted of an aperitif (a beer or glass of wine according to preference), a main course of home-made venison casserole, then potatoes baked in the embers of the fire and served with butter and salt, followed a little later by a dessert of pears, poached in brandy and served with clotted cream.

Sat around our fire, we listened to the stags roaring from the hillsides above us and from across the loch - a roaring fire in one sense.  We enjoyed the warmth of the fire long into the evening before retiring to our tents as the temperature dropped.  I slept deeply, waking just once when a stag bellowed from the opposite shore.

Long luncheon, long view

 It didn't take too long for us to settle into a natural paddling rhythm; we don't tend to paddle fast unless there's a really good reason to do so such as a tidal imperative.  Besides, with the views we were enjoying, why would we rush?  To our right, rocky ridges sharply down to the loch from the Corbett of Beinn Odhar Bheag (little dun-coloured hill).

The neighbouring hill to this fine Corbett is Beinn Odhar Mhor (big dun-coloured hill), which is actually lower than the main summit and not a Corbett.  The apparently illogical order of names is due to the fact that "Mhor" is a much bulkier and more prominent hill, and hills were named from their appearance to those who lived below them rather than their summit height.

 To our left a series of lower but very rugged hills lined the loch, punctuated by steep glens containing fast running burns which could be clearly heard across a kilometre of water.  There was little wind, though it wasn't as utterly still as the last time we paddled here in quite exceptional conditions.

It was by now early afternoon; and we'd all had an early start.  First luncheon was most definitely overdue and as luck would have it, a perfect spot was close at hand......

 A small beach with a long view ahead down the loch, built-in furniture on which to sit and a fine Caledonian Pine for scenic effect - really, this was too good to pass.  We took a leisurely luncheon, giving us time to relax into the trip and absorb the surroundings.  From the hillside across the loch a stag was roaring, the sound echoing over the water.  Mid October is just about the peak of the Red Deer rut and the sounds of competing stags would be a feature of the trip.

 We set off after lunch and having made those small adjustments to packing of the boat which always seem to need doing in the first day of a trip.  Keeping close to the west shore of the loch took us into the shadow of the hills but gave the opportunity to see the best of the natural woods along the shore.

 Astern of us, a long view was developing as we continued down the upper part of Loch Shiel.......

 

...and it was a scene that rewarded frequent glances over our shoulders to admire the play of sun and shadow on the mountains as Glenfinnan receded into the distance.  With long views ahead and astern, we really felt that our journey was underway.

Convergence point on Loch Shiel

Convergence point: the point of converging, a meeting place, the meeting point of two converging lines, the point at which two sight lines meet on a distant object
 

A spell of relatively settled weather in mid October 2016 found four of us making for Glenfinnan at the head of Loch Shiel. Douglas and Mike travelled from the south west, Lorna and I travelled from the north east of the country - our point of convergence was to be the Glenfinnan House Hotel, where we'd arranged to leave a car for a modest parking fee.  We'd also been given permission to launch from the hotel, which greatly simplified setting out.

You will be able to follow our trip in "Seakayak Stereovision" by reading Douglas' account starting here.

 Mike and Douglas arrived first, and while Lorna and I packed our boats they ran the shuttle down to Glenuig.  Our plan was to repeat a trip that Douglas, Mike and I had enjoyed in March 2015; paddling the length of freshwater Loch Shiel and then the River Shiel to salt water Loch Moidart and on to Glenuig.  The distance by road between Glenfinnan and Glenuig is relatively short; our route would be much longer and we planned to spend two nights camping en route.  Our boats were laden with goodies and each had a kayak trolley strapped to the rear deck for the portage we'd need to make around the exit of the river.

Allan and Lorna had been keen to do this trip; and Mike, Douglas and I were very keen to experience it in what we hoped would be great autumnal colours.  Unfortunately Allan was unwell and wasn't able to join us - which means we have it on our list for a future adventure with him!

We set out on an overcast morning, but with a forecast of two fine days prior to the arrival of a deep Atlantic low pressure system.  The cloudy sky had the effect of enriching the browns and yellows of fallen leaves through which we rustled our way to the shoreline.  Our launching point was beneath a large Horse Chestnut (Aesculus hippocastanum) tree, with fallen "conkers" scattered below it.

We hoped to enjoy the best of the autumn colours; both Loch Shiel and the river are lined with deciduous woods for much of the way.  Our late winter trip in 2015 had taken place well before the leaves were on the trees, so this would be a contrast.  Beech trees along the shore were in various stages of colour set off by the dark green of conifers on the hillside - a good start we thought.....

By contrast the south east shore is bare in the upper part, with steep mountain slopes dropping directly to the shore of the narrow loch.  We weren't complaining; the view was grand and we were off on another adventure!

We found ourselves moving out to the centre of the loch and lining up with the convergence point of the ridges on either side - a subconscious process and exactly the same as we'd previously experienced here.  With views ahead down many kilometres of paddling, it was a good place to be.

Aberlemno Pictish stones

Between Brechin and Forfar in the north east of Scotland is the small village of Aberlemno. Once on the main road through the area, the village is now quiet but is the setting for some remarkable Pictish sculptured stones.

Parking is available at the village hall, adjacent to three of the stones which stand at the roadside.  One is an unshaped and highly eroded sandstone boulder which bears faint traces of a curving symbol.  Nearby is a much more imposing stone.

The cross slab known as "Aberlemno 3" is the latest of the roadside group and probably dates to around the 8th century AD.  These later stones are termed "Class 2" to denote their finer, more detailed carving.  Standing 2.8 metres high and a metre wide, it simply towers above the road.  The face of the stone bears a cross, two angels and animal figures.....

...while the reverse has more typically Pictish carvings.  The Crescent and V-rod, and the double disc and Z-rod are recurring themes of Pictish art - and while there are many theories their meaning remains elusive.

Below the symbols is a hunting scene with mounted hunters, deer and hounds, trumpeters and a man with a spear and shield.  The lowest section carries biblical images including a lion.

This mix of Christian and Pictish symbolism is common on later Pictish stones, there seems to have been a flourishing of art in the time following the conversion of the Picts to Christianity.

A little way down the road is the oldest of this group of stones, dating from around 500AD and of the "Class 1" group of early, more simply carved stones. A leaning, unshaped boulder, it's carved with a mix of symbols including a serpent, double disc and Z-rod and another recurring theme, the mirror and comb.  The rear of this stone bears prehistoric cup-and-ring marks and it's believed that it may be a standing stone re-used by the Picts - it had probably stood in the landscape for many centuries before the Picts carved their own symbols on it.

If Aberlemno had only these three stones by the roadside, it would be very well worth visiting - but nearby there's another stone which is of huge importance.

Aberlemno Church sits below the road in a sheltered spot.  The churchyard has a number of interesting gravestones, but there really is no doubt why most visitors search out this place.

The cross-slab in front of the kirk is one of the most impressive of all Pictish stones.  Believed to date from the late 8th to 9th centuries AD, it is a huge monolith of Old Red Sandstone.  Even after the passage of over 11 centuries, the carving is stunningly beautiful and intricate.  The workmanship involved in making this carving from a single boulder really does dispel any notion that the Picts were a primitive or uncultured people. That they left absolutely nothing in the way of written records through the 800 or so years that they were were the major power in the north of Scotland is, in a sense, irrelevant; the legacy they left in stone has endured.

The vertical arms of the cross bear three different knotwork designs, the horizontal arms have keywork designs.  Either side of the cross are intertwined animals and mythical beasts.  At some point a hole has been bored through the stone - it's thought that this was done in order to move or to re-position it in some way.

This stone is 2 metres high, 1.3 metres wide and about 30cm thick and is one of the finest of all surviving Pictish stones.  It's known to archaeologists as "Aberlemno 2" but more commonly as the "Dunnichen Stone".  For, despite the magnificence of the west-facing cross it is the other face which elevates the Dunnichen Stone in importance.

The eastern side, facing the kirk, is carved with the only battle narrative to be found in the Pictish stone record. The sculpture on this face can't match the intricacy of the cross, it's the story it tells which makes this sandstone slab especially important.

The Picts held most of northern Scotland and the Northern Isles, and had done for several centuries since the Romans withdrew - their lands marched with the Britons of Alt Clut (which later became known as the kingdom of Strathclyde) and with Dalriada - separated from both by the high ground of Druim Alban, the spine of the country.

In the 7th century they came under pressure from relative newcomers to the British Isles; the Angles of Northumbria.  A huge power struggle in what would become England between the Northumbrians and Mercians had been won, and now the Northumbrians looked north.  After invading the lands south of the Highland boundary, they ventured still further north and inflicted a defeat on a Pictish army in 672, capturing large areas of Pictish territory.

The Picts reorganised, and under their king Brude reasserted themselves.  The Northumbrian King Ecgrith, marched north again in 685- against the advice of his council and of his trusted advisor St Cuthbert.  The Pictish army allowed the Northumbrians to advance beyond the Forth and the Tay, to a site close to a body of water where they turned and attacked.

The Dunnichen stone is believed to tell the story of this battle.  Some historians dispute the interpretation, pointing out that the stone was carved a hundred years after the battle.  Dunnichen was, however, a truly pivotal point in history and the most significant battle the Picts had fought since a Pictish army was destroyed by the Agricola's legions in AD84 at Mons Graupius - it seems entirely plausible that this stone should commemorate such an important event.

A replica of the east face of the Dunnichen Stone has been placed in the Aberlemno Village Hall car park - in a photograph it's easier to make out the detail on this.

A surprising amount is known about the battle of Dunnichen; not from the Picts themselves but from contemporary chroniclers, most of them Northumbrian Angles including the monk-scholar Bede.

The fighting took place at around three o'clock in the afternoon of Saturday 20th May 685.  The Northumbrians called the place "Nechtansmere" (Nechtan's Lake - Nechtan is a common Pictish name), others knew it as Dunnichen (Dun Nechtain - Nechtan's fort) and the Britons called it Linn Garan (Heron's Pool).  Intriguingly, if the theory that the Pictish language was a P-Celtic (related to Welsh rather than Gaelic) is correct, "Linn Garan" is what the Picts themselves may have called the place.

The result was utterly decisive - the Northumbrian Angles weren't just defeated, they were destroyed.  Ecgfrith and all his bodyguard were killed having fought to the last man; almost the entire Northumbrian army was killed during or after the battle.

The narrative on the stone starts at the top with Picthish symbols - the notched rectangle, Z-rod and triple disc.  Below, the story is told in three "registers" somewhat like a cartoon strip.

The Picts appear on the left hand side of each register and are shown fighting both on foot and on horseback.  They wear no helmets and have long straight hair - perhaps this appearance might hint at the meaning behind the combs and mirrors in Pictish symbology?  They carry distinctive curved shields with prominent bosses and are shown using swords and spears.  The more one looks at the  figures, the more detail seems to come forward.

Pictish horses look to be small and nimble ponies with long tails - the Picts ride without saddles or stirrups and use a saddle cloth on their horses.

In contrast, the Northumbrians wear helmets with long noseguards and ride heavier, thickset horses with broad necks and cropped tails.  They are all shown on horseback - at least initially.

The sculptor clearly knew about battles and tactics - the Pictish infantry in the middle register are shown in battle formation; the leading rank armed with shield and sword to withstand the shock of a charge and stab out from behind the shield.  The middle rank have spears which would have projected beyond the front rank in a hedge of spearpoints while the rear rank stands with spear upright, ready to step forward.

Working down the registers, the story of the battle emerges.  In the top row an Northumbrian is seen fleeing the field on a Pictish horse, his sword and his round shield cast aside - perhaps representing a headlong rout.

In the middle register a Northumbrian cavalry spearman attacks the ranks of Pictish infantry who stand in their battle formation to meet the charge.

In the bottom register, mounted warriors face each other, both spear-armed.  The Northumbrian figure readies himself to throw a spear while the Pictish figure raises his shield to parry the blow.  At bottom right is a dead Northumbrian, his shield lies beside him and a raven pecks at his throat.  As a battle tale - it's a clear representation of a Pictish victory.  Contemporary accounts say that Dunnichen was mainly a clash of foot-soldiers with limited cavalry, so perhaps the mounted figures on the stone represent Brude and Ecgfrith themselves.

Dunnichen proved a truly pivotal point in the story of the Picts.  Brude's victorious army stormed southwards across the Tay, killing or enslaving any Angles who they came across and recapturing their former lands. The Angles were driven back to the shores of the Forth and never again ventured north in any significant way.  In fact, it would be close to 500 years before the north of what had by that time become Scotland was invaded in force by the people who had become the English - when Edward I ("Longshanks") devastated the country.

Ecgfrith's body was identified and borne in honour from the battlefield by Pictish warriors.  In a remarkable and unprecedented act, Brude had his fallen foe interred on the holy island of St Columba, Iona.  No Anglian (English) king had been buried there previously and it was a powerful statement by the victorious Brude.  He was seen to act with honour to a fellow king, and also to be able to dictate the final resting place of his enemy.

Brude consolidated his hold on the Pictish lands, recovering Orkney and ruling all the Pictish kingdoms as one "Pictland".  He died peacefully in 693 - and was himself taken to Iona.  He was buried by Abbot Adomnan in a simple wooden coffin in the earth of the monastic graveyard which already held the bones of Ecgfrith; two mighty warlords reunited in death.

There is so much to the Pictish stones, to the story of this remarkable and fascinating people.  Aberlemno and its symbol stones, more than most, offer a glimpse of them.

Memories of 2016

The turn of a year is a time to look forward to the possibilities and challenges ahead, but also to reflect on the year past. I've once again been very fortunate in having enjoyed some superb days and nights in Scotland's great outdoors.  As in previous years, I couldn't select just one memory from 2016 - so here are four.... :o)

A multi-day trip to Iona and the Ross of Mull was blessed with the most tremendous quality of light - the combination of brilliant sunshine and blue sky set off the pink granite, white sands and aquamarine sea for which the area is known.

Gorgeous beaches, stunning primary colours, a rich history and one of the best possible sea kayaking locations.......

...... and have I mentioned the colours?!

We were to experience colour in a different palette on another multi-day trip, a kaleidoscope of warm autumn shades - this one I'm still to write up on the blog.  The trip included one of the most perfect evenings imaginable; our friend Lorna put all our thoughts into a single quiet phrase - "Just look around us........this is the best place in the world..."

In the interests of balance, I've been out in some truly elemental weather too - rain of impressive intensity on the Moray Firth and a trip on Kintyre with Douglas which had just about everything in terms of weather plus an adrenaline-inducing crossing.....


There have been good days on the hill too, although perhaps not as many as I'd have liked - something to correct in 2017.

At a shade over 500 metres high, it isn't the biggest hill, but quite an undertaking if you happen to be at Primary School!  A day climbing Bennachie in the company of 55 small hillwalkers was one of the most enjoyable days I've spent on any hill.


But, if pushed for the single trip which is a stand-out of 2016 it has to be the first multi-day trip of the year.....

Over four days Mike, Douglas and I paddled around and took our boats over the island of Jura.  Spectacularly wild coasts, fast tidal streams, bothy nights and brilliant weather; this trip was a long-held ambition and it totally exceeded the high hopes I had.

It also included one of the most striking landscapes anywhere in Britain - and one that few people even know about - just a remarkable trip.

A huge and heartfelt thank you to everyone with whom I've enjoyed the outdoors in 2016 - from struggles in tough conditions to nights around the fire - the experiences are all the better for sharing with friends - Slainte Mhath and a very happy New Year!