Day 47: On Mountains and Midges

I’m retracing my path of yesterday towards Lochinver, along the single track roads up in the mountains. The Munroe mountains are said to be the highest in Scotland. Today with the lowering clouds you can’t see the peaks.

And although the weather is wet it’s still beautiful here.

At Scourie I met a new friend. 

I call him Boris and his mate Trump. Don’t know why – it just came to me. 

Most of this area is a designated National Geo Park – an area of considerable scientific and geological interest and you only have to look at the rock formations along the way to get an idea why. 

 

The National body responsible for looking after the area are brilliant at creating parking spaces all along the route where you can stop, look at the landscape and read the information boards telling you about the glaciers and the formation of the country. With no towns, no shops and little visible agriculture, this part of Scotland is all about the outdoors: biking, cycling, walking, (sometimes both)

-nature watching and camping.

This camper was under an enormous road bridge over the river Assynt. 

On the subject of camping, the Dutch caravan club was also on annual manoeuvres this morning. I counted a convey of 32 cars pulling caravans and the odd Camper van thrown in for variety, heading towards Lochinver. I understand they come over every year. The mountains must be a major draw to the Dutch. They have barely anything even remotely resembling a hill let alone mountains of such majesty as these. 

I passed by several very small hamlets and the very photogenic ruined Ardvreck castle. 

All of a sudden as I crested a hill, there was Ullapool laid out straight in front of me looking as if it was floating on Loch Broom. 

Ullapool is really nice and very white, virtually everywhere is painted white including the Indian take away. 

The owner of a lovely Gallery told me it was because in the past all the houses were painted with lime wash to preserve them from the salt. Now the old part of the town is a conservation area so the white painting is set in stone so to speak. 

There is a large modern Ferry terminal on the harbour because the ferry sails to the isle of Lewis. as well as smaller boats taking day trippers round the Summer Isles. 

Sounds so lovely but here is the reality of Scottish summer today. 

I was expecting it to be a bigger town but it is small with lots of galleries and gift shops and of course the inevitable fish and chips.

Very nice and freshly caught, but expensive. 

Like everywhere else on the coast of Britain there is a long history of fishing here.  In the 1970’s Ullapool became the base for many eastern European factory ships known as the Klondykers, who processed the mackerel that small bought caught and transported them back to their home bases. 

 

They are no longer part of Ullapool’s economy, but I saw Spanish fishing vessels in the harbour loading crates and crates of their catch directly into Spanish refrigerated lorries ready to return to Spain. Why? The cold water. Seafood is very popular in Europe and these waters produce the best lobster, crab and langoustines anywhere and are in very high demand. I don’t know quite how that works – European fishermen fishing off these waters and sending the catch out of the country -  but I suppose since no-one is rioting, it must work somehow.

The other large European presence in town today were the French 2 CV club. Apparently they often come to Scotland. 

The town was full of tourists today and some of the cafes were struggling to serve people. This is what the woman in Lochinver was implying when she said these towns don’t really have the infrastructure to deal with sudden influxes of visitors. Particularly when they are so irregular that they can’t be foreseen. There is almost no-one in the winter.

This is Polly Hoad. Polly doesn’t do white. She does unlimited colour. 

Her little shop is every hue imaginable. 

Polly has had a very interesting life so far. She was a light house keepers wife bringing up her family in very remote places. She studied art and textiles as a young woman, hence her love of colour. And every winter she shuts her home and her shop and travels the world looking for lovely things to bring back. She has recently commissioned a range of leather handbags which she designed. 

She had an accident a while ago and that left her with an element of brain damage, a useless hand and partial sight loss but that does not deter her from her travelling alone to places like India or Peru for her crafting. 

Polly weaves. 

This year as soon as her feet touched down at Inverness she made the decision to leave Scotland for Portugal where she plans to open a weaving studio teaching just four students at a time – in the warm sun. 

So her house in Ullapool and her business is up for sale and she is willing to act as mentor and buyer for the new owners if they want her to, for a period of two years from the sale. Sounds like a plan. 

If anyone out there is interested get in touch with her on: 01854 612439 or polly@ucolour.co.uk

When Scots on the East Coast heard I was continuing my travels by going along the top and down the west they told me that the West might have the beauty but it also had the midges. I see what they mean. In the damp they are out in force, clouds of tiny biting flies, so small you can hardly see them, nibbling away at any exposed part. The locals use a spray called Smidge. Boots don’t sell it. Tesco does. I will get some tomorrow first thing.