I decide to be sensible and go down the other side of the bealach, cross the river and walk along it until it meets a footpath and the original route. The descent is quite pleasant as there is no bracken here, it is less steep, and I sing Scottish folk songs and “Climb Ev’ry Mountain” from the film “The Sound of Music”. I find the river which is disappointingly easy to cross, no boots have to be taken off, and I follow the river until I find the sneaky pony which was mentioned in another walker’s report.
|
|
Abandoned house
|
|
|
Sneaky pony
|
|
|
Foxgloves
|
I arrive back at the campsite after a seven hours’ walk and find a water tap behind the bothy. Since no one is around I strip some of my clothes off and do some basic cleaning to get rid off sweat, sun screen, and midge repellant in absence of a shower. I put on my glad rags for Tommy, and five minutes later a horde of about 20 teenage boys arrive at the camp site and pitch their tents.
I hurry to get away from too much uncontrolled testosterone and make my way to the village hall. I find Tommy there, selling me a ticket, and my campsite neighbours, a middle aged couple who sailed their friend’s boat from Assynt in the north down to Knoydart. She is an author of historic novels about bears and quite an interesting person. He doesn’t say much. Ian McEwan hangs around, waiting for his reading to start. He talks about the conception of his new novella which will be published in autumn, and then he reads a bit. There are questions and answers, and then people disperse, and I have some chips in the pub. I go back for the party, where The Scott Wood Band are playing. They play rocky party folk music with bagpipes and fiddle, and are quite fun and quite loud (
click). There is also a raffle, and the winner gets a bunch of books, a cd, and whisky which she passes around and has everyone take a sip from the bottle. There is some ceilidh dancing, and I find myself dancing in a group with Ian McEwan. Unfortunately, since most people here know the dances, there are no instructions, and I get spat out of the dancing crowd after only a couple of repetitions of the dance routine. Ian McEwan is doing slightly better than me - he is struggling but he knows how to stay in the game.
I go outside to cool down and rest my old ears. I have a chat with Tommy who tells me about how he built the compost toilet on the campsite and that the next time I take a shite I should read the articles, which are tacked to the walls of the toilet stall, and which are about the construction and how compost toilets work. He also tells me a bit about his life, and that he lives in a three bedroom house on Knoydart which he finds a bit excessive, and he also asks me casually whether I have to work on Monday. I might imagine it, but it almost sounds as if he wants me to visit him at home. But I do have to work on Monday. Too bad.
Comments