June 28, 1991: Bridge of Orchy to Kingshouse Hotel
Loch Tulla
There was a huge mob stuffing toast down their throats when we descended for our own breakfast on Friday morning. Gavan had to ask a hurtling waitress for some more orange juice – all of the sideboard pitchers having been drained by the other guests. In the foyer there were sandwiches for sale in a display case; we chose two ham sarnies and paid for these when I settled up a few minutes later. We left the hotel at 9:00, but not before I had returned one last time to the launderette with the alien socks we had picked up the previous evening. There was some sun in a cloudy sky when we crossed the Bridge of Orchy itself and began a very easy twelve-mile day.
Gavan said that the girl walkers (who obviously had the hots for us) had just started up the trail ahead of us. He was much amused when I broke into a Groucho Marx trot in mock pursuit. Once again there was an initial ascent to a ridgeline through a forestry plantation. This was not at all difficult and we were soon in open moorland. At Mam Carraigh, where the route reaches its summit, we ascended a little cairned hilltop to have the best view possible of the outstanding scene: distant mountains with snow still visible near the summits, forestry plantations on the hillsides, Loch Tulla a blue expanse below us, and the impressive buildings of Black Mount immediately across the lake. We sat here for a while and then began our decent down to a little motor road that served the Inveroran Hotel.
The pub was not open this early in the morning but we had hardly worked up a thirst. We continued along the road, dodging the occasional car, as it turned north and headed for the Victoria Bridge. Here too we had a rest on the riverbank, and a small snack. The walking was so easy today that there was no need for haste.
We crossed the bridge and passed the ornate tracery of Forest Lodge and continued north on a hard surfaced track that provided fast but foot-punishing walking. There was a real sense of alpine wilderness in these surroundings; other walkers – having made much earlier starts – were well ahead of us today. I used this portion of the trip to talk about existentialism, since Gavan had been quizzing me on this subject for some time. The trailside lecture slowed us down even more, since I often paused to think what to say next or to answer a question. Once we climbed into a little heathery hollow to have a rest away from the cool breeze. Gavan was always colder that I was on this trip; even today I was wearing only a t-shirt.
At about the spot where the old military road joined our route we began a brief descent to the River Ba. The Ba Bridge, where we paused for some time, was marvelously situated over a rocky passage in the river, with charming views up to the mountains on one side and down to watery stretches of Rannoch Moor on the other. Gavan had a brief snooze.
Far off in the distance, next to a small plantation, we can already see the Kingshouse Hotel.
Then we began climbing again, passing the ruins of Ba Cottage, and reaching another small col west of Beinn Chaorach. We could now see ahead of us all of the rest of our route – even the Kingshouse Hotel in a small grove of trees off the A82. It was only 3:00. The day, sunny, breezy, and clear, was so magical that neither of us wanted to arrive at our destination too early. Therefore we sat down in the just blooming heather and finished our lunch while I completed my examination of the wisdom of Chairman Sartre. By this time Gavan was sure that he was an existentialist and I was not so sure. We were yakking so intently that another walker, coming up from the hotel, asked us if everything was all right.
At about 4:00 we started off again, descending to Black Rock Cottage and getting a good glimpse into the chair lifts of the local ski operations. The dramatic bulk of Buachalle Etive Mor, with its steep eroded gullies, was now looming on our left. This monolithic mountain dominated the scene. It was also our view from the window of our room at the Kingshouse Hotel, which we reached at 4:55.
The Kinsghouse Hotel. I used a version of this photo
as an illustration in A Walker’s Alphabet.
Undoubtedly this isolated hotel was the nicest of all the places we stayed at on this trip. We even had our own bathroom for the first time. Gavan took a bath and I followed with a shower. I might have taken a bath too but the yellow water, also in evidence at Bridge of Orchy, put me off. In a neighboring room an unhappy German Shepherd, whom I was warned not to pet, whined unhappily.
We went down to the bar and had some drinks. I finally wrote some postcards. We ordered from the bar menu shortly before 7:00, staring with Scotch broth. Gavan had a sorry-looking lasagna but I did better with a chicken curry. We had ice cream for dessert; the disorganized bar staff never charged us for the dessert, though we offered to pay twice. After a quiet period in our room we returned to the bar and concluded the evening with two more cigars and some Famous Grouse.
To continue with the next stage of our walk you need: