Blackfold to Inverness

Over on the left, there, is Alistair, to whom we are indebted for his outstanding hosting skills. He was gracious, delightful and especially efficient, which is a lot, when on top of that, he is a dead ringer for George Clooney's twin brother. On the right are Emily and Crystal + parents (from Arizona), with whom we had a nice chat at breakfast:




Before setting out for Inverness, we visited the castle. We arranged to get there first thing, edging out, by a hair, a couple of busloads of tourists. Why does this matter? It matters because the best bit of visiting Urquart is being able to climb the tower stairs, a narrow, winding staircase, which does not allow for passing.

Not the tower, but a small section of the wall:




Room (but which room, who knows) with a view:




The original McDonalds:




After the castle, back to the trail, and an especially beautiful nine-ish miles. (Twenty one turns into twenty two before you know it.)

What do we have here? Like jets lined up on a runway, waiting for take-off, so do boats line up to enter the lock. OK, so it is not exactly the same. In the case of the boats, several can enter the lock at once. Then the swing bridge opens, a gate comes down, the lights flash, pedestrians and cars wait until the crafts are through.




Loch Ness



must not be confused with the River Ness:




You see, it is from The River that Nessie emerges:





One last precious sight



before the official end:



Almost three weeks of walking in perfect weather just about every day, one grand B and B after another (minus one), a few excursions, some touristy--nothing wrong with that--some not, and delicious food (really). A day in Inverness, a half day in Glasgow, and then home.

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