West Highland Way Day 2.
Distance today: 23.4 miles.
Total distance: 297 miles.
Accommodation: hostel.
It was as if today had looked at yesterday and said “You call that a climb? You call that rain?”. Yes, this morning I was treated to a continuous uphill stretch for 5 miles whilst being bombarded by heavy rain, pummeled by a headwind, and disconnected from the rest of the world by a thick fog. A fine start to the day. To borrow the words of Maximus Decimus Meridius, “are you not entertained?”. No.
Part of the climb takes in the section known as the Devil’s Staircase. Basically it’s quite a steep track that zigzags its way up the mountain. All things considered, it wasn’t as hard as I expected. (maybe I do have some match fitness hidden away). Probably trickier was plotting a dry path through all the flooded areas. It was around this time that I had one of my more surreal moments of the trip. Here I was, doing my best impression of the intrepid explorer – albeit a grumpy one – battling the elements, waterproof clothing about to admit defeat, pushing forward regardless of personal cost, all in the selfless quest for Queen and country, etc. etc. Coming the other way meanwhile was a woman dressed in shorts and tee shirt, running as if she didn’t have a care in the world. A picture of serenity. How is that possible? There’s someone who’s match fit.
By the afternoon the weather had picked up with the rain limited to an occasional shower. The sky was still a bit waterlogged but visibility was good enough to appreciate the scale of all the mountains in the Glencoe area. More magisterial beauty. In a strange way the landscape reminded me of the Tengger caldera in Indonesia. Mountains instead of volcanos but with the same sense of walking across a big plateau surrounded by looming giants.
Arrived at the Bridge of Orchy at around 5.30. Once I’d taken the obligatory photo of the admittedly fine specimen of a bridge, I went in search of my accommodation. Not for me the luxury of the Bridge of Orchy Hotel at £221 a night but instead the slightly more humble West Highland Way Sleeper (at £35 for the night). As hostels go, the sleeper definitely gets points for its quirky location. Essentially they had re-purposed the old railway station, the bizarre thing being that trains still stopped there. Excellent transport links, as an estate agent might say. I don’t think I am being harsh if I said that the hostel could probably do with a bit of love. It was fine but just looked like nothing had changed or been fixed for a while. Charming but disorganized. To be fair, I think the woman who ran the place had not so long ago lost her husband. What it did have, just outside the dorm, was one of those springy Ikea armchairs. I cant tell you how comfortable that felt after a long day’s walk.
I might not be staying at the Bridge of Orchy Hotel but I was happy to make use of their bar. As well as having a pint, I finally got to tick haggis, neeps, and tatties off my list. And very tasty it was too.
