Clanking off the not-the-Ballachulish-Ferry and up the slipway on a diamond-bright late winters morning is a wonderful experience. The colours are strong and hard, from the bright blue of the water to the deep greens and browns of the snow-capped mountainsides. The light is razor-sharp and the air icy and cold. It feels almost unbelievably clean.

My ultimate destination lies many miles to the west, and is in fact the most westerly point on the mainland of Great Britain. From the ferry it is a mere 45 miles to my goal. Cast all normal notions of time away though – the road is narrow, and its snakery will deceive any map-reader trying to judge a journey time. There is a time-difference here more pronounced than any that a transatlantic flight could produce. Here, time just feels different.

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A Walk Through The Woods

December 13th, 2017

May 15th, 2015

December 13^th, 2017

May 15^th, 2015