This was the last day of our walk. As the week went on, I was excited as each day drew to a close about being one day closer to the finish. Yet as I woke this morning, to the rather unnerving sound of horses galloping close by, I found myself reluctant to leave my sleeping bag and feeling slightly melancholic. However when my watch showed the time was half seven, I decided it was time to get up. I opened both zips on the tent as quietly as possible, trying not to disturb the other campers. I rather missed the solitude and privacy of wild camping, but at least this site had showers.
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| Morning, campers! |
Last night whilst washing and showering before bed, the hot water caused my nose to bleed. Now I know I have a fairly sensitive nose, but I think it's slightly abnormal for a nose to start bleeding just because you washed your face. It finally stopped before bed and this morning I gingerly washed my face again, checking for signs of blood. Fortunately there were none so deciding it must have been a one-off I packed our tent away for the last time, as that night we would be staying in a B&B, and we were off.
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| Floral Urquhart Castle |
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| And the real thing |
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I still had no way of lighting my stove I was relieved that a cafe was open in Drumnadrochit for breakfast. I ordered the most delicious vegetarian fry-up with Quorn sausage and devoured it sitting outside in the glorious sunshine with Sybil. In the cafe I noticed a bookshelf full of books and a notice above saying that the books were on sale for £1 each and all proceeds were to go to an animal charity. I bought a book by an author I liked (it's a shame I couldn't have carried more) and feeling happy, fed and charitable we turned right out of the village along the road. We had a slightly later than planned start at 10am but after roughly forty minutes of road slogging we finally turned into the woods where there were views of Urquhart Castle in the distance.
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| Urquhart Castle |
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| Through the forest |
Sybil spied another red squirrel in the trees and telling her to leave it we headed up through the cool, dense forest. The day was starting out to be really warm and I was glad of the shade provided by the conifers. The path was really steep in places as it zigzagged up through the trees. Perhaps the walk was finally taking its toll on me as the backpack seemed to weigh a ton, and indeed I had to have several rest stops after each steep climb. Sybil, bless her soul, kept checking to see how I was and every time I sat down, came and sat at the side of me. Towards the end of each day Sybil had also started feeling the miles, but today she seemed to have recovered and was happily tearing back and forth between me and the path in front.
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| Odd one out |
The long climb mostly over, we bumped into a total of eight walkers in a space of fifteen minutes. One group of them recognised us from the first day back near Gairlochy and we had a chat about how we had all fared. They had chosen a slightly different approach for the last day, by taking a taxi out and walking back to Drumnadrochit. I mentioned that one of my boot laces had snapped an hour or so ago, and two of them immediately offered me their spares. I told them thanks but I'd be fine, managing to tie it temporarily and thinking how nice people out walking were compared to the other tourists in Fort Augustus and, no doubt, Inverness.
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| Farewell, Loch Ness |
The forest gave way to moorland after giving us our last views of Loch Ness. We had the route to ourselves again as we passed through a large metal gate and into Abriachan Forest. I was ready for a rest and sat down on a conveniently-placed boulder at the side of a large pond. Looking at my watch I realised it was already half past twelve and we still had a huge amount of distance to cover. Today's walk was quoted in my guidebook as being eighteen miles long, but several people on the internet have said it is longer, more like twenty-two miles.
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| It's a long way to Inverness |
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| More mountains |
In fact we weren't even halfway, as a nearby signpost informed me. At least most of the climbing was done now and I started to pick up the pace a little. We past a sign declaring this was the highest point of the footpath; at first glance I thought the sign said "Can't get lost". I found myself wondering if the sign-makers were aware who was reading the sign, then I realised what it actually said. Better get my contact lenses checked.
I actually believe that back home my family and friends were placing bets all week on how long it would be before I did get lost. Getting lost is something that happens quite frequently to me, as those of you who read these blog posts regularly will know. Whoever placed their money on me getting lost on the first day to Gairlochy, you can collect your prize now. There was a slight "detour" just before pitching my tent that first night, but I soon put us right.
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| Abriachan Eco-Campsite and Cafe |
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| Most delicious snack-stop of the trip |
Fighting through some trees that had little idea about giving a walker some personal space, we stumbled upon several wooden signs guiding us to a cafe, each promising a different tasty refreshment. I think I would pass on the bovril and ovaltine, though. I leashed Sybil and followed the woodchip path to an eco-cafe with a wonderful host. I bought a hot chocolate and the lady came back with a huge mug of the delicious drink and some yummy homemade snacks on the side. Sybil took advantage of the break for a drink and a lay-down.
It had by now turned 2pm so we picked up the pace again and finally hit the road I believe the lady from the day before was telling us about. It was a quiet road, but long and harsh on the feet. The only vehicle we met during our road slog was a huge logging truck. On either side of the road was heather moorland, with good views over to the left of Ben Wyvis. I'm not sure if it was down to altitude, although we weren't that high, or something in the air but all of a sudden my nose began to bleed badly again. Luckily I had plenty of tissues with me and walked along for ages with my head tilted slightly back and my nose buried in tissue. It seemed it would never stop and I had visions of arriving in Inverness looking like a cheap extra for a walking dead film.
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| The road slog ends! |
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| Male reed bunting |
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| Not long now |
The road slog and nose bleed finally both began to cease as I noticed a left fork heading parallel to the road over more moorland and finally into forest again. We followed an old drovers' road through a mixture of trees including Scot's pine, rowan and birch. A couple of the conifer trees I passed looked as spiky as the gorse bushes that were also common on this walk. I went up to one and gently touched the needles, but surprisingly they were quite soft to the touch.
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| Bilberry bush in flower |
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| Beauly Firth: We are getting close now |
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I was really enjoying this part of the walk; the trees were quite thinly planted so plenty of light filtered through, yet there were enough trees to still give one the feeling of solitude I often feel when walking in a woodland. There was a delightful drystone wall to my right with moss and bilberry growing upon it. Making the most of the weather butterflies were fluttering all over the place, landing and feeding on the plants at the side of the path and chasing each other through the dappled sunshine. I recognised mainly small white butterflies and the occasional green-veined white.
Eventually through the trees to our left we caught a glimpse of the Beauly Firth. Excited that we were closing in on Inverness I looked at my watch and realised that we would not be at the B&B for 4pm, as I had told the owner. I called her and explained we were still a few miles away. She was fine with that and told us that once we finished the walk at the castle, if I visited the pub opposite and told them I had walked the Great Glen Way I would receive a certificate. I thanked her and we focused on finishing the last few miles. We left the wood through a gate and were directed down a path between yards and yards of gorgeous yellow gorse bushes.
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| A picturesque pond among the gorse |
Suddenly we turned a corner and there, to our right, was the wonderful sight of Inverness. I gave a huge whoop and start laughing with delight, much to Sybil's bemusement. We were so close now; there was no way we would not finish this walk. The sight of the city gave me the last push needed to ignore the blisters and burning pain in my feet and the weight of the backpack dragging me down. We followed the path through the gorse bushes, winding slowly down towards civilisation.
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| Inverness! |
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| A cheerful almost-end to the walk |
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| Only four miles to go! |
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People started to appear on this attractive stretch above the city; joggers out listening to their Ipods, couples out for a gentle stroll and children walking with their families. The weather was glorious, blue skies ahead with not a cloud to be seen. We saw another red squirrel in the trees shortly before leaving the gorse to hit asphalt as we reached the outskirts of Inverness. Crossing a busy road we threaded our way through suburban parks and footpaths, passing houses and ducking through a subway until we emerged by the familiar canal again. Eventually we found the River Ness, where we crossed a footbridge and headed for the B&B where I would drop my backpack off then finish the walk to the castle.
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| The River Ness |
As I expected here in the city it was every man for himself and, unlike ourselves, people seemed reluctant to give way or even to obey the signs and dismount from their bicycles whilst crossing the footbridges. Luckily I have trained Sybil out of lunging and barking at bikes as she did when she was an unsocialised young rescue dog, but we still didn't appreciate them rushing past us with no warning on a narrow bridge. I found myself wishing I was still up on the forest paths but didn't let it spoil the bubble of euphoria that was growing inside of me at having so nearly finished the walk.
We got a little lost whilst trying to find Cavell House but another quick phone call soon got us heading in the right direction and we were welcomed warmly and shown to our room with a four-poster bed and some dog biscuits set out ready for Sybil. After dumping most of my gear down, we set off for the castle before we could get too comfortable and spent some time taking end of walk photos and admiring the tame wild rabbits that hopped around the tourists' feet.
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| We did it! At Inverness Castle |
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| The sign for the end (or beginning) of the Great Glen Way |
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| Baby wild rabbit |
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| Mum wild rabbit |
The other tourists eventually drifted off to wherever they were staying for the night. I feel I attracted a few strange looks for my dishevelled hair, muddy trousers and grubby, sweat-stained face but I really didn't care. I had walked all the way from Fort William and that was a massive achievement for me. There were a couple of times on the trip when I thought I wouldn't make it and wanted nothing more than my own bed, but as the days went on I enjoyed being so close to nature and feeling part of an exclusive club, the Great Glen Wayers. Other people have walked for much longer distances and over much more difficult terrain but I'm sure the sense of achievement when you get to the end of wherever you are walking is much the same.
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| River Ness from the castle, and looking back towards the Great Glen |
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| River Ness in the city |
We limped across the road to the Castle Tavern where I bought a pint of Pepsi and asked about the certificate. Whilst I was waiting for it I had a chat with one of the staff about the walk, who had done it himself. I finished my drink outside with Sybil and we soon headed off back to our bed for the night. We both had one thing on our minds: sleep. And a nice long hot shower for me.
In the morning after my delicious breakfast of tattie scones with cheese and tomato we headed straight for the train station after a quick walk for Sybil. Although Inverness is an attractive city with its sandstone buildings and with the river running through its heart, I just couldn't warm to it. I don't know if it was because I was away from the generous walkers I had gotten used to or because the lack of green spaces for Sybil in the morning and evening before bed (we passed Whin Park on our way into the city, and a sign outside declared No Dogs), but I had little of the melancholy I felt the morning before back at Borlum Farm. I would miss the lochs and the forests, along with the satisfying solitude I had for most of the walk, but who knows? Perhaps this long distance walk will be one of many Sybil and I will complete in the future.
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| Tired at Inverness Castle |
