Sixth day – Kingshouse to Kinlochleven
This morning there was another attack of the dreaded midgies – this time the worst so far. I had ventured out to make some porridge, but no sooner had I done so than a swarm of literally thousands had gathered round the tent. As I kept moving around in an effort to avoid them, yet more kept appearing to replace all those which I had squashed dead every time I tried brushing them off my face or hands. They are simply unstoppable. Thankfully, there was soon a gentle breeze blowing. Their wee wings cannae cope with this and they are forced to retreat, awaiting a lull and their next victim.
On the map, today was actually the shortest day. All the same, it still took as long as yesterday, which was half as long a distance again. This was mostly due to the fact that there was quite a lot of climbing to be done – firstly, up the side of Glencoe along the frighteningly-named Devil’s Staircase. This steep pathway between Stob Mhic Mhartuin and Beinn Bheag (try pronouncing those) leads to the highest point on the West Highland Way, 564m (1850ft) above sea level. So, not exactly mountaineering, but enough to build up an appetite for lunch.
From here on, it was up and down between more hills, slowing descending towards the village of Kinlochleven. On the way, we passed the massive pipes which bring water from the Blackwater Reservoir high in the hills down to the hydro-electric power station in the village. This power station was originally built to supply energy for the now-closed aluminium smelter; they do however still make aluminium up the road in Fort William, presumably with the electricity generated here.
Now that this large source of employment has disappeared, Kinlochleven has a slightly bedraggled, despondent look about it. That is not to say that they are not taking steps to regenerate the area – there is now a huge ice climbing centre, brewery, and various other businesses on the site of the smelter. This is quite encouraging to see, since when I was growing up in the Highlands there seemed to precious little done when a similar factory also closed. Heavy industry in such a remote location is likely always going to struggle to survive.
Tonight we are staying in a “bunk house”, which does not quite live up to what I had expected. Maybe I read the website wrong, but I got the idea that we were getting our own wee stone cabin. In fact, it’s just a small room (admittedly with en-suite bathroom, which is an unbelievable luxury after camping), in a huge building which resembles more of a youth hostel.
We went for a wander around town (took about 5 minutes…) looking for somewhere to eat, and ended up in one of the village’s two pubs. It became apparent at one point that the people next to us were speaking Dutch, and the people on the other side of them as well. The interior of the bar was not so different from what is typical in the Netherlands, and I could almost have believed that I was back in Amsterdam. That was, of course, until you look out the window and see the mountainside rising up on the other side of the glen.
