#lochaline

Back in Ardtornish last week, when the smoke died down from so many people passing through Achranich House, we ate in the kitchen instead of the dining room.  With Carol Eagle Cooks on the job, we ate well which ever room we were in.

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Carol-Eagles-Cooks/252623714906407

Although the flambe monk fish was the work of the White Witch.

The sweet onion quiche was a delciously combined effort.

But once all that creativity was eaten, there was time for a different kind.

Granny S became a beloved addition round the table.  She is 81 and has lived in Lochaline for the majority of her life.  She is an inspiration and a great comfort to think that I could still be whizzing about the region in 30 years, enjoying the craic.  And we had been eating out of her garden for a good chunk of the week - courgettes, the flower heads and the rhubarb.

An artistic chain of events began to link around the table.  The White Witch stared at Granny S........

in order to draw her.  But she mainly stared at Angus, on the other side of her from Spook. She declared him to be very handsome and with a quick squeeze of his knee established that it was very firm.

Carol who Cooks said that she had been on a creative writing and drawing course run by The White Witch and Elaine The Labyrinth. She had learnt to draw a subject by looking only at the subject and never at the paper - and never letting the pencil leave the paper.  You start at the top, and just move the pencil around according to what you see. So she stared at me......

One of these is me, but I'm not sure which.  

And Anne stared at me and everyone else.......

Hers got better and better - remember, no looking at the paper or lifting of the pen off the paper.

I stared at Anne.......

and Jude The Obscure.....

And Jude the Obscure stared at us all with a look of horror on her face as she hid her paper with another bit to stop her from looking and was way out of her comfort zone......

Cooky Carol and her stripy jumper.

Me wearing my swimsuit - because you never know when the urge to take another wild swim might hit (I really was wearing it at the dinner table) and the Mary Quant eyelashes which I always wear in my heart.

When Granny S looked around the table, she didn't know what on earth had got into us with all the staring.  And she wasn't sure if Jude The Obscure had that look on her face because she, Granny, had been squeezing her husbands knee.  But Jude reassured her that she could take him home as long as she brought him back in the morning as Jude needed a lift back to Aberdeenshire and he was the driver. 

Art was never far from Anne Murray's mind and finger tips as explored the area with a fine tooth comb and her artists eye, and recorded some her favourite bits.  This time she did look at the paper. This is her memento of the week.

http://www.deveron-arts.com/murray-williams/  Anne works on many art projects in the north-east, in particular around the Huntly area and is currently working on designing a Harris Tweed for the town.

The whole Morvern Peninsula is a place of inspiration.

Jan took this photo of the escarpment that drops to the Sound of Mull.  She said it reminded her of the Tarzan movies.  Spook ran along the top of the waterfalls and said it reminded him of The Pirates of the Caribbean.  I ran the 4 miles out to the escarpments and wanted to explore above and below but remembered that if I didn't turn back now, I might not make it.

I'm not exactly sure what my old pal and I were on at this point, but we felt 19 again, and that is how we intend to behave.  Thanks to her for a great week in a beautiful place, with an amazing bunch of people. 

Finally home, with a laptop that thinks it's still in Ardtornish and, having refused to reliably connect to anything strong enough to upload photos and post a blog, it insists that it is devoted to the wifi there and wont let me connect in my own house.  After much jumping up and down, vacuuming, hanging washing and other distractions, I have managed to get photo's from my laptop to my daughters laptop.

This technicality wouldn't deter me from spending lots of time on the Morvern peninsula again.  It was a such a busy and sociable week that I barely scraped the surface of the flora, fauna, geology,walks, cycles, runs, swims, history and boat trips,  It's a beautiful and diverse part of Lochaber.

  No matter which direction you go in, there is something vastly different to see.  Waterfalls dropping of cliff escarpments, the wide open Sound of Mull, with it's ferries and traffic, vast bowls of waving grasslands and little lochs, nooks and crannies, a sand mine, a lost village, a sea loch you might never have heard of - it goes on and on and you don't need to share it with lot's of people.  Although, it has to be said, I did share Achranich House on Ardtornish Estate with about 28 people as they came and went over the week.  I managed 2 runs - one to the start of the escarpments and waterfalls, and the other to Leacraithnaich.Bothy looking over a small loch and a vast landscape that included the shadowy wall of Glensanda peeking over a hillside in the distance.  I did 1 hour of yoga all told, ate delcious food all week and talked endlessly.

Well, it wasn't all talking.

And dreams do come true in that I had hoped the White Witch would give snorkelling a shot.  Sometimes it is good to be reminded that not everyone wants to do the same things as I do (now) and that it is insensitive to push the matter.  Carol Eagles picked a lovely bunch of rhubarb from Granny S's garden and told her she was off to make a crumble, when she found herself, rhubarb still in hand, squeezing into a wetsuit.  Encased, choking and quaking from a fear of drowning (she did relinquish the rhubarb for health and safety reasons) she managed to get her face in the water, but just as she thought she was getting the hang of it she got tangled in the seaweed, darted a look too much to the side, got water in her tube, spluttered, flipped on her back, and clung to a rock trying to look as much like a mermaid and as little like a walrus as she could manage, while her flippers waved around in the air as she tried to get a grip with her rubbery butt cheeks.  

And all the while, the White Witch floated around on her belly, staring at the life under the water in a state of utter calm -her young pup, Finlay, following along behind.  It was a pleasure to see him so quiet and still after his murderous bout of Mackerel fishing.  All he was missing was a spear.

 Ms Eagles could not wait to get back to her rhubarb and once she did get off her rock and back on dry land, we all benefited greatly by the end of the evening.

The young pup showed he could be productive with flames as well as a fishing rod, so that Carol and The Floating Witch didn't have to do ALL the work.

On our way back to the ferry, I asked Spook if he would take me to the remains of the 17th century village which was uncovered when the forest was cleared.  

The village is worth the walk, tucked away through woodland - the walk itself, adding to the poignancy.