The Last Ditch

Journey's End

1,600 miles later, Vittoria and I are back in the North of England. Normal blogging service will return soon (after a long-anticipated family party, which I am hosting tonight). In the meantime, here are a few pictures of the trip (click to enlarge).

L-R: Vittoria in the Assynt, the Scottish Crannog Centre, my silhouette on the loading ramp of the Islay Ferry, the mash house at the Bruichladdich distillery on Islay, David our guide at the Laphroaig Distillery shows the size of the peat that got away, Laphroaig's wonderful seaside location, a short stout, flat-bottomed Laphroaig still with its upward-sloping lyne arm in the act of producing my favourite tipple, Jonathan Livingstone (showing my age again) over Bowmore Harbour (where the Harbour Inn produces a very decent lunch) and finally New Lanark, which I visited on the run South.

 

 

 

 

Islay

Yesterday, I spent hours navigating single track roads to get to the CalMac terminal at Kennacraig to catch the last ferry of the day to Islay. After some nervous moments watching lorries bounce up and down the boarding ramps I gingerly embarked Vittoria without grounding as I feared. One fellow passenger was a young man about the age I was when the sight of a Ferrari Dino made it essential for me to make a real effort in life. His enthusiasm reminded me of that day. I hope Vittoria inspires him to aspire as that Dino did me.

She has inspired words of admiration wherever we have been so far. Every male service station cashier, every male hotel employee has admonished me "enjoy your car" I am not one to respond well to the imperative voice, but I fully intend to comply.

The roads on Islay are built on the peat that flavours the local whiskies and in consequence rise and fall alarmingly. Given Vittoria's low ground clearance, and the locals' better knowledge of their terrain, I was cautious enough to have the humiliation of being overtaken by a landrover towing a trailer. I must finally be growing up, because I saw the joke. I hope the local farmer enjoyed telling the tale.

After a superb late dinner, I tore myself away from the live music in the Port Charlotte Hotel so as not to keep up mine host at the B&B where I was to lay my head. He was genial enough about my late arrival to offer a "dram" as a nightcap, over which we exchanged as much data as men will in such circumstances. Now, well rested and well breakfasted, I am off to tour the distilleries of Bruichladdich and Laphroaig, with lunch in the cafe at Ardbeg in between. This programme will not be much affected by the fine, soft rain that is making Scotland look like herself, rather than the strange sunny paradise of recent days. Slainte!

Another superb day

It is not normally my destiny, gentle reader, to comment on what a superb gift life is. I focus too much, perhaps, on the perfidies of our "leaders." To hell with them all, I say. Life is good. Scotland always makes me a better, kinder man (let us charitably turn away from the question of why She has no such effect on her natives).

Today we journeyed, nay glided, from Lochinver to Blairgowrie. I stopped at Kenmore to visit a reconstruction of a "Scottish Crannog". Of course it was no such thing. Crannogs were built by my ancestors, the Celts, before the Scots ever arrived. Like the Scots, I arrived late. Unlike them I made a financial contribution (to thank the team for their kindness in rearranging things so I could take the tour despite my tardiness). I loved it. I then headed to my somewhat snooty hotel (good, but not as good as it thinks) and had an unequivocally excellent meal accompanied by two superb wines.

Yes, dear dear reader, life is good. And tomorrow, Islay.

From Lochinver

At last, an hotel with internet access. Free wifi for guests in the lobby area, no less! Congratulations to the Inver Lodge Hotel for being the hippest hotel in the Highlands (although I am afraid it does give the impression - as do all Scottish interiors - that my granny was the designer). Perhaps the rugged beauty outside creates a need for contrasting banality indoors?

I won't bore my serious-minded readership with my adventures, save to say that Roger Thornhill's mention of Lochinver in comments to the previous thread inspired me to head over here today. The four-hour journey from the Trotternish Peninsula on Skye (where I read his comment last night via iPhone) was amazing. The coastal road through Wester Ross provided ample opportunity for Vittoria (pictured here on a Highland road) to show her awesome mettle as I sang along to "Little Deuce Coupe" on the on-board jukebox.

Then I drove many slower miles on single track roads with occasional passing places. At some points I had to slow to a crawl as I passed  between carrosserie-threatening stone walls on one side and rough rocks on the other. Glorious variety.  I stopped for a rest and a drink of diet Irn-Bru (an innovation since my last trip?); gazed out over magnificent landscape and pondered why the Scots are such a plague in Westminster when they could stay home and enjoy all this. I had a wonderful day.

Scotland is as beautiful as I remember from my last trip five years ago, but looks rather more prosperous. Everywhere that should be is neatly clipped; the inhabitants -even in supposedly poor highland areas- look rather better dressed than I remember. It's nice to know that the proceeds of Gordon Brown's rieving of the English Treasury have at least been put to good use.

Still the abiding impressions are of the gentle courtesy of the Highlanders (not one of whom has failed to compliment Vittoria) and the glorious natural beauty of their home. Even Gordon Brown (God rot him) can't taint my pleasure in that. Here are some more photos for anyone who is still interested (L-R: The Commando Memorial at Spean Bridge, Dunvegan Castle on Skye, a view of Skye over Vittoria's dashboard and Flodigarry Island from my hotel window last night).

I don't think I have ever been in Scotland so long without visiting a distillery. Perhaps tomorrow...

Light blogging alert

I am currently en route to England to pick up Vittoria from the dealer in Manchester. I shall be driving her to Scotland tomorrow for a "get to know you" tour of Highland roads. I have no hotels booked (except for the first night in Fort William - email tom.paine@mac.com if you are in those parts and fancy a whisky tomorrow night). Otherwise, in an escape from a life regimented by Microsoft Outlook, I shall just make things up as I go along. Sadly, there is no guarantee of internet access (other than, perhaps, via my iPhone) in Highland & Island accommodation.

If I can keep you informed of our progress, I shall. But propose to forget our tyrannous government for a week and focus on life's pleasures. I hope to rediscover the nice (if rather naive) young chap I was before Labour's assault on our liberties made me so embittered. If a mere car can achieve that (with the assistance of Scotland's natural beauty) then she will be well worthy of her portentous name.

+rant mode OFF+

Light blogging

I shall be hors de combat for a day or so as I am travelling to Shanghai on business. The next post should be my first from a communist country (apart from Scotland of course). Sorry Bill.

New Author

After three years of heavy lifting, with only an occasional guest post here at the Last Ditch, an old friend of mine has expressed an interest in becoming a contributor. He's a newcomer to blogging, but he is a witty and convivial chap and I think it will suit him. I am looking forward to his posts and I am sure you will enjoy them.

He is a Scot, travelling for business, but based in Edinburgh. Only time will tell if  his contributions will jeopardise my membership of the Witanagemot Club.

In any event, I am sure he will help counteract the damage done to Caledonia's reputation by her most infamous blogger.

Blogging milestone

Link: The Last Ditch.

My last post was my 600th since the Last Ditch moved over to Typepad in September of 2006. I racked up 525 posts on the original version of the blog, starting with the first one on March 15, 2005. It has been a long haul and at times I have lost heart, but almost three years on, it seems the pace of posting is still picking up.

My wife used to find it hard to cope with my anger at Britain's feckless politicians. Now I get it off my chest here, and smile as she rages. She has cause to thank my little band of readers. I would encourage anyone to start their own blog, if only for its therapeutic value. Maybe very few people will read what you write. Maybe you will become Britain's Matt Drudge. Either way, it's better to light a candle than curse the darkness.

It took me a long time to understand that blogging is above all a social medium. The best thing it has done for me is to introduce me to other blogs that brighten my day and, sometimes, give me hope for the future. The Last Ditch started as a virtual soap box, but has become a way to "pay my dues" for the benefits I get from the rest of the blogosphere.

As my third bloggiversary approaches, I am as glad as ever that I began.

And the winner is...

Thanks to all who voted in my poll. It's good of you to take an interest. The result is not as clear as in the Presidential elections in Russia, but we have a winner and although I didn't vote for it myself, on reflection, I agree with your choice. I was going to call her Speranza (hope), but Vittoria (victory) seems a name of good omen.

(Click on the pictures to enlarge)

The polls close on Sunday at noon

This (click on graph to enlarge) is the current state of play on my car naming poll. My thanks to all readers who have voted. Follow this link to do so if you haven't voted yet. I will publish the results (and announce my decision) on Sunday afternoon.

If you want to know what the fuss is about, this film may help...