The Road to Kinlochewe

Den is up twice in the dark

For the Aurora to make its mark

He gets locked out

Doesn’t scream or shout

But there’s no sign of a light or a spark 

I go to Nevis and back

To get my wheels on track

Then when my brake pads come

My heart beats like a drum

Just keep spinning - Eurovision attack!

Plockton is not to be passed

There’s a terrific view from the mast

Seafood’s exquisite 

So fresh and so delicate 

But when we see the bill we’re aghast.

Naming places can be quite simple

“Ploc” means bump or pimple

It feels just right

When seen from a height

While Loch Carron has hardly a ripple

The hills around here are sub-tropical  

Lots of vegetation that’s far from local

Then it’s back to gorse

And heather of course

Till we get to the coffee-cake hospital 

From Loch Carron the first climb is a riot

At the top, there’s a gorge right by it

At Kishorn we clock

Two oil-rigs at dock

Then Glen Shieldaig expansive and quiet.

By Loch Torridon in silent procession 

Scenic grandeur becomes an obsession 

The subtle pine linctus

And sweet eucalyptus 

Old friends in our gentle progression.

Gruinard Bay