Day Eleven

11^th May 2009     SCOTLAND

67,000 miles per hour

Doris, Stephen, and I are back at the table in the ticket office by seven thirty, coffees and teas in hand and with the smell of a fried breakfast in the making… Helen lets me know that I am good for breakfast. What I should say is ‘No, no its fine… you fed me last night and gave me a bed… thank you so much but I’m ok’… but instead what I say is “Really… Thank you so much”. We are told the two mountain men were up early… while we were still in the land of nod… like I say they were proper mountain men. After breakfast we again sit a little longer outside on the station platform enjoying the morning sun and the talk of the day ahead… there is not a cloud in sky. I could have sat on that bench all morning… Stephen pushes himself up “I think there is no train coming… I think it is time we start walking”. We take our mugs back to the ticket office; we say our thank yous and goodbyes to Steve and Helen. The three of us pick up our backs, shake hands, wish each other the best and start to walk in opposite directions.

Today started as good as any day can… a mug of tea… good company… a full breakfast under my belt and plenty of sunshine heading my way. All the walking today is low level… no real height to be gained and on my back, I still have the sandwiches, biscuits, and fruit the Rev. D. Davidson had given to me yesterday, all I need now is Mister Bluebird on my shoulder … the only downside… the bag on my back is heavier… with nothing but blue skies above I will need to carry my jumper and waterproof top… hey, I’m joking... after the last few days a little bit of blue sky is great. The aim today is to reach the northern shores of Loch Lomond.

I am back on the ‘Old Military Road’ these roads were built in the first half of the 1700’s, in many ways they were an extension of the Roman roads found further south, built well over a thousand years previously… the purpose was the same, to connect the forts and barracks, in order to move soldiers around quickly to where they were needed… (the Romans confronting the Picts and later the Caledonian tribes and a thousand plus years later the Government troops facing up to the Jacobite rebellion)… The few people I pass this morning gladly no longer carry swords and wear helmets, instead they have walking sticks in hand and silly hats on top… let’s hope it stays that way for another thousand years and more.

The glen broadens out, the railway line that I have been following turns to the left and does a huge half loop around the side of the mountains in order to maintain the same height… there are a couple of viaducts helping to keep the line at the proper height… the railway track when looking at a map pretty much becomes a physical contour line. Once the railway line has done its horseshoe detour it re-joins the old military road and together, they head into the small village of Tyndrum with me trailing behind. On the far side of the village there is a place called the Green Welly, it is both a shop and a café… hmm I wonder… with each pot of tea I am given I am again and again overwhelmed at the kindness of the people that I am meeting… they really don’t have to give me anything… at yet they do… and more… a cake, a biscuit, the time of day and above all a smile. Thank you.

The walk out of Tyndrum takes me past some old lead mines that are believed to go back to pretty much the same time the military roads were being constructed (the 1730’s). I walk along woodland trails, crossing over small streams, gaining a little height, breaking out of the woods and into open space… the air holds no haze… I cannot but stop, the mountains near and far are as clear as clear is… I turn around the woods are in full sunlight, a thousand different shades of green… The world is a beautiful place.

Yesterday I talked of the creation longing for the true sons and daughters of God to be revealed… I think in this day and age the whole of creation really does need the human race to step up to the mark… to stretch out a helping hand… after all it was people that put this world into the mess that it’s in now… but this longing for the sons and daughters was there long before the industrial revolution, a time when we were not wrecking the planet… maybe the earth needs us not just because we can help to put things right but because of who we are… I stand at the edge of this woodland looking across at the mountains in front of me, and I see beauty… if you take your dog for a walk on a beach as the sun is going down, the dog is happy running after a stick or chasing after its own tail. It is the dog walker (not Rex) that is captivated by the colours in the sky and the reflections in the ocean as the sun sinks behind the horizon… I live near Edinburgh, every year just out of town there is a huge agricultural event called the Highland Show… there must be a thousand stores selling everything from wellies to huge tractors and other machines that make the tractors look small… strawberries, cream, Clydesdale horses in all their glory and everything in between… it is an extraordinary show… a full weekend and you would still not see everything there is to see. Each year farmers, country folk and families travel from far and wide to experience this Highland Show… the logistics of putting on such an event year on year must be huge.

Imagine for a moment that nobody ever came… never… not even one person… the event would have no meaning… no purpose… and no value. Scale that idea up a little to encompass the world that we live on… maybe throw in a few billion stars … and then take away all the people…nobody there to watch a majestic sun rise… nobody seeing the beauty in a million different flowers… nobody sat at the dock of the bay watching the tide… nobody looking up at a night sky and wanting to know why… It is impossible for me to imagine such a world without a boy or a girl… a boy and a girl that understood beauty for what it was… a boy and a girl that would ask a thousand questions… and then ask a thousand more… a boy and a girl that understood the value of a smile… and with hearts that put others, and this world before themselves… Without people, the understanding of beauty, truth and love would be lost… without that boy and that girl our planet would be just another rock travelling around a star at 67,000 miles per hour… and nobody to care at all… What good is a beautiful house if it stands empty… does not a house long to be a home.

…sorry I get a little lost in thought sometimes… I hope that’s ok… a big part of this adventure was to do just that… kicking stones along a mountain track is a good place to think about stuff. I take an apple out of my bag and again start walking. The further south I head, I am aware of having to leave the bigger mountains behind me… the first day of this adventure (eleven days ago) I walked past two of the northern giants, Ben Hope and Ben Loyal… tomorrow I will walk in the shadow of Ben Lomond, the last of the giants when heading south… in a handful of days I will be walking through Glasgow… I am not really a city boy… I will miss the mountains and the glens…hmm I also need to start thinking about how it is I get to Northern Ireland with having no money in my pocket… I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it… Yeah I know… there is no bridge across the Irish sea… I know that.

My phone makes a beep… I get a text… I’m surprised… not many people have my number… I only use the phone at the end of each day to send out a small blog to let people know where it is I am… to let them know that I’m ok and to say a thank you to those that have helped me on my way. The text is from Arthur (the guy who drove up to the very top of Scotland on the first day of this walk) … Arthur tells me the inter-faith group we were both involved with, wants to know if it would be possible to meet up as I pass through Glasgow… they would book me into a hotel for the night and take me out for a meal. That sounds good, I text Arthur back and let him know I will look at the map at the end of the day and figure out a day and a place… I suddenly felt a little guilty… my first thought was not who from the group would come but how good it would be to soak in a hot bath for an hour… wretched man that I am…

… it will be good to see some familiar faces. Different faiths coming together has to be a good thing … better than the attitude of, you do what you do, and we will do what we do and let us stay out of each other’s way… to tolerate the other is not much different to building walls… to build a bridge takes a little more effort, but the rewards are far greater… what’s that phrase… to walk a mile in the shoes of another. The faith that we have (…or not have) is in big part determined by the country we were born in, by the culture that surrounds us, by our parents and the stories that we learn at home and at school… knowing this I think this is a good place to start when trying to understand others… We do not choose when in history, nor the country or the culture we are born into, nor do we choose our parents, we do not get to choose to be born as a boy or as a girl… these things are given… our responsibility, is how we bring these things together in order to lead a good life. Sit down with someone from a different faith (or culture) and we soon learn we have much in common… people know, to lead a good life is to live a life for the sake of others, another understanding we all share is the importance of family… once we understand what we have in common… we can learn to respect the differences between us… with understanding and respect in place… friendships are made… friendship changes everything… you see the person first, before you see their faith or culture… friends will also forgive you when your first thoughts were of a hot bath and not the sharing of a meal… at least I hope so!!

The West Highland Way keeps to higher ground as it skirts passed the village of Crianlarich to the east, and then gradually losing height, crossing the main road, and then the railway line, ending up alongside the river at the base of Glen Falloch. The main road, the railway line, the river, and the path that I’m walking on, are all heading in the same direction… just different modes of transport (be it car, train, boots or a canoe) I think the same can be said for the many different religions of the world… same direction… just different books.

Following the glen will bring me to the northern shores of Loch Lomond. I stop a moment and sit down and enjoy the last of the sandwiches and an apple that the Rev. Donald had given me, I refill my water bottle from a small bubbling stream, I again sit down, lean back and that is me down, hands behind my head, squinting my eyes looking up at a cloudless sky … ten minutes go by…probably closer to twenty, the sun on my face feels good. I Could easily call it a day… but had decided at the start of the day that I would reach Loch Lomond… I push myself off the ground and again getting started is a little slow. I look at the map and decide to aim for Beinglas Farm Campsite near Inverarnan… It takes about an hour and a half to reach the place. You can see by the buildings it was once a farm… farmhouse and barns have been turned into café, shop, and washrooms. I walk into the café… I meet a guy called John (I think he runs the place but I’m not sure) and again explain what it is I’m doing; he is more than happy for me to use the washrooms and find a quiet spot to rollout my sleeping bag… but first things first go sit down and I’ll bring out a pot of tea… “wow thank you John that sounds great”. I don’t think a day has gone by on this walk where I have not had a cup of tea… how good is that. 

After finishing the pot, I grab a wash and find a quiet place on the edge of the campsite, as I’m rolling out my sleeping mat a guy comes up to me a little surprised that I don’t have a tent, we get talking and he tells me if I keep heading south on the West Highland way for a little over an hour, no more than an hour an and half, I will come across Doune bothy… a far better place to stay the night (bothies are a basic place of shelter they are left unlocked… people passing by a bothy will many times leave a few cans of food, coffee, sugar, powdered milk, many bothies will have a fire place and firewood with pots and pans). The evening is still early…I re-pack my bag, thank the guy and again start walking. An hour and ten minutes later and there it is, a wee bothy sat to the side of the path, with smoke coming out of the chimney… I step inside, there’s a guy cooking what looks to be some kind of a stew. “just in time grab a plate from the cupboard… sorry don’t have any bread” … and that is how the day ended… sat on a rickety old chair, a plate of stew in hand… in a bothy next to Loch Lomond. Ray was the guy who cooked dinner… a good guy. After dinner I took the dishes down to the side of the loch to wash… crouched down by the water, I close my eyes for a moment… I don’t know why but I wanted to feel the planet moving through space at 67,000 mile per hour and to say thank you and sorry at the same time.