Lochaber

We chose a singularly unfortunate weekend to spend a few days in Lochaber, one of the inland areas which was worst hit by Storm Amy. Not only were the trees badly mauled but so were the power cables. As a consequence, our hotel was freezing for the two days we were able to stand it - they couldn't even offer us a hot drink - so we left for home early. 

As always, we spent as much time as possible walking, though we had to confine our activities to lanes and tracks, not infrequently being passed by SSEN trucks scurrying around the countryside intent on mending the many fallen power cables.

Even in the most inclement weather, Lochaber is beautiful. It seems to be at its best when a storm has just passed and the first fleeting intervals of sun warm one's face. This view looks across fields which all seemed to be brilliant green to the three peaks of the Grey Corries.

Life there is somehow different, though very similar to Ardnamurchan. This picture features a post box which stands proudly in the middle of nowhere but, like all British post boxes, its mail is collected on six days of the week - at 9am on weekdays and 7am on Saturdays.

Each time I leave Lochaber I feel a deep regret. It's not that I know the place well - that was the privilege I enjoyed by living over twenty years on Ardnamurchan - it's more that its fierceness appeals to me. It takes people of character to thrive in remote communities like this, and I am proud that, on more than one occasion in my life, we lived in similarly remote places.