Highland Line

Scotland, in the spring of 1969: touring the land of my paternal forebears before settling down to a job in London, I visited a number of hitherto unknown relatives, and set out to see the Highlands. Before I'd left school I'd read most of Buchan's and Maurice Walsh's scottish stories, and acquainted myself with Sir Walter Scott. One had a romantic vision of the highlands and islands, and the lovely Border country of Buchan and Scott .

In those days the buses and ferries of Macbrayne's were an institution in Scotland, in their distinctive red and green livery. They carried residents to market, tourists by the thousand, and carried the Royal Mails to outlying areas. I took a Macbraynes coach from Oban to Inverness, through the Great Glen, passing the massive bulk of Ben Nevis and had my first glimpse of Loch Ness. The conductress sat knitting and talking to people going up shopping, hopping out now and then to collect or deliver post to rural homes and post-boxes. At Fort Augustus the bus stopped to deliver mails, so I stepped down to stretch my legs and took the photo above. It seems to epitomize my first experience of Scotland. An Edinburgh relative told me of a little ditty popular in the Highlands:

The earth belongs to the Lord,
And all that it contains;
except the Western Highlands
For that belongs to Macbraynes.

Sunset view of the Sound of Jura from near Tarbert.