Wandering Through Scotland Part 2

Walking into Aberfeldy is a unique experience. You come down off the moors into the famous ‘Birks of Aberfeldy’. An area immortalised in the poetry of Robert Burns. Excerpts from this poem are dotted around this area which we stopped to read. This gorge houses dramatic waterfalls and thick, old growth woodland. Twisting beeches reach out across the drop below, defying gravity. Below them the soil is thick with wild garlic, the whole place smells of this lovely scent. We had set off at 7.30 that morning and we were fading so we sat on a bench and looked up the menu of a pub in Aberfeldy. The golden words of ‘sandwich and chips’ provided us with renewed energy. Further down, there was a statue of Burns sitting on a bench. It depicts him writing one of his famous verses about this enchanting place. I imagine that he had a handwritten copy of the menu to glance at if his spirits dropped. The Birks are a beautiful area of intact native woodland surrounding intermittent waterfalls and pools. It is not hard to see why Burns was so enamoured with the place.

Aberfeldy is known as the town at the centre of Scotland, as it is roughly equidistant east and west whilst being at the middle point of the north and south axis. It is in this way that the town has gathered an unusual reputation. Geographically, it is situated at the bend of the river Tay not far from the grand Loch Tay. Across the Tay is one of General Wade’s most famous bridges (the Tay Bridge) which was built in 1733. Wade built bridges and pathways across the Highlands to allow faster movement of troops to quell the warring Clans. He was an English General who had a fearsome reputation. Today, his legacy is one of a depopulated Highland landscape and an example of English colonisation of Celtic cultures. This bridge stands as an eerily beautiful monument to English repression of the wilder Highland peoples. It is strange to stand in a place where people have so readily welcomed us despite this divisive history. It is important for English people to understand our history and to see that our wealth and diversity is born from violence everywhere from Aberfeldy to Amritsar. Of course, Scottish people were active colonisers too. But here is an artefact to the English militarily targeting the Scottish Highland Clans. An action which contributed to the Highland Clearances and the ensuing eviction of smallholding tenants. Land became concentrated into fewer hands and the large estate owners abandoned mixed farming in favour of sheep and deer. The consequences of these events shaped Scotland as it is today. The Highlands are carved into vast estates, often owned by absent landowners. These estates often exist solely to produce deer and grouse to shoot and house innumerable sheep that eat every last branch that appears on these bare hillsides. The concentration of land ownership into a few hands has robbed rural communities of their connection to the landscape around them. Only recently is this trend beginning to shift. It is remarkable how a chain of events which began in the early 18th century still determines the fate of the hills around us.

Without walking we would never have known about this place. We also would not have the enormous appetite that allowed us to eat all of that food and be hungry again for a burger just hours later. In Aberfeldy there are three pubs: The Blackwatch, The Fountain and the Schiehallion. Upon our arrival, after chatting to an old local, we were told that all three have almost exactly the same menu so it really doesn’t matter which one you choose. We preferred the Blackwatch just because of the local characters. It was not a fancy pub, a slightly sticky floor being the ultimate indicator but the staff were very friendly. After laughing for a while we had long funny conversations with the older locals which mainly ended with them pointing out that we were just wee English pricks so of course we wouldn’t get it. We didn’t mind this at all, in fact it felt more like a backhanded compliment than anything else. There were all manner of thick Scottish accents around and it was entertaining to be surrounded by so many people again. We decided to stay the night in a B&B just across the road from the Blackwatch. The place was perfect for us and Bob, the owner, was very entertaining. It was a common theme across Scotland that the older locals were incredibly friendly to us and invariably had some useful advice for us. One of the guys used to walk to Pitlochry (our next destination) often and he told us of a nice route to take which would pass a large bluebell wood. The further north we went the more people seemed genuinely happy to see a few new faces. It often happened when we were flagging that we would bump into somebody who would recharge our enthusiasm with encouraging words for us. This did wonders for our morale.

From Aberfeldy our next stop was the town of Pitlochry. Our walk took us along the bank of the Tay winding upriver. The luscious river banks are covered in all manner of wildflowers from ragged robins to bluebells. It was really beautiful and very easy walking to begin with. Eventually we crossed the river at the affluent town of Grandtully. From here, it was a steep walk up the hill through forestry plantations until we reached the open hill at the top. Standing alone up this hill was a lovely old Scots Pine that provided us with a nice shady spot to sit and admire the view below us. It was quite a short walk to Pitlochry, probably only ten miles, but these few towns would be our last chances to sleep in a bed for a long while so we allowed ourselves the luxury of a slower day.

Pitlochry itself is a Victorian-era tourist town. It was bustling when we arrived as the Pitlochry Festival Theatre had a set of events on. Nearby to this theatre is the Pitlochry Fish Ladder. This feat of engineering allows migrating salmon to bypass the dam and head upstream to their spawning grounds. We couldn’t see anything through the viewing point but as we crossed the bridge we saw an enormous salmon leap out of the water just upstream. It was very exciting to see such a revered wild animal in its natural habitat. Especially as their numbers have dwindled significantly. We stayed in a slightly more sanitised B&B that evening. The room was very clean and had two large comfortable single beds but little of the charm that some of the smaller, more informal places we had stayed had. We also felt a little bit less welcome than we had in the more rough and ready town of Aberfeldy. It certainly didn’t help that we were the only other walkers and the other clientele were fairly smartly dressed middle aged couples.

The following morning we bought our supplies for the next few days and began another relatively leisurely stroll to Blair Atholl. It was a perfect sunny day and we spent most of it walking along forgiving paths beside the River Garry. We passed the site of the Battle of Killiecrankie which took place in 1689. This famous battle was part of the Jacobite Rebellion which was essentially a war between the predominantly Highlander Jacobite armies and the Government troops. This battle was a resounding victory for the Jacobites but it was costly for all sides. Nearby there is also a rock from which a fleeing Government soldier is said to have leaped across the river to escape pursuing Highland forces. Standing beside it, it is impossible to imagine the fear which must have driven somebody to risk jumping the huge distance across the steep-sided river. We arrived at an old hunting lodge in Blair Atholl that evening in bright sunshine. It was warm enough to sit outside and sample the local ales in just a t shirt which felt like a great luxury. The village of Blair Atholl is a slightly strange place that does not feel as though it has permanent inhabitants. There are many pretty holiday homes dotted around but it feels as though there is no community. After wandering around for a bit we got an early night’s sleep in preparation for crossing the Cairngorms.

Crossing the Cairngorms in early May is a sure-fire way to experience all four seasons in one day. As we opened the curtains in the morning we were greeted with sheets of rain. Luckily, we had breakfast downstairs first before we had to get drenched. In the echoing dining room we ate a light breakfast with smiles on our faces as we had been excited for this section of our journey for quite some time. We repacked our backpacks, fully loaded with supplies for the next three days. Our route took us up the Tilt river and past the grounds of Blair Castle. It is an enormous building but the mishmash of architectural styles makes it look a little bit like a child’s drawing of a castle. As we walked further up the river the banks were lined with beech trees in their gnarled aged state. These eventually gave way to open moorland and the occasional dark forestry blocks.

As we climbed up the valley these forestry blocks became less regular and our only companions became sheep and the occasional strangled call of a grouse. It is hard not to imagine how much life this landscape could hold if there was greater balance between livestock and wild creatures. The occasional splash of wood anemones shows that these hills have not always been so bare. In many ways this bleakness has become part of Scotland’s charm but we are hoping to find a very different landscape as we reach the end of our crossing. We carried on all the way up the Tilt river, past the beautiful Falls of Tarf before we decided to camp near Loch Tilt. This camp spot was in a more sheltered area with a view of Ben Macdui looking gloomy in the distance. For our first evening in this beautiful wilderness we had chorizo and a Tilda rice bag which seemed to be a far more appetising meal than tins of beans. The Co-op in Pitlochry had served us well for slightly more high-end supplies. We had our first dinner of this which felt like gourmet cooking after some of the more questionable meals we had tried, like the disgusting tinned Thai Green Curry we had beside Loch Venachar. There is no greater pleasure than eating outside in my opinion. When you have a sheltered spot and a view of mountains in front of you it really can’t be beaten. The extra Crunchie bar did no harm either.

The next morning we crossed a few burns and then reached a gate which heralds a section of land being released from the heavy grazing pressures. Inside, the first stage of regeneration is underway. Rowan and dwarf birch saplings poke through the heather. Perhaps, next time I walk through this area it will be through thickets alive with birds and reptiles. For now, there is little shade. It is exciting to see this change in attitude towards our outdoors as finally it is being viewed as valuable in itself and not just a resource to be extracted. The Cairngorms is nominally a National Park but in reality much of the landscape is privately owned and used for deer stalking and grouse shooting. Centuries of this has created a very degraded landscape.

Later that day we crossed a rickety scaffold bridge above a waterfall. We had reached the top of Glen Feshie. In the distance a Granny Pine marks the entrance to a landscape which is wholly different. This charismatic tree climbs and twists in front of us. All of a sudden, there is life around. The swishing tail of a snake exits the path ahead of us. A pool of water stands full of tadpoles, a promise of life to come. As we descended further into the glen the transformation was magnificent. There were many Granny Pines around us, all distinctly individual. Their offspring surround them in thick clumps. After seeing Scots pine almost exclusively in forestry blocks growing straight to the sky it was interesting to see how different they look when they grow naturally. Instead of arrow straight they twist and turn all over the place. The path was now flanked by a knee-high layer of moss, heather and bilberries. Above this, is a dense layer of juniper bushes and silver birch. Primroses line the banks of the burns now. It is an amazing feeling to be in this landscape’s natural habitat.

Even though we are not far from the newly renovated bothy at Glen Feshie, we decided to camp on the springy woodland floor under mighty Scots Pines, with silver birch to provide us with the perfect fuel to cook our dinner with. It is a deep sleep. Imagining lynx and pine martens roaming this forest. It should happen soon. From these glens the mighty forests are on the march once more. With a helping hand these areas of strength can flow outwards. The excitement of being in this environment is there for all to see. When we arrive at the bothy the following day, young people from Aviemore are just leaving, having swept the floor and restocked the firewood. They left us a bit of brandy. Neither of us really like brandy but we are so over excited by the luxury of the place we get over it. Glen Feshie bothy is at the height of comfort where bothies are concerned. It has veg boxes outside the front with rhubarb growing in. There is a barbecue, a water source and an almost limitless supply of wood. If this is the only bothy you visit in Scotland then you will have a distorted view of what they are really like. Mostly they are basic but welcome shelters from the weather with a fireplace and place to put your sleeping bag. This is more like an expensive lodge, there is even a compost toilet. It is very welcome though. Glen Feshie is the estate which was bought by the Danish Billionaire and ASOS owner, Anders Povlsen. When he bought it in 2006 it, too, was a degraded hunting estate and in the sixteen years which have followed an almighty change has taken place. Whilst questions remain about the estrangement of the land from local communities it is refreshing to see a wealthy landowner make a positive change to an area.

It is impossible not to wonder about the future of this landscape whilst sitting at this magnificent bothy. Nearby are the ruins of a house that reportedly had a Landseer mural within it. All that remains today is the chimney. Across the Highlands there are the scattered remains of crofts and old houses. Proof that this land was once rich enough to support all these people. That could only happen through diversity. Forestry, sheep and shooting has not left much room for this necessary diversity.

The following morning we left early and walked in the direction of Kingussie and a pub lunch. Waking early and walking in the thin dawn light is one of the greatest pleasures. You feel as though you have stolen extra hours and the world is yours alone. The trees are thick with songbirds. Every mile you walk before breakfast only adds to the glee.We were treated to a heartening landscape and this continued throughout the day. Thick, healthy heather and dense thickets dominate this landscape. The occasional bird of prey wheels overhead. We are hoping to see an osprey as we get closer to the Spey reserve. Unfortunately, no such luck but this is soon forgotten as we passed the enormous remains of Ruthven Barracks. Another legacy of the Jacobite Rebellion and that tumultuous era. From its place beside the Spey it dominates the landscape and it was clearly a powerful place. By the time we made it to Kingussie we were starving. The town itself felt like a middle class town but without any real hub or centre. As one of the places that sit beside the Cairngorms it clearly relied on tourism so there did not seem to be much happening on a rainy day. The first place we saw was the Duke of Gordon where we had a frankly underwhelming sandwich. It was more of a hotel than a pub and its ramshackle outdoor seating should have alerted us but we were so hungry we ignored all the signs!We had full bellies though so this was good enough for us. From there it was a short walk to Loch Gynack and a place to pitch our tent.