LEJOG Day 75: Rowardennan to Inverarnan

Weather: Cloudy with some drizzle to start

Distance covered today: 20.0km (12.4mi)

Last night's B&B: Rowardennan Hotel (£66)

Cumulative distance: 1518.9km (943.8mi)/ % Complete: 79.4%

GPS satellite track of today's route: Day 75 (click!)

The continuing coincidences of this journey remain a fascinating feature. Hardly had I finished writing last night’s post than the “gang of five” appeared in the hotel bar, where I was trying to gain wifi access to upload my blog post. They were, it has to be said, looking a little weary, but they soon revived after a drink. We made a vague plan to meet this morning after breakfast, but they were staying at a B&B some distance away, and I doubted that our paths would cross. This morning, just as I left the hotel, I was taking one last snap of it in its idyllic Loch Lomond position, when a car suddenly interfered with the composition, and there they were, being ferried back to their point of arrival by their hosts for the night. We set off together for the difficult stretch along Loch Lomond in deteriorating weather conditions.

As it happened the weather turned out to be reasonably pleasant, despite dire forecasts. It was cloudy with some drizzle to start, but most of the day turned out to be excellent walking weather, which was just perfect for the task ahead. We had all been warned that this was to be the most difficult of our days on the West Highland Way, but in fact it wasn’t all that bad. The consensus of opinion was that though the going was difficult at times, with lots of rocks and tree roots, and lots of ups and downs, this was more than compensated for by the most stunning scenery on the shores of Loch Lomond. Some of the views were almost sublime, especially in the slightly hazy conditions, which painted each peak in a different hue, using every single colour variation in the spectrum from dark green to indigo. Sometimes as a photographer, one has the sensation that one has just missed a wonderful composition, and one should really return to capture it. On a day like today, that wouldn’t have been practical, but it just didn’t matter. Around the next corner, there would be yet another spectacular composition. It must be difficult living in these parts. Going away would be an exercise in humdrum!

Not of course that your correspondent was continually looking at the view. Mostly, he was talking his head off! The “gang of five” seemed to have had an unspoken agreement that each of them would proceed at their own pace, sometimes with one or two others, but never as a single group. As it turned out, therefore, I was always in conversation with one or two of the group as we meandered our way along the shoreline. As I have often suggested in this blog, this is a moist effective way of having real conversations with relative strangers and today didn’t disappoint.

The fact that this is an unusual group of young professionals with a complex and tangled web of relationships was already obvious.  Their complicated history has not on the surface affected their ability to relate to each other, and if anything, it seems to have enhanced it. Everyone had something really interesting to say, but my impression yesterday of two dominant members of the group, partnered by two extremely sensitive and gentle members was reinforced.  And then there is the fifth member, effervescent and delightfully outspoken, seemingly supremely self-confident, but also something of an introvert.

Our topics of conversation covered everything from business issues such as the collapse of Lehmann’s (Jean worked for them until a short while before they collapsed) and the BP catastrophe in the Gulf, to discussion on my own choices in retirement. With Michiel, the sensitive photographer, I talked about his ongoing collaboration with an Iranian-born artist, who sets scenes in iconic settings, such as the Palace of Versailles, involving situations of extreme conflict, such as the torture of victims in the Middle East, which he then captures on film, using old-fashioned silver-halide techniques. I listened to Jean and Andreas discussing the financing of their properties in London, and I was struck by their faith in the property market as a store of value, despite the tremors and ructions of the past few years. Natalie told me about her work at Guys and St Thomas’s Hospitals in London as an expert nurse in sexual health, and Anna-Marie asked me about my relationships with my daughters.

Andreas and I also talked about a conversation I started with my good friend John way back on Offa’s Dyke. John raised the issue of the “twenty summers”, the idea that as one reaches retirement, there are a finite number of years left before one starts an inevitable decline that deprives one of opportunities, and the question is, what does one do to use that time?  Is it appropriate to fill it? Stuff it full with every imaginable activity; all the things one couldn’t do when one was younger because one was too busy? Or perhaps not? What about just being? Finding a way to be content with one’s lot and just aging gracefully and happily? John also spoke of his scepticism over Stephen Covey’s idea in “First Things First” that one should “Live, Love and Leave a legacy”. John favours the first two Ls, but wonders why it should be necessary to leave a legacy. I argued that it was important to make a difference, but that one shouldn’t do it just to be remembered for making the difference.  If, after the fact, one did make a difference, that would be a legacy.

It’s a tricky issue and I’ve thought about it lots on this journey. Andreas doesn’t like the idea of “twenty summers”; it’s too irrationally mathematical, though of course in reality the number is just a metaphor to concentrate the mind. He also thinks leaving a legacy is somehow related to what you do. It is legitimate for an artist to strive to leave a legacy, but perhaps not for everyone. I did detect in his views the exuberance of middle age. He is at the peak of his powers, newly married to Natalie, and retirement seems a long way off. That will always affect your perspective. Gazing down the gun-barrel of impending old-age produces a different perspective, I fear.

We have agreed more formally to meet again tomorrow morning, but during the day our paths will diverge. They are doing the Way in fewer days than I am and so we will head for different villages tomorrow evening. I will soon be back in my own more traditional milieu, contemplating the glorious scenery of the Highlands alone with my thoughts.

Before that I am contemplating the very first night that I have no way to get onto the internet to upload this post. It was a good record while it lasted, but I knew in my bones that sooner or later, I would drift so far from civilisation that the connection would be severed…..

Loch Lomond this morning, just as we left the hotel

One of the attractions of the lochs is their relatively constant water level, so that moss covered rocks reach right down to the water's edge

A jetty in paradise. We are heading for those mountains

Jean contemplating the view

The path meandering through deciduous forest right at the edge of the loch

For Marion: she phoned and demanded a photo of me right where I was!

Even more stunning as the gloom descends

Jean on her Blackberry, while Andreas looks on

Fishing on Loch Lomond. Even the boats are atmospheric

A small island lends a slightly different colour cast to the view

I can't stop snapping these wonderful views

Long-haired, long-horned, feral goats, especially for Phyllis!

Approaching the end of Loch Lomond. There was a bothy ahead (an emergency overnight shelter)

I find these stone walls irresistable

A last look back at the loch as we climb away from it for the ultimate time 

The interior of the Drover's Inn which claims once to have sustained Rob Roy and is now full of stuffed animals and birds! 

The gang of five and me, about to have supper

The exterior of the Drovers' Inn