Ode to traffic lights

My dear reader,

have you ever wondered whether you appreciate the little things in life? Take traffic lights. They shine for us, they even change their colour twice (or even three times) within a few minutes, just to please us - isn't that service?!

They look out for us, but what do we do? We ignore them. Cold-heartedly we walk past them. We look at them dismissingly without ever feeling guilty. We don't spare them a second glance.

But they were built to protect us. Do we feel so indestructible that we can renounce them?

Remember: Traffic lights do have feelings!

So the next time you stand there in the pole position, your whole body leaning towards the other side of the road, your mind already five streets away - relax, take a deep breath and think of the things that might go through the traffic light's bright little head.
Don't ignore it.
Smile, and say thank you.

Then the world will be a better place.

Blogging for somebody else

For the German speakers among my readers: I am currently in Berlin, reporting from the BDEW-Congress (energy and water suppliers) for the German youth press. We'll be producing a newspaper at the end of the event, and we are blogging and tweeting regularly until Thursday. So please feel free to have a look at our blog and tweets.
Cheers :)

Day 6 - Land of the thousand lochs

When I wake up, my legs are covered (well, almost) in insect bites. There must be something living in the bed. Well, at least I managed to feed a few hungry creatures.
The guys arrive quite late, but as soon as start walking, we are back in yesterday's fast pace again. We pass a little church, and then walk along the shore of the loch, enjoying the splendid views over the crystal-clear lake.

Using tiny paths leading around some farm buildings, we come to the Frank Bruce Sculpture Trail outside of Kincraig. Frank Bruce, who died in 2009, was an artist and sculptor who used woodcarving as a way to express himself in a way that words did not offer him (he was dyslexic and left school at 13). The sculptures are very impressive and thought-provoking, and it's a pity we don't have the time to look around a bit more.
If you want, have a look at Frank Bruce's very inspiring biography:

“Essentially, the reason for the sculptures was to say that I’m still here. I am here and I’ve got something to say.”

Soon after we arrive at Feshiebridge, where one of the men decides to take a bath in the icy waters. He takes off his clothes, and jumps. I take up position on the old bridge and get some lovely pictures of him hurling himself from the rocks. Enjoy :)

Brave man...

After some trouble finding the right way (some signs and way marks mentioned in the guidebook no longer exist), we continue walking on broad forest tracks. There are several junctions, and as I seem to be the only one with a map/guidebook, I lead the group (fun).

We're having lunch at Drake's Bothy, where I also scale a lovely climbing tree (and notice that I'm a bit out of practice).

Now out of the forest, we walk through an open heather landscape, with birch trees and little muddy mini-lochs scattered all over the place. There are fantastic views over the Cairngorm mountains, the highest of which are still covered in snow.





After passing small Loch Gamhna, the track is plastered with puddles. The men have fun dropping heavy stones into the mud to have brown water splash over everyone and everything - including me :) It's getting even more hilarious when the people at the top of the group start building tree barriers for the rest of the walkers:

Mud-splattered, we arrive at the beautiful Loch an Eilean, where - after taking a wrong turn once again - we finally make it to the visitor centre (lovely ice-cream). From the shore of the loch we have a fantastic view over the loch and its island castle. No wonder this was voted "Britain's best picnic spot".

From the loch, we use some nice paths to get to Aviemore, passing another small Loch and the Rothiemurchus Estate, which offers a variety of activities, both on the water and on land. I wanted to do the Treezone activity there, but I was too late that day.

Soon, we arrive in Aviemore, and after having a quick drink in a pub, it's victory photo time - at the station opposite:

In the evening, the men put away their kilts and step into weird and wonderful costumes. There's a 3-course dinner at the hotel they're staying, and I'm invited along. It seems to be tradition for them to have this costume evening, and there are some really great disguises present. There's Darth Vader (who looks great sitting there texting on his phone - ever seen him do that before?!), a pink hippo (who wins the prize for best costume), a very serious looking Sherlock Holmes, and many, many more.
In the evening, when it's time to leave for the station, Darth Vader, a pirate, a clown and Elvis accompany me there - very much to the amusement of the passengers of an earlier train (before which the station manager actually announced "Elvis, please move away from the platform" via the speakers) and later, my own one.

Now, this has been it - my East Highland Way trip. It was full of surprises (who could have guessed I'd end up walking with twenty men in kilts?!), sunshine, rain and blisters. And it brought me about 600 photos. I might post a few more over the next couple of days, and I also plan to write something of a concluding text, with some tips and ideas for other people wanting to do the walk (i.e. the practicalities). Until then, have a look at the fantastic EHW website...

Day 5 - Of cows and men

The bed in Newtonmore Hostel is the best ever! It's extremely hard climbing out from under the comfy blankets, especially when seeing the rain running down outside the window. After five days with fairly good weather, the rain god has decided to stir things up a bit.

I'm having breakfast in a lovely tea room (Betty's Pantry and Tearoom), where the owner lets me copy her tablet recipe. Something to try out at home...
The guys turn up late (again), this time, only a few are wearing kilts, most are - like me - in heavy rain gear. But thanks to the rain the air is fresh and cool, and the clouds give the mountains a mystical appearance.

Because we don't fancy walking several miles on a tarred cycle path and because it is too wet for the alternative boggy route, we take the vans to Kingussie, from where we start the walk. The first leg of the trek takes us to the impressive Ruthven barracks, built in 1719 after the first Jacobite uprising. There's a Highland cow standing directly in front of it; it almost looks as if she (?) was posing for a picture.

After the barracks, we leave the road and begin to follow the way marked Badenoch trail. It takes us on small footpaths through lovely birch forests and over open farm- and moorland. There are several bird hides on the way, but unfortunately we don't stop to have a closer look. Our walking speed is the fastest yet; luckily my blisters have disappeared and my fitness seems to have improved quite considerably.

We have lunch on an old stone bridge (built in 1728) leading over a gurgling river. I manage to drop a few oatcakes into the water, but at least that might feed the fish in there.

By now, the rain has stopped, and we rid ourselves of the sweaty rain gear. The men are all wearing bright orange T-shirts with the name of their charity and all the walks they've done in recent years on the back. Next year they will walk the Great Glen Way and have already invited me to come along. Tempting...

After the bridge, the forest becomes darker and darker - at least compared to the bright birch forests from earlier - and the forest track gets thinner until it's no bigger than a comfortable path. After all the tarmac roads of the past days, this is heaven for our feet (or maybe - a bit more down to earth - like a nice massage).

We pass through two tiny villages nestled deep into the forest.

The path ascends quite heavily, and with our pace being as fast as it is, the group splits up - as so often -  into two parties, the fast and the slow. But this time, I am in the faster one - yippieh :)

The trail passes over some boggy ground, and one of the walkers slips and lands on the muddy ground. Luckily, he's alright - and a source of amusement for the next hour or so.

After some time, the forest gets less gloomy and we begin to meet some other people - walkers, elderly gentlemen walking their dogs and a group of people looking at fallen trees on the ground (maybe they plan to plant some new ones). Soon, Loch Insh comes into view, a large lake close to the village of Kincraig. After a lot of up-and-downs on tiny footpaths, we arrive at Loch Insh Watersports Centre. The vans with the other charity walkers that didn't take part in today's leg are already there, and together we sit down for a pint (and some lovely ice-cream). There's a large group of children out in the water being taught how to windsurf - it must be freezing in the water today.

From here, the lads drive me to my hostel, Cairngorms Christian Centre in Kincraig. I have to wait for half an hour or so for someone to arrive and let me in - mobile reception here is as bad as it was everywhere along the way, and the nice lady who then shows me around the centre never got my message. After leaving my stuff in the hostel, I have a look around the village shop (and get a newspaper - more sudokus for later on), and because it has started to rain again, I seek refuge in the Ossian Inn, a hotel in the village (and the closest place to get some food). The kitchen is still closed, so I sit down with some tea and read the paper, until the chef arrives (but the food later on is very much worth the wait).

Here a final group picture that didn't fit into the entry above:

Day 4 - Wildcats of the Glen

The Rumblie Guesthouse feels more like a hotel. I have a wonderful twin room with an ensuite bathroom (boasting a shower with two shower heads that make the water rain down on me from all directions) and even a little TV. This morning, I'm having smoked haddock and poached eggs - after that I am so full of energy that I can't wait to start today's walk.
Just after 10am, the men in kilts arrive. Just outside Laggan, we pass Cluny Castle, which - according to the owner of last night's accommodation - is now owned by a Norwegian businessman, who only lives there a few weeks a year.
Behind the castle, a track leads up into the hills. The route follows the (way marked) Glen Banchor trail, so this time the chances of us taking a wrong turn are fairly slim (and we actually manage to follow the official EHW route all day). Today, there are almost as many men walking as on the day I first met them.

The path is much nicer than the tracks yesterday, and the route is the best so far: It takes us high into the glen, sporting a rugged, beautiful landscape.

After crossing a shallow stream (oh, how I missed all the stream crossing), we arrive at a lonely stalker's bothy. Sitting on the ruins of some former dwellings, we have lunch (and meet a German couple walking the EHW there - in the Highlands, all people you meet seem to be either Scottish or German), before proceeding over more and more boggy ground.

There are more streams to cross (after some time you develop a tactic that works most of the time), but all of them shallow enough to cross without much effort. We come across several frogs and toads, some very interesting birds, some of which I have never seen/heard before, and even a pheasant.

But we are probably too loud to see any deer or wildcats. After about three hours of walking through beautiful Glen Banchor, the path becomes a more sturdy trail which leads down towards Newtonmore.

But some of us decide to take the slightly longer, but much more beautiful wildcat-trail into the village. This area is known for its wildcat population, and there is not only a way marked trail through this cat territory, but there are also dozens of painted wildcat statues to be found all over Newtonmore.

Newtonmore is a nice little place, with my hostel in the middle of it. I'm in a private twin room, because the owners didn't want to out me into an all-male dorm.
Later, I go to the pub opposite, where I meet the German couple I saw near the ruins earlier today. With a delicious haggis and some local Dalwhinnie whisky, we get talking. It's strange speaking German...

Read more about my East Highland Way trip here.