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Monday 3 October 2005

Bow Bar Or Bust


My hosts are wonderful, letting me use the computer for hours to try to sort out flights and such, and offering whatever other support they can. I leave Plockton at about noon and drive five hours straight to Edinburgh, up beautiful and empty Glen Shiel, and then up achingly poignant Glencoe, veiled by sun-tinged mist. I gobble the last of my cheese and crackers as I pass over desolate Rannoch Moor, and am not hungry when I get to Edinburgh, so I skip dinner. I want very badly to go to the Bow Bar, especially since I donít know if Iíll be back. I spend a quiet few hours there with pints of Landlord and a couple of glasses of whisky. My flight is in the morning, at 10:20, and a long and sad journey is ahead; but tonight, just for a little while, I can sit in a familiar place and take some small comfort in a good dram.

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