Wednesday 17 October 2012--Cloudy and colder today, with occasional drizzle. Aboard the ferry, I watch the pier at Coll come and go, and then
settle into the forward lounge. Ardnamurchan slides by to port, Mull to starboard, as we sail toward Oban. I can see a dusting of snow on the peaks inland.
I have a few errands to run in Oban, not least looking for the most recent volumes in the Scotland Street series at Waterstones. When I'm done,
I pop into the local camera shop to inquire about the feasibility of retrieving the photos on my corrupted memory card. The friendly chap there seems to
think it will be no problem, and quotes me a price of twenty pounds, which includes transferring all of the photos to CD. He says it will take about an
hour. D'oh...why didn't I come here first? I leave him to it and go off to have an early dinner at the chippy. When I return, he tells me he's put all
the photos back on the card instead of a CD, and charges me a mere five quid. I'm more than happy, and wish I were staying in town so I could buy him a
The drive to Plockton is made in wind, periodic rain, and gathering gloom. I don't like to be out driving after dark here, but if there's any place
I'd feel comfortable arriving late to, it's Plockton. Stop on the way in at Eilean Donan Castle. As I've noted more than once, Eilean Donan is possibly
the most photographed castle in the Highlands, but I've never caught it at twilight before.
Arrive at 7:00, have a chat with Teresa, and head to the Plockton Inn for a pint or two or three or four. I somehow fall into a blether with Bob,
a very recognizable local I've never spoken to before. In the course of conversation, he asks me why I don't stay longer than the three or four nights I
usually allot for Plockton. Why not, indeed. It's not the first time I've thought that a week here would be nice. It's past time, perhaps, to slow things
down a little.