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Friday 19 October 2007--Last night we met a big black lab named Harry in the bar at the Anderson, in the
company of his master. This morning, after checking out the ruin of Fortrose Cathedral, we run into a large black lab
being walked by his mistress.
"Is that Harry?" Bobby asks. "Yes," his mistress answers. "How do you know Harry?" We are not sure that we should answer. Harry says nothing. We depart the Black Isle via the Cromarty-Nigg ferry, which Ron and I took in the opposite direction last year. The drive to Ullapool is not long, and we have the afternoon to stroll around the town. At one point, we are standing on a street corner near a middle-aged couple with two teen-aged kids, a boy and a girl, the latter of whom is far ahead of her brother in terms of physical maturity. She is wearing a pair of the low-rise jeans that are so popular these days, and in raising her foot onto a railing to tie her shoe, she exposes a considerable expanse of flesh in the region of her callipygian cleft. Bobby and Ron seem not to notice. The parents are looking elsewhere--I imagine there has been considerable futile conversation heretofore regarding the suitable height of a girl's trouser waistline. We cross the street toward the Caledonian Hotel, and Ron reads aloud the sign promising "good food and drink and great craic". Adolescent boys that we are at heart, we dissolve in laughter. Bobby says that we have seen the Butt of Rhonda. We hang out in the Seaforth for dinner and pints. I remember the first time I was here not thinking much of it, and the second time thinking it was okay. Today it seems a nice place to hang out. I don't know if it has changed, or I have warmed up to it. No matter. Soon enough, we are on the ferry, bound for the Western Isles. Next |
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Fortrose Cathedral
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Fortrose Cathedral
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Fortrose
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Harry
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The Anderson
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Cromarty-Nigg Ferry
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Cromarty
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Ullapool
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Arriving Ferry
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Docking
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Ullapool
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Leaving The Mainland
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Highlands
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Coigach
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Coigach
Next
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