Runaway train...

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What a day today has been.  

We forayed out to Fort William this morning, stopping every now and again to admire the absolutely wonderful views of the Glencoe mountain range.  Just astonishing.  We were a happy band of travellers, having followed a coach load of Spanish youngsters around.  After the third stop with hordes of teenagers, the husband suggested that we overtake them on the next viewpoint so that a quieter experience might be got.  This was a great idea, but I did so want a photo of the Three Sisters of Glencoe (a mountain range, not a dodgy burlesque trio from Glasgow), so I had to hang out the window and try and get photos.  I'm not saying the husband was driving faster than I would have liked, but looking back at today's photos, the Three Sisters are accompanied by two large signposts, a rather slow camper van and most impressively, two cyclists.  I feel a lesson on photoshopping or slower driving is needed...

Fort William was a bit disappointing except for the fabulous coffee and views of the loch, so we then hightailed it off to Glenfinnan with the hope of seeing the famous viaduct used in the Harry Potter movies.  Now I am no fan of the wizardy series, but both the girls are, so I thought it would be lovely to take some photos of it for them.  Imagine my joy at seeing a steam train (not the Hogwart's Express sadly) going over the viaduct. It even gave its whistle a good old blow a couple of times - I think that one of these was for the bride (in white dress, veil and trainers) and groom (in full Highland regalia with a rather perky sporran if I might be so bold) who were having some formal photos taken.  Turned out it was their first wedding anniversary, and as HP fans, they thought it would be a great idea to have the photos done.  Not so clever when it's 28 degrees though. Bet he was wishing he'd bought her cinema tickets or a painting for their paper anniversary rather than sweating his Trossochs off in good Scottish wool,

Then back to basecamp where we polished off left over sausages and cauliflower cheese.  'Don't forget we have trifle for pud', I reminded the husband as he scooped another ladle of cauli cheese onto his plate.

'Too late', was his reply.

Fast forward two hours, and that trifle is no more...


 


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