My destination for the day was the Glen Urquhart Hotel, a little way up the glen from Drumnadrochit.  I rode South to Beauly Priory; the name Beauly comes from the French "beau lieu" or "beautiful place", the priory having been founded by French monks in 1230.  This town has doubtless changed a lot since then, but it is still charming.  

 

There seem to be two routes to Glen Urquhart: the A831 up the West bank of the River Glass to Cannich at the head of the Glen, and a more direct route up Glen Convinth and over the top, to join lower Glen Urquhart near Milton.  I pick the latter: I have time for the climb, and guess that this route will have less traffic.  But a little way out of Beauly I find a third road through Eskadale.  A few houses dot the roadside; in  an hour's riding on a smooth single track road two cars pass me.  On my left hand the varied greens of the woods overhang the road; on the right the river Glass wanders across its flood plain, the tinkling of the waters mingling with the bleating of uncounted lambs.  Two fishermen in chest waders work the stream; otherwise, I have the whole valley to myself, an idyllic slice of heaven on earth that would by itself have been reason enough to take this trip.

 

Finally, my single track road meets the main road that has crossed from the other side of the valley, and a short, sharp step to the top of the pass brings me into Glen Urquhart.  I almost pass by the sign to Corrimony Cairn, but take the side trip to a very well-preserved prehistoric burial chamber, still accessed by crawling through the entrance tunnel.

 

The Glen Urquhart hotel at £42 was the most expensive place at which I had stayed, and the only one that felt a little phony — shades of Fawlty Towers.  However, the location was perfect for my purposes; the following morning, a Sunday, saw me spinning the few miles down the Glen towards Drumnadrochit on Loch Ness.  I had intended to head straight down the shore of Loch Ness to Inverness, keeping ahead of the traffic from Fort William, but in the event I spent too long a time enjoying Urquhart Castle overlooking the Loch.  As I was about to leave the Castle, I found that I no longer had my riding glasses, and had to go back to search for them — eventually finding them, because a kind soul had handed them in at the visitor center.  So, by the time I left Drumnadrochit, traffic was heavy, and every viewpoint over the Loch crowded with motorists and busking Highland pipers.  I stopped to lunch on the last of my provisions at Dochgarroch Lock on the Caledonian Canal before completing the last few miles into Inverness.   However, there were still more than two hours before my train, so with the help of varied directions from locals, I headed through town and out to Culloden Muir, the site of the infamous last battle between the Scottish and the English, where Bonny Prince Charlie was put to flight in 1746, and the power of the clans destroyed.  A somber ending to a fantastic trip.

 

Whereas I took the train back to Glasgow, and the same evening was in a comfortable hotel preparing for a conference, Peter's tour had continued under his own steam through Stromferry and Glen Shiel, and then by Glen Sheen all the way to Edinburgh.  It's not clear from the account in his book whether the final stretch from Roybridge to Edinburgh, a distance of 130 miles, was covered in one day or two.  Either way, both Peter and I, on our respective trains back to civilization, were already planning our next tours in the Highlands.

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