Black Rock Cottage

The last time I passed this close to here was after a 23 mile hike across the wilderness of Rannoch Moor with a packed rucksack (day four of our West Highland Way expedition), a pair of boots full of blisters, a big bro developing shin splints, a Minolta 35mm camera with half of its 24 exposures spent and a Sony video camera as big as a bread bin. Our next stop-off was a few hundred yards away and the prospect of a warm bath, cold beer and a comfy bed was blinding us from anything photographically arty.

So, to make up for it today, I waited patiently in the queue amongst the other photographers waiting to snap the isosceles slap of Munro mountain Buachaille Etive Mor behind the pristine white-washed walls of the the Black Rock cottage, then elbowed my way in to take the same photo that's been shot a thousand times before.

Don't care. Had to be done. I can move on now.

After a long drive north (driving in the Highlands of Scotland in October's far too distracting when you've a shutter happy finger) we're now camped up in our cosy log cabin on the outskirts of Portree on the Isle of Skye, home-made soup heating on the hob, logs smouldering in the burner, and red wine slipping down nicely thank-you-very-much.