railways

“The murmur of thy streams, O Lora! brings back the memory of the past.”

Carthon, from ‘The Poems of Ossian’, trans. James Macpherson, 1773

The final sojourn of our expedition to the land of my fathers (before turning tail and scurrying back across the pond to the land of The Girl’s fathers – now also my home!) was to spend a few days in Oban; on a different west coast… the west coast of Scotland.

We had taken the sensible precaution of booking massages and other treats at the small spa at the Oban Bay Hotel for our arrival and there were further sights that we wanted to see within the vicinity of the town and the wider area of Argyll and Bute.

We were not actually staying in Oban itself, but a few miles away at Connel. The Girl had once again surpassed herself by picking out a beautifully designed and equipped AirBnB, situated on the banks of Loch Etive at the point where it meets the sea. The lovely first floor apartment over-looks the tidal race known as the Falls of Lora. This fascinating online magazine – The Hazel Tree by Jo Woolf – tells more eloquently than I possibly could the story of this magical spot.

I will simply add some of my own images:

The bridge at Connel is of considerable interest in itself. Built in 1903 for the now long-defunct single-track Callander and Oban railway this unique bridge was the longest cantilever span in Great Britain at the time of its construction – aside from the monumental Forth Bridge. As early as 1914 the bridge had been reconfigured with a narrow roadway on one side and the single railway track on the other. Automobiles and trains could not cross the bridge at the same time, so road traffic had to stop when trains were due.

The Callander and Oban was closed in 1966 and the bridge took on its current form – as a single carriageway road bridge, with traffic signals controlling the flow.

Connel is a very pretty little village in a beautiful spot. A good choice for our penultimate touring base.

One man’s ‘magic’ is another man’s engineering. ‘Supernatural’ is a null word.

Robert A. Heinlein

One of my favourite railway routes has always been the West Highland line in Scotland, from Fort William up to the small fishing port of Mallaig. Before the construction of the Skye bridge at Kyle of Lochalsh, the ferry from Mallaig to Skye was the main route to the isles from the south.

Even for a railway in such a strikingly beautiful part of the world as this, the line has many pleasures; Leaving Fort William under the lowering gaze of the mighty Ben Nevis; navigating a way round the head of Loch Linnie and passing ‘Neptune’s Staircase’ – the flight of locks at Banavie that heralds the start of the Caledonian canal; Glenfinnan, with its iconic curved viaduct and monument to the ’45; the picturesque Loch Eilt; the unexpected white sands at Morar and the largely untouched fishing port of Mallaig.

It must be some five and a half decades now since I first traveled this route and was appropriately thrilled and captivated by the aforementioned sights. It surprises me not at all that the cinematic nature of the area has attracted film-makers over the years and the use of various locations along the line in one of my favourite films – ‘Local Hero‘ – only adds to its enjoyment.

I am somewhat more ambivalent concerning the use of the Glenfinnan viaduct in the Harry Potter movies. The area has such a rich (and tragic) history that it feels somewhat reductive for it now to be so strongly linked to this recent movie franchise. The upside is that it makes possible a daily preserved steam train service along the route; the downside is that some of those of those who pay the relatively high price to travel thereon subsequently grumble at the shortage of further Potter-esque attractions and cavil that there is nothing much to do once one gets to Mallaig. Mallaig is a working fishing port and the fact that it is so – and has remained relatively unchanged throughout the years – is a big part of its charm.