Well I was quite wrong-no midges and only two caravans en route and both of them swept away on one of the (few) dualled carriage wayed bits of the A9. One Sunday driver only(and it was Sunday) and he reluctantly edged over to let us pass but not without the stiff finger heavensward. And this place is so remote Mr Fish can't find us so we have had very little rain whilst the rest of you have been soaked. All the cabins are named after whiskeys but our has a sad name ' Glen far gus' best translated as 'The valley where no one makes love'. And to cap it all there has been no attempt to get Huttonian into any kind of sailing craft. There again, thankyou Mr Fish, no wind=no sailing. Al Hamdullah as the Moslems would have it.
Aviemore is not much to write home about-even that is difficult as the post cards are sold at rip off prices. Coffee for 2 and 2 scones-£5.20. Internet access £1 for 15 minutes. Overseas cost of living allowances necessary to survive here. And the town is a mess-developed in a hurry with 60s architecture at its worst.
This is Monarch of the Glen country-BBC version. Never heard of it? OK I will move on.
The scenery is picture postcard (see above) Scottish at its wild best magnificence. You can now see what the Scottish Borders Tourist Board is up against in selling its wares. But it is a tourist trap-people are not particularily friendly in the main(They need the visitors but don't really like them) and give me the Mersians every time.
More later. If I can afford it and if I am spared.
