Ballochulish [sic], Aug. 26Honey dear :-
We've not done as we planned, but we've been seeing things all the same.
Thursday we went forth about ten o'clock, no, earlier, by train to Craigendoran Pier, some 20 miles from Glasgow down the Clyde. There we took a steamer for the head of Long Long, but to reach this place (Arrochar) we travelled a delightfully devious way by steamer seeing lovely mountains, with quantities of heather. It's a mixture of bell-heather and ling up here and the general effect is rosier than in most of the Lake region. Whole mountains don't glow, but large patches on there do, and the near views of clumps on ledges and among low trees are exquisite. The trip was beautiful, tho the tops [?] were in. We walked about two miles from Arrochar to Tarbut on Loch Lomond - and then it rained all the way home, so we saw almost nothing of Miss McAuslan's birthplace, or of other charming spots. That evening went to conversation with our landlady, which is a juicy employment. We were ostensibly writing, but she made us eight calls! We find that everyone here is keen to know about prohibition, though sure the U.S. are entirely wrong and that things are much worse than before! The papers all have letters in from Americans and Britishers both - very interesting.
Friday was a great day. It was gloriously pleasant! No rain until 6 p.m. and then negligible, and we travelled from Glasgow to Oban via the Crinan Canal. I've never had a day of greater beauty or more varied interest. First we rose at 5:15 - which is saying something for Charlotte - and breakfasted at six o'clock. Then we took a 7 o'clock boat from the Glasgow pier, which took us through the 20 miles of docks and ship-yards. You never saw such things - unless you've done this - I'm sure. Yard after yard with 4 or 5 big keels up on the ways - some of them must be ocean liners. There were idle yards, but enough doing to thrill me - the huge cranes, the vertical lines of the says - all in a pearly early morning quiet, for the work day had begun only at the end of this part of the river. Then came a long season much like the day before - mountains, sea-shore resorts, lovely color and dancing water. This took us through the Kyles of Bute and up Loch Tyne to Ardrishaig (accent on 2nd syllable) where we transferred to the Crinan Canal boat. That was great fun - sailing in a little channel among sweet fields, with a long series of little lochs, where you hopped on and off and took pictures! This took about two hours, and brought us over to the other side of the world! There was gorgeous sunlight - there was dancing water - but yet it was all different. The mountains weren't so much higher, but they were austere and grim somehow, and there were almost no houses. The wind was all but a northwest gale - we couldn't stay out all the time. You wouldn't have liked the motion part of the way! But the mountains of Mull were great, a cloud on only the highest. And the whole series if islands, here a bit of ruined castle, there a tiny fishing hamlet, an island with a white light-house - 'twas all unearthly somehow. I've never seen such a light on sea or land.
We got to Oban about half past five, and shuttled around among the manifold tourist shops which weren't attractive at all. Also we looked up "tours," so as to make the most of our time. Iona and Staffa were omitted, for the trip is expensive and the weather insecure, very. Also we saved almost a pound on this trip by going steerage on the boat as well as 3rd class on trains. The folks weren't bad at all - some very nice ones, and on only one boat were the quarters uncomfortable at all - so we felt that a clear gain.
Sunday, Fort William
This is our farthest north, and lovely. Yesterday we left Oban at 8 o'clock and took the boat to Ballachulish, a lovely trip. There a 2-horse vehicle met the boat and took us through the unattractive slate quarry town up to Glen Coe. I trust you have heard of this famous place. I never had until recently, but it's really wonderful - also Victoria went there with Albert and had lunch on a rock, and said, "what a study!" - so they call that spot the Queen's Study even to this day. 'Tis wild and grim no end - but beautiful also. The mountains are very rugged, and the sides of them are seamed in a way that makes them very gaunt and old-looking. There is a great heap of debris all along, where the water tears the rock down in the spring. And much of this rock is reddish and purple, very varied. At present I have two bits which look very volcanic for Miss Talbot, and three or four paper weights but they may not reach home!
The place has a cave way up high, where Ossian probably did not live, and likewise the Glen was the scene of Highland feuds and a big massacre in 1692, which seems an especial asset. It's all owned by Lady Strathcona. The mountain outlines are more wild than anything I saw in the Lake Region, even Honister Crag, and it seems indefinitely remote. Six people went up in the coach, and we two alone stayed. There was no hotel - only two shepherds' cottages in sight, and we could see miles in both directions. We called at one cottage and had a beautiful time with the woman, who knew someone in Winipeg! She fed us milk, two rich glasses, scones & fresh butter, oat-cake and salted butter. The baking is all on a griddle - she has no oven. We enjoyed seeing her so much - for she wasn't unintelligent at all. She was washing the stone floor of the kitchen when we went in. There were two pairs of brass candlesticks on the mantle above the little fire, but she had no lovely old things as had the Murchington farmer and the Kirkstone shepherd.
Then we went on up to the Queen's Study, perhaps 2 1/2 miles from where we were left - not less. There we found two English women eating lunch - and praise be! they knew the names of some flowers we have seen all over and couldn't find in our book. One is bog asphodel! And one a carnivorous plant, butterwort, very interesting.
Then we walked on back to where we left the coach and maybe two miles more and got picked up by another, as agreed upon. At Ballochulish [sic] Hotel we had maybe three hours, and we found a few shells on the shore before it rained - it was very remarkable not to have rain in Glen Coe, so we learned! We studied the time table assiduously, and watched a motor ferry play with a Woods Hole tide, and had a good dinner with an English military or naval person and a woman of uncertain nationality and still more uncertain connection with him. She may have been a Spanish beauty. He was quite interesting in spite of his very red nose, and we really had a good time. It poured from Ballochulish [sic] to Fort William which we reached about nine p.m. I asked the way to our humble abode and knew I'd arrived, for twice we were told to go "oop the brae." We found the house ultimately of course, and the landlady is austere! She doesn't smile at us. But there are nice Americans here, Macmillans at the ancestral haunts, and a charming highlander, Cameron, who has been most kind.
Today we breakfasted at 9:30 and set forth at 10:30 to go as far as the weather might encourage up Ben Nevis, the highest of all, 4400 feet[.] The wind was wrong for good weather! We went up a lovely valley, Glen Nevis, about 2 1/2 miles until there was nothing left of the road. There were wide sunny stretches and many sheep, and beautiful mountains of varied form, all shadow dappled, with clouds on the highest. The trail, formerly a pony thing to an observatory (!) on top, was perfectly plain and not over-steep but wet and rough no end. It made nice zigzags, and the view was there every minute. We got up to a half way house - and then it rained and the clouds came! But we were lucky to get that far. This house was placed at the top, so to speak, of the head wall of Tuckerman's, though the ravine was narrow and the falls of a thousand streams pitched head-long all around. We enjoyed it so much, and yearned for the top. It looked much more rocky there, but we couldn't see anything by going further so we came down, with rain most of the way, though it did not pour. We wanted to go to the Free Kirk tonight or to the Gaelic service (Gaelic is spoken much here) but the times conflict with dinner, and I judge it is best to go to dinner - Mrs. Graham looked so!
Tomorrow we have all day to get back to Glasgow where we spend the night with Miss Wallace and rejoin our possessions. We came here with rucksacks only, very simple. Maybe we can do some jaunt either here before starting or else hop off part way down. I shall talk with Mr. Cameron some more if possible. But coming up has been well worth while even if it pours all day tomorrow. We've seen a good deal, and goten into it, somehow, as we did in Devon and the Lake District. It has been lots more fun than coaching through the Trossachs with everybody else - lovely as I suppose that place to be.
I hope we shall meet our mail successfully in Edinburgh. This matter of mail is more or less of a gamble. I hope we have missed only a little. Charlotte has so far missed one from an aunt telling of plans to which later letters from various members of the family continually refer, but give no real clue. It is amusingly exasperating. I think I have had your letters through Aug. 7 or thereabouts.
I'm inclosing [sic] a typical weather report from the Glasgow Herald, [no longer with the letter] which seems to us amusing. They're all alike. Some are furnished with maps, locating the "depressions" which seem to appear south of Iceland and to arrive daily!
Goodnight, honey - I'll be glad to see you. But I dread the year very much.
Love to you -