It was a fond and freezing farewell on Sunday to Adam Sutherland's cottage near Beauly. Needless to say, finding how to get down the hill was a hell of a lot easier than finding how to get up it had been the previous day - 8 identical turn-offs, 300 identical sheep and a conversation with a roaming sheepdog, and we were still none the wiser about exactly where the cottage was...

A wild whim lead me to attempt a visit to a cousin and his family in Kiltarlity - I hadn't seen him for about 6 years, and remembered admiring his collection of 10cc albums as a child.
He'd swapped the albums for a couple of Tamworth pigs (ginger like me - I felt strangely akin to them) and I was pleased / amazed to find an army of other relatives had had the same idea as me and were already filling the kitchen up.

Pete's wife Nicky coped admirably with this vast clan gathering, and their two daughters wowed me with their incredible drawings of Highland wildlife.
We exchanged notes on Guthrie heritage, in particular the castle and our JM Barrie ancestry, for which Pete whipped out a family tree. I'm pretty excited getting this ever increasing 'archive' onto the site soon ....

After a majestic glen-filled detour to pick up a transcription of one of our interview tapes, we visited Culloden, where the tasteless visitors centre was mercifully shut - it is still a surprisingly bleak place. We arrived at Dores on Loch Ness after dark, and fell prostrate at the first B&B sign we saw, so spook-filled were we.
Luckily they turned out be rather nice, though when the husband asked us to help select the colour for the kitchen tiles, we knew it was time to head off.

Spinning round the Loch, we took in the picturesque Urquhart Castle and; Fort Augustus (named after a fattie who grew up to be the notorious Butcher of Cumberland, apparently) where we witnessed some complex canal manoeuvring (a canal seems very odd here) and an Eastern European style greengrocers.

Webspinner of Strathfeffer beckoned, and he luckily was well worth the detour. Strathfeffer was a spa town last century and still has a genteel elegance with its monkey puzzle trees and pavillions.
Webspinner, alias Mark, runs an online Highlands magazine from this unlikely techno - outpost, and he maintained a miraculously straight face as we threw together a quick sound file from our indecipherable and highly unprofessional collection of interviews.

Drumnadrochit, back on Loch Ness, was our bed for the night, with a
landlady who provided us with a few highly convincing Nessie anecdotes, which we recorded for posterity. Maybe we found someone the BBC have missed...And no, we didn't. See her, that is.

More laughably picturesque glens were traversed today, with a little bit of performance in between. Yes, everyone else was donning their hiking boots & rohans, but we climbed into our full length kilts and posed instead.

Heading down Glen Morison, we turned off to Glenelg, in search of a) A rumoured alternative to the Skye bridge in the form if a 6 car private ferry (turned out true)

b) Any of Lachlan Brown's, (one of our email correspondants), relatives by the name of Murchison. (as mentioned in Boswell's original Journal - "Mr Murchison, factor to the Laird of Macleod in Glenelg")
Though there were no Murchisons left, their holiday home remains, and we duly recorded this on the digital camera for Lachlan.

We are now firmly entrenched in our Skye B&B (a batik centre, but apparently wearing thereof is not compulsory), revving up for a few days solid webwork....

Skye - 3rd April