Glencoe: Massacre and Majesty.

Glen Coe, or Gleann Comhan as it is named in Gaelic, runs more or less east-west and marks out the path that an ancient glacier carved out of the landscape on its way to join the even bigger glacier that must have carved out Loch Leven, which in turn must have flowed* into the even bigger glacier that formed Loch Linnhe. It is long, U shaped and sweeps the motorist on a gentle descent towards the sea, before the road turns sharply northwards again.

Indeed, given that the A82, which is the main road north if you're on the western side of the country, cuts straight through it, it must count as a minor miracle that Glen Coe remains pretty much unspoiled, at least, unspoiled by traffic and industry.  Huge articulated lorries thunder through the narrow cutting that leads into the glen from the high western end, and yet the peace tranquility of the place seems undiminished. Not that the glen has always been quiet, of course...

On the thirteenth February 1692 the Campbell clan, who were staying as guests of the MacDonald clan, rose up after a night of convivial feasting and massacred their unsuspecting hosts in a crime that shocked a nation and resonated down the centuries. Clans killing each other wasn't exactly unknown back then of course, but to transgress against the mores of hospitality in such an underhand way, rather than to face their foes on the battlefield as honourable men was an unconscionable crime that has left a deep scar in the psyche of the place.

This was no fight after a party either. The massacre began simultaneously in the settlements of Invercoe, Inverrigan, and Achnacon, which suggests a pretty high degree of planning - this was 1692, it's not as though they could send each other a text saying "GO!". The killing then spread out across the glen as MacDonalds, roused from their beds, attempted to flee to safety. In all thirty eight members of the clan MacDonald were directly murdered by their Campbell guests, with something in the region of a further forty women and children dying of hypothermia after their houses were torched. This was February don't forget. I've been in Glencoe in winter - I can only assume that the only reason about forty people died of exposure was that there were only about forty people there.

The reason for this shockingly violent attack? What terrible crime had the MacDonalds committed to bring down the wrath of the Campbells?

Basically it turns out that they were being punished for their tardiness. They'd been a little late in pledging their allegiance to the new Monarchs on the Block, William and Mary, who'd been brought in to depose the previous Monarch who was basically a bit too Catholic for Parliament to stomach.

Nope, not making that up - check your history. Some protestants in Parliament didn't like the fact that their King was Catholic and feared he might forge an alliance with Catholic France. They therefore invited the Protestant William of Orange, who had no claim to the throne in his own right but was married to a woman who did, to come over from Holland and take the crown. Which he then did, in the so-called "bloodless revolution".

It can't have felt all that bloodless in Glencoe.

All of that is a massive over-simplification, of course. There are any number of books and pamphlets about the massacre, its context and its aftermath. I think for me it all comes back to the fact that the Campbells were there as guests. That they ate and drank with the MacDonalds knowing that they would murder them later that night. There's a measure of cold bloodedness in that which I find chilling.

It's a testament to the stunning beauty of Glencoe that knowing all of that doesn't take anything away from the jaw dropping magnificence of the place. Glencoe is quite frankly stunning. Big enough to impress, but built on a small enough scale that you can still take it all in. Given that the main road up the north west of Scotland runs right through it, I'm astonished that there aren't accidents as motorists drive off the road while gazing in slack jawed awe at the magnificence around them. This effect is amplified when you approach the glen from Rannoch Moor.

From this direction, before you even see the glen you are first greeted by a waterfall, the top of which is almost at your eye-level but which thunders down maybe twenty meters to the river below. There's a good sized lay-by overlooking the thundering torrent, making it easy to stop and take in the roaring plume of water. To be fair, in the summer, when it's been dry it's more of a trickle, but it still reminds you that you're pretty high up. Get back in your car, drive on a little and  when you emerge from a high rocky cutting to find the glory of this glaciated valley stretching out below you.

The visitor to the glen is always rewarded, no matter what the time of year it happens to be. In the spring and summer you are presented with vibrant greens overlaying the subtle greys of the bedrock that forms the peaks that tower on either side of you. In the depths of winter, even if it hasn't been snowing, the place frequently shimmers under a sparkling party dress of frost and ice. When we were there most recently it was mid autumn, and the valley was clad in exuberant yellows, oranges, russets and reds.

As you make your way along the A82 you descend into the bottom of the valley. There's a small lay-by on your right which gives you a chance to take in the full length of the glen - especially if you get out of the car and climb up the hill a little way. Progress further and there are two good sized car parks on the left, both of which give stunning views, and make great starting points for exploring the valley on foot. Even when we've been feeling lazy we've spent a lot of time in these vicariously enjoying the supurb walking offered by the steep sided peaks that surround the glen by watching other people making the ascent. You could even climb up over the hills into the beautiful Glen Etive on the other side. Glen Etive is a subject for another time, however, so we'll continue down the hill.

The asphalt ribbon of the A82 sweeps down to the valley bottom, past the glistening water of Loch Achtriochtan and out towards Loch Leven and Loch Linnhe. On the way you'll pass the visitor centre run by the National Trust for Scotland, who own a significant proportion of the glen itself. The visitor centre has, I'm afraid, always left be a little underwhelmed. The centre and its buildings have won many awards, so it might just be me, but every time I've been in there the shop never seemed to be more than half open, and the staff never more than half bothered. There is an interesting exhibition though, and video presentations which will tell you about some of the local history, the wildlife and geology of the place. I think what I'm saying is, if you need to get out of the rain for a bit you might want to give it a look, but if the sun is shining you might as well give it a miss.

Heading west from there you'll come first to the village of Glencoe, and then to the village of Ballachullish. Glencoe sports a small folk museum, which I have no recollection of ever visiting - although Mrs Snail insists that we have - and a small grocery store. Well, small by southern standards at any rate. If you disregard the supermarkets to be found in the heaving metropolises of Fort William (which has a Morrison's) and Ullapool (which has a Tesco) the shop in Glencoe is actually quite large by the standards of the Western Highlands. There are also many guest houses, should you be travelling sans-caravan.

Ballachullish is actually slightly larger than Glencoe Village, although since most of the village is a little way up the hill you can't quite tell that from the road. Like Glencoe Village it overlooks Loch Leven, and at the water's edge sits the "Isles of Glencoe Hotel". Obviously we've never stayed there, and although we keep meaning to, we've never eaten there either. We still like the place, however, because of the view across the Loch which can be had from their car park...

There is also a rather good tourist information centre on the inland side of the main road, a hardware store, a car dealership and Chisholm's Garage, worthy of mention because when we had car trouble here a couple of years ago they fixed it in about two minutes flat and refused to charge me. It is true that the problem was minor - just a detached under-tray - but that's not the point. The point is that I couldn't fix it, and it must have been obvious that I couldn't - and that I knew nothing about cars. They could have sat me down in their waiting room for ten minutes, fixed the problem and charged me fifty quid. I'd have left happy and none the wiser. As it was the nice man took one look at it, crawled under the car, twiddled something, snapped the under-tray back into place, crawled out again, grinned, and sent me on my way. I offered to pay, but as I said, he was having none of it.

In a strange way, that little encounter remains one of my fondest memories of Scotland. You can tell a lot about a place and its people by the way they treat strangers...

Beyond Ballachulish you soon reach the roundabout that marks the point where you have to decide whether you're going to continue north on the A82, towards Fort William, or head back in a southerly direction on the A828 towards Oban. I'm not sure why, but this spot seems to attract Buzzards, which can often be seen sitting on the streetlamps there - like this fella, who was there pretty much every time we went past on our most recent visit:

Beyond that, it's a matter of a few hundred yards to the pale green metal bridge - which has always reminded me of the eighties video game "Outrun" for some reason - which carries the A82 over the narrow stretch of water that links Loch Leven with Loch Linnhe and which, for me at least, marks the point where Glencoe ends and the next phase of the road north begins.

*Insofar as several billion tons of ice can be said to "flow". We're dealing in geological time here though, and by those standards glaciers practically sprint!