THE PIXIES' WASHTUB

Another Sunday.

Another walk.

Another rainy day.

Another blog that pays no attention to the truth of the day.

We were away this weekend, so could not go on the walk, which was to the Green Loch and Beyond. This means, of course, that my description of the walk will, necessarily, be based on my interpretation of the photographs that Hugh has kindly provided.

Before I started to type, I thought I better find out why the Green Loch was green. Well, you might not believe it, but the answer is that this is the place that the pixies use for washing their clothes. Here they are making sure there is plenty of water for doing just that.

You can see where this is going already, can't you?

Like all good Pixie stories, there is a mysterious standing stone, or menhir, as those of us who have studied archaeology, fairies and pixies would call them.

This one is not really that mysterious - it tells you on a wee brass plaque why it is there.

It was erected by the people of Badenoch to commemorate Norwegian patriots, who lived in the area and trained to go back to Norway to harass the occupying German army during the Second World War. 57 of them were killed in action, more than one in ten.

These Norwegians were members of Kompani Linge, named after their first commander, Captain Martin Linge were trained at Glenmore Lodge, which was one of a number of similar establishments that turned out such ruthless, silent killers that the Nazis called them the International Gangster School. The Glenmore Lodge used then was in a different location from the one that the walk started from.

Of course, you also get trolls in Norway, not just on Facebook.

As our merry band of pixies headed off into the misty mountains they would not know that they were being watched.

The forest has eyes.

The water has ears.

And the earth has nostrils.

Pixie Pam stopped to have a word with a slug, trying to persuade it to get off the road before it became a greasy stain on the gravel.

Now I know where to throw all the slugs out of my garden!

It wouldn't be a tale about pixies unless there were some toadstools. I nearly typed that as two words which would have been a different story altogether.

These toadstools have been bashed about a bit. Could this be a sign of trolls or, perhaps it was just a bloke having a bit of fun - a fungi.

 This pixie village has been abandoned - things were beginning to look a bit ominous for our little friends.

Undaunted, or stupid, they carried on regardless.

It wasn't long before they came to a bridge. It wasn't just any old bridge. Oh no! It was a bridge to the underworld, where nothing was quite as it seemed.

As they passed through this new world, even the trees sought to pull them back.

Little Richie Red Jacket and Sugar Plum Janet watched carefully as the rest of the pixies made their way down to the shores of Lochan Uaine, as it was known to the old folk who came before. They knew this was the place they were looking for, because the water was green.

They were so pleased to be in this Pixie Paradise, that they lined up for a portrait. Actually, they lined up for two pictures. Can you spot the difference?

Yes, Pixie Pam has turned into Humpty Hugh.

While all that was happening, the Kraken was awakening behind them, its bone white limbs, slowly and silently slipping up from the deep.

Suddenly, they realise their predicament. They turn and realise the danger that they are in. For pixies, getting caught by the Kraken is worse than getting caught by the trolls.

Luckily, Pixie Pam knows an invocation and sent the Kraken back to the slimy sump from whence it came. 

They leave the Loch behind, safe in the knowledge that the monster Kraken broke.

 Despite the sign asking that they turn back unless adequately experienced and equipped, they carry on. Presumably Pixie Pam was oblivious to the meaning of Lairig an Laoigh - Pass of the Calf - because where there are calves, there are cows.

They arrive at their next destination, where they can rest and fortify themselves after their Kraken morning. Little Richie Red Jacket keeps an eye out for danger with his trusty telescope.

The place they have come to - Ryvoan - was known to the old ones who came before as Ruighe an Bhothain. It means sheiling or bothy on flat ground at the base of a mountain.

They were nothing if not literal the old ones who came before.

The bothy would have been a poorer place but for the legacy of Barry McGhee, who, it seems could do anything he turned his hand to - a swordsman as well!

 Of course, a place like this attracted all sorts. Sitting like a statue at the gable end was guardian gnome, who was apparently elf contained.

They left the bothy behind.....

....and mysteriously vanished, apparently into thin air.

Of course, they didn't really do that. They transported themselves through another bridge portal, where they had lots of fun watching Little Richie Red Jacket doing his hilarious impression of a troll carrying off two pixies.

This new land was misty and murky - full of grasping branches and strange old creatures

Robin Whitecap was looking for his roots here.

He must have mist them.

They couldn't miss this though. It was the work of the elusive Little Jinky, a small and mischievous elf who could mould stones to suit his own, nefarious ends.

The pixies finally sneaked up on the big bad troll, who was sleeping in his chair. They pushed him off the chair and over the edge of the cliff.

They were delighted and Lily White conducted the celebratory singing.

They were soon wending their way to the feasting hall of heroes with a skip in their step.

In no time at all, they were there.

Soon they were tucking into a feast of cakes and oodles of tea - a proper pixie party.

What adventures they all had under the leadership of Pixie Pam and Humpty Hugh, who organised everything, even the photos.

THE OUTLANDISH WAY

The August walk was attended by an august group of walkers that didn't include me. In fact, there were a few of us missing for one reason or another.

As I wasn't there, I am indebted to Jim and Jacque and to Hugh for providing me with ammunition, sorry, photographs, to use in the blog. It will, due to my absence, be a work of complete fiction.

The email advising of the walk indicated that they would meet at Dunphail at 1100, sort out transport and then drive to Dava Bridge to start the walk. I expected, therefor to be able to simply sort the two sets of photographs by time and, so, have a neat chronological sequence of images starting from about 1130. Fat chance!

Hugh's camera clearly updates the time automatically depending on the season. The one owned by Jim and Jaque, clearly disnae! So the times on the photos start at 1030 for the J&J images and 1130 for Hugh's. Then they start to overlap and it became desperately confused. So, I had to pick the photos i wanted to use and rename them all to get them in the right order. To say I was losing the will to live before I even started typing is an understatement. Not that this will colour my musings about the various people on the walk.

Anyway, here they all are at 1128 by Hugh's camera at the car park and ready to go.

Here they are, well on their way, an hour earlier at 1029 according to the J&J camera. Confused? You will be, but not as much as I was.

Sandra was just using a bit of spit on her hankie to clean Pam's face. Do you remember when your mother used to do that to you? How can it possibly have been hygienic? How did we manage to make it to adulthood? 

Dave tells them where they are at 1130 by BHT - British Hugh Time. In fact, all this time travel could lend itself to an Outlander blog! If you haven't watched it and you want to be amazed, then you should. It is truly incredible.

Which way to go? Lallybroch in 1745, or Inverness in 1948? Jings, I dinnae ken, sassenach? Whatever ye dae, you better watch out for Blacksmith Sandals, he's a richt de'il, that ane.

Is this the Dava Bridge, or is it, in fact, the bridge between two separate times? Judging by the clothes, I would say there are two different eras represented here.

Ye ken, sassenach, the mark of the English is everywhere on our homeland - there's nae escape from the buggers. It is clearly the work o' that Blacksmith Sandals, or mair like, his son, Andra'.

Aye Murthugh, can ye no open the gates o' the castle so that wee Davie can get oot and away tae warn Jamie that the redcoats are on his trail?

That's us a' oot the prison, but now we dinna ken where to gang next. If only we had a sign.

Och aye, sassenach, here's the sign we were looking for - Bantrach Wood. No, that's not right, this is the 1950's. Frank Sandals, Blacksmith's descendent, or maybe not, is out to shoot that Jamie chap.

Perhaps it is time we all escaped from the 18th Century, through the stone bridge portal. I dinae ken if I can keep up this train of thocht, sassenach. By the way, what's a train?

It says here, sassenach, that this bridge was built in 1861 - I should be dead and ye're no even born yet! How can that be? I'm just glad I accepted everything you told me without even batting an eyelid.

Here, sassenach, d'ye ken what a divie is? It's someone who disnae ken what time it is on their camera!

Aye, Mistress Fitzgibbons will aye see you've got something to keep body and soul thegither. 

 

Alas poor Murthugh has fallen over after Lady Claire told him the whole truth about prohibition in the 1930's. Luckily, wee Davie is on hand to help him understand how it is possible to pass through stones and between times. Murthugh, doesn't care about that, he just disnea want to live through a time without whisky.

Murthugh explains to Mistress Fitzgibbons and her niece, the scheming, Maurie, how good he is at using his dirk. He's nae bad wi' an axe either, but ye may no have got to that bit of time yet, so I'll nae spoil it fur ye. Suffice to say, ye might go aff yer heid when ye see it.

This must be the source of Ian Murray's legs. 

This, of course, is Collie MacKenzie,the clan chief and a sly old dog.

Mistress Fitzgibbons gives Collie a stroke - there's quite a lot of that sort of thing in the programme. Murthugh seems more pleased than he should be.

Another sign from the future about the past. It gets more confusing the more you watch it.

Wee Davie tries to make sense of it all. Does Lady Claire really no love Frank Sandals, because of what Blacksmith did to Jamie? How did Jamie get that hat? Why are Mistress Fitzgibbons and her niece here? Is that really Louise Pam de Rohan Jacket? (She was that flirty temptress in Paris and I don't think the Young Pretender was pretending all the time.)

 This is the route to the cludgie.

The French king had a bit of bother for some time, until Jamie suggested porridge would solve all his problems.

It clearly worked, because he appears to have blown the doors aff the cludgie.

I wouldn't get too close if i was you!

No wonder he blew the doors aff, do you see the size of the porridge bowl.

Time to get some more porridge afore they have to charge the English guns at Culloden.

I had to think long and hard before I decided what to say about this photo, but eventually I recognised that it was that besom Maurie's decolletage. Lucky heather anyone?

The battle is over, It is time to try and find the way back to Lallybroch, but I'm guessing it doesn't really exist, so this could be the road to nowhere - Talking Heads 1985, if you really want to know.

Perhaps you'll be able to cure my cynicism using the roots of this plant, Claire. Then again, I don't know what it is, so it might be a case of kill or cure.

How did Tyrian Lannister get here from Game of Thrones? Someone should tell him he's in the wrong show. 

It might be 1745, but they clearly had somewhere for a helicopter to land.

Or, perhaps this is all a result of eating too many of these.

Luckily they got to the cars, jumped through the back of Jamie's charabanc.....

....and ended up at Logie in stead of Lallybroch.

Well done to the whole cast and crew of Outlandish, a film directed by Jim and Jacque Smith. 

If you haven't seen the TV programme or read the books, well done for getting this far and my apologies for putting you through all of that. You won't need to catch up on it now, anyway.