Achnacreebeag

This Argyll weather is crazy. No, sorry, it really is. Awakened early morning by a violent rain storm hammering on the car roof, cloud filling Glen Lonan, by the time I return from a wander upon Meall Reamhar the day is clearly set to be a ‘scorcher’. One can almost imagine Sun ‘journalists’ with fingers poised over PC keys. Bless ‘em.

So, across the bridge I go at Connell and should have taken the first right to Black Crofts, turning right at the junction to take the ‘first tarmac left which doesn’t appear to lead directly to houses’, according to a local woman – it has to be said rather startled to be flagged down by a very rough looking Gladman. Needless to say, however, I didn’t, for some reason deciding upon an unfeasibly straight road past Achnacree instead. Why? But I got there in the end, parking as per Greywether’s notes to find an very ‘un-farmer-like’ farmer reading out front of the farmhouse. ‘Enjoy’, he says and I’m reminded of that Cope quote ‘is there nowhere I will be made unwelcome?’ Or something like that.

The site is a short walk across fields from here, although several gates need to be negotiated before a private audience with the two, very different chambers on view is attained. The first is a low, squat structure, the fine capstone unfortunately fractured into two unequal portions and thus content to do without the support of the surrounding orthostats. To the NW, however, is a fine looking dolmen, the substantial capstone very much supported by its companions. Unfortunately the chamber is filled with stones, whether remnants of original cairn material, or field clearance, I cannot say.

I lie upon the south-eastern chamber capstone and roast in the sun, sounds of playing children drifting up from the Abhain Achnacree (stream) below and to my left, screened by foliage. Beinn Lora towers straight ahead, looking far higher than it actually is. Hell, it’s a glorious site all round.... overgrown, but not to excess and I get the feeling it plays host to very few visitors indeed... although interestingly the BBC were apparently here not too long ago. Whatever for?

Returning to the farmhouse I’m greeted with some surprise regarding the length of elapsed time. Rather than saying ‘I’ve been experiencing the vibe, maaan’, I play the pseudo-academic card and find myself deep in discussion re the rock art of Kilmartin, cup-marks and distribution patterns. Although somewhat out of my depth as regards rock art, I think I manage to avoid being thought a charlatan blagger, since the guy clearly knows his stuff. But only just, mind...

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