16 February: Rum day 5

Strange weather, initially low cloud then a blast of sun lightning up the hill across the water, a long golden tongue.

Waiting for Alex to set me up on pressure cleaning the decking around the bunkhouse, I have quarter of an hour of blissful contemplation of the loch. The reddish and black rock reminds me of barbecued meat.

The pressure cleaning is satisfying, but noisy work.

After work I stroll around the loch, hoping to walk up to the hill overlooking the bay. A stag suddenly appears and nonchalantly out gazes me. 

Through the clouds tantalising glimpses of Hallival. The weather continues unstable and I head back down.

Alex is running around like a headless chicken, having managed to lock a cabin door (from the inside) that is booked out by guests from tomorrow. Jim comes to the rescue, drilling out the lock. 

At the bunkhouse I chat with Amélie, asking her about her studies. Her course/apprenticeship as a decorator is pretty unique, with a very French nuance to it. Wiki has this to say about the training she is going through:

“The Compagnons du Devoir, full name Compagnons du Devoir et du Tour de France, is a French organization of craftsmen and artisans dating from the Middle Ages. Their traditional, technical education includes taking a tour, the Tour de France, around France and doing apprenticeships with masters. For a young man or young woman today, the Compagnonnage is a traditional mentoring network through which to learn a trade while developing character by experiencing community life and traveling. The community lives in a Compagnon house known as a cayenne and managed by a mère(mother) or maîtresse (mistress), a woman who looks after the well-being of the residents, of which there are more than 80 in France. The houses vary in size from a small house for five people to a larger one with more than 100 people living together.

Until 2005, the compagnons were all male. Today, they can be found in 49 countries across five continents, practising many different trades.”

Amélie is on a roll with pancake making. 

We eat them while playing board games, with Andrew, from Scot Nature, who drops by. He has been working with the hind cull, leading the ponies bringing the carcasses off the hill. (Apparently the percentage taken out each year is a little more than the 15% nationally. There are currently 1200 in the 100 square kilometres.)

Scott doesn’t show up for my tuna bake. 😗

The next two days are the weekend, and we are free. The young ones plan an overnight walk to Dibidil bothy. 8km of boggy track, improvised sleeping gear, carrying in firewood, pot noodles. The idea of a bike ride is overwhelmingly more attractive!