Oban and the Road North to Nowhere

On Thursday took a  bus to Barcaldine. There was nothing there. Came back.
 Here’s a picture of the cantilever bridge at Connell, some fish farms, and Ann sitting hopefully, nay desperately at the bus stop. Back at base camp we had the worst cream tea ever – stewed tea, plastic jam and scones without currants [and currants were in the display picture].

Up to the McCaig Tower, an unfinished circular building, built by one McCaig who deliberately used unemployed local stonemasons. This lovely atmospheric construction is lit up at night, as you can from this view above of Oban from the evening ferry.

 Managed three pubs on this last evening. I packed everything the evening before, even made my sandwiches; then lay awake till 4.30. Ann assured me she would pack everything in the morning – which of course she did. But she didn’t eat the porridge I made her.

We  say goodbye to Oban in the pouring rain, seen here through the train window.