Badachro

This morning Angela struggled to get up, but arise she must.

John was in his element preparing the wild Shaggy Cap mushrooms he'd foraged yesterday to add to his breakfast omelette. As it had the last few mornings the rain fell. Across the bay one headland was totally obscured the other clearly visible. We have been in Scotland long enough now to be able to read the weather. The usual pattern is rain, clear, rain, sun, rain.

All packed up, we headed for Gairloch Harbour where a service point had been installed for the vans. Because Marge's water tank is leaking, we have not been filling it up too much, but today we needed a shower. Hold it in as long as you can please Marge. Today we were heading to Badachro to an area known as The Fairy Lochs and Crash Site.

The crash site is that of a second world war American B24 Consolidated Liberator bomber that caught the summit of a nearby mountain and then attempted to crash land hitting the rocks and crashing in to the loch.

All fifteen on board were killed. The plane was of off course and should have been flying towards the Outer Hebrides.

Much of the wreckage remains where the plane crashed and is clearly visible. The area is classed as a war grave and visitors are expected not to disturb or remove any of the wreckage.

(John - I can almost hear my late father explaining how the propeller shaft reduction gearing worked, and the revs per minute it would come into operation and the exact oil pressure required to lubricate it.....)

Angela stumbled upon the site whilst reading on the internet about the area and was drawn to it.

It was a difficult walk of nearly an hour each way across boggy farmland, rocks and mud. Lots of mud. But the walk was worth it to visit somewhere so poignant that wasn't popularised by the guide books. Returning to Marge, wet, footwear and socks full of wet mud, we decided to take a break from scrambling up rocks. The crash site had attracted Angela's interest, and she noticed on the memorial plaque that the accident had happened on June 13th 1945. June 13th was her late grandfather's birthdate. Not wanting to drive much further we took Marge a few miles down the road to Redpoint, a beautiful bay with red sands at the end of a no through road.

Whilst the drive there was pretty, we felt it too remote so returned to the village of Badachro and are now nestled next to the water with views of islands and boats. Nice hey Marge? Very nice, and very quiet. Enjoy.