It has been a very strange 24 hours. When P and I married in January we mentioned postponing our honeymoon to October for a memorable journey to Canada to some of our friends because we expected such a busy AirBnB season.
One kind family decided this Would Not Do and gave us a voucher for the lovely Torridon Inn. We should have gone over in February but I was ill, then I had my op and so last month we rescheduled for this weekend.
Since then of course the whole world has changed. We were in two minds about going at all but after discovering that our rooms were direct access off a courtyard rather than through a building we decided we would, since we could continue to social-distance ourselves.
I cannot find words for the beauties of the drive over – better just to share them with you pictorially. The news then came in shortly after our arrival that all hotels would close the following morning.
The charming French staff at the Inn cannot return home but their employers are being very supportive (unlike the heartless Britannia Hotel Group at Coylumbridge which kicked out its mainly foreign national staff without notice or any provision for their accommodation).
The meal last night (attentive if of course physically distant staff, well spaced tables) for the few of us present had a weirdly Last Supper feel, with much hilarity across the divides. This morning was more muted as people crept into their vehicles and drove off sombre-faced.
On the roads (not so much at the Inn) there are a lot of non-local and foreign vehicles out and about. We also saw many wild-camping tents, especially in Glen Torridon. That is a worrying trend as an asymptomatic carrier from outside the area could spread the virus so easily.
What is the solution? Applecross is already discouraging access to its peninsula. Checking postcodes for shop purchases and limiting fuel purchases might be another way?
I am glad we managed our single, precious night away – but I was also very glad to get home and prepare to batten down the hatches.