I find myself in rural Perthshire, having been whisked from the metropolis by Thameslink, the Luton Express , Easyjet and Alamo rent-a-car.
The quiet in unnerving and the view from the window of the old school house hostel enervating.
A few days in the Highlands will do me good. My last meeting this week was incoming TPR CEO, Nausicaa Delfas, we met in the Henry Cole room of the Royal Society of the Arts , a small group with the future of occupational pensions in mind. Mu mind was already on the bens around Pitlochry and the wild moor of Rannoch. Of the path from Corrour that once was General Wade’s road, of the deer and the cattle
On the wall of the Henry Cole room is a painting of that textured landscape, below is one of its inhabitants.
Now I have the mountains in mind, and the lochs that lead to this “hamlet on the great north road” as insistently as the traffic that rumbles up and down the A9 between Inverness and Perth.
This is the view
To my Scottish friends, Derek Scott, Iain Clacher, Andy Young, Des Healy. I know you by your country, your great cities of Glasgow and Edinburgh (Dundee too – Callum Stewart).
But I love you for your countryside and for the wild simplicity of the vista before me
For the next few days I will be staying by the birch-strewn shores of Loch Rannoch, staring out at the might of the awesome Schiehallion, the mathematician’s mountain
I will climb that mountain this Easter with my son and recite upon it’s summit
Nae suiner haed A wun the tap
the mount nor A kent ma hert haed dwyned.
An doun ablo was aw Scotland,
a sicht ti tak yeir braith awa,
Ben ayont Ben, ayont Ben, til the sie –
incomparabil – the puil for aw
whaur monie a puggilt saumon dies
wi drumlie een eftir its best,
forfochen… an unfulfilled!
Have a great holiday and return to us refreshed and reinvigorated to continue campaigning for all that is good in pensions