Oh not quite. Gotcha though. No, I was just realizing what a lazy blogging week it’s been. This blog anyway. Fury, is of course active with her pirate crew. All quite hideous. Thankfully she wasn’t choosing between any of them to father the Beaumont heir.
While it’s been ages—all right, at least six weeks- since I blogged about my fav place. Glencoe. Scene of one massacre. And nearly scene of several last weekend as the crowds all but burst the Boots Bar at the seams. I was there doing a little research for my forthcoming book… of course there’s a ton of drinking, socializing with complete strangers from all round the world, and listening to bands, in it. Err….sort of…well, when I think about it….
It’s been the scene of massacre too–the book that is–after my lovely ed asked me to write out a character and her clan. The Macleods. To think they previously survived hundreds of years of warfare, massacre and clearances. But there. They did not survive the fact Fury got there first with a not being who she says she is plot.
Seriously, I did want some photographs and tie that in with a little serious hillying. Not sure how serious that was…. Yes, that is fence posts and ropes at the start of the trail to the Hidden Valley and Gearr Aonach. What will there be on mountains next? Escalators and pulley hoists?
Although some nice railings at the bit further on, on the one stumble and you’re dead bit, would not go amiss. And I’m not talking the rake. The valley, completely boxed by hills is stunning and was more or less empty.
All right. Not looking too happy there. That’s what second round edits do to you. Seriously but there but there was a nasty moment shortly before where–avoiding the rake by doing the rock face,, my jacket fell off and I had to go all the way back down for it. So blue air. Oh and wet feet even if we didn’t meet stranded parties at the river this time.
You don’t see the valley till the last.
Its history is interesting. It was formed by the ice weight and supposedly used by the Glencoe Macdonalds, being a nice clan that way, to hide rustled cattle. Possibly where they hid their own. And it is said to be where survivors of the massacre hid that fatal night in 1692, although I’m not sure how feasible it would have been in the snow, in the dark, in that carnage.
The next day perhaps, if you wanted a good place to hide. The idea of the massacre inspired my next book. liked the idea of a small, cut off clan, living in an impregnable glen, pretty well at the mercy of their neighbours. And a lot of Glencoe, the place, has found its way in to the story.
I said two massacres at the start. I’ve also drawn in the story from another place thousands of miles away. The cave of the Bekiris. In fact there wasn’t ever a massacre there at all.
In 1821 it was the hideout of fighters in the Greek War of Independence.
So maybe it wasn’t, but when you stand in it, you just know history could have swung the other way there for those crowded on the shingle beach at the back of it and there could have been.