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Dougie McLaren

The Story

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full of shuddering jolts and lurches through the darkness; a darkness the headlights barely pierced! Dougie steered by radar, or some uncanny Highland intuition, and talked incessantly to take everyone's mind off the more hair-raising moments of the journey. Eventually the

Land Rover crunched to a halt on a beach of white shingle. "Here we are" said Dougie, helping his passengers down. "Just half an hour from His Lordship's. Across the Loch! We'll take this wee boat. It belongs to my cousin. He's the Jetty Man at the castle." The Robertsons were appalled, but faced with no alternative they climbed into the little boat which wobbled alarmingly on the water! An outboard motor nudged them across the Loch. The Robertsons, meanwhile, passed the time by shivering uncontrollably.

From the leather sporran around his waist Dougie handed them a silver flask. As they warmed to a nip of whisky, Dougie warmed to another story. "It's a shame it's so dark," he said, "for the scenery here is legendary. Mind, so are the midges! Aye, Midges! Those tiny flying insects, a swarm of which can drive the bravest man insane! Fierce beasties with savage jaws, and teeth that rip the roofs off coaches to get at the tourists inside! Och aye, the midge is legendary here! I mind the time two hikers lost their way in the hills, it was myself who found them, three nights later, in a tumbledown ruin, trapped by a horde of the bloodthirsty midge! The poor laddies were bitterly cold and hungry. They had no supplies, for hadn't they dropped their rucksacks when the midges first chased them through the glen! I gave them my own warm fleece and the scarf I had on. And of course I had my

Write to me at: Dougie@The-McLaren.com or
Phone from anywhere: +44/1360/550116, Fax: +44/1360/550126