Corrour

I came here to escape my responsibilities and to find some peace and quiet.

I found both in Corrour, an extremely remote area on the moorland in the West Highlands of Scotland. The train is the only way in and out, and the SYHA hostel by Loch Ossian is the only place to stay for the night.

Else, there’s nothing for miles.

Nothing but the pebbled walking trail, the woods, the serene Loch frozen over in the cold.

And did I mention the hills and munros? With their peaks covered in frost and snow during the winter.

The train station isn’t connected to any paved roads, but only a walking track with the occasional 4wd. It’s also the only place with a WiFi connection.

Yes, you’re off the grid here with no mobile signal. Perfect for a proper getaway in every sense of the word.

People usually come here to hike up the hills, dressed in their gear and all. But I wasn’t about to risk tumbling down the mountain, nor was I seeking to make my way up and then promptly conveniently forgetting to climb down.

I’m sure I would have, because the view is spectacular even from the ground.

I settled for a walk through the woods on the trail. You’ll notice some wooded area by the banks of the loch. If I read the sign correctly, it’s an ongoing ecological project.

A long walk through the woods isn’t just good exercise, but it’s also a very nice escape from, well, everything else. Here, I was all alone, the silence punctuated only by the occasional chirping bird, and the crunch of the ice beneath my feet.

There were clearings with great views over the Loch. Perfect for the camera toting person, or to reflect on your life.

If you wake up early enough, you can probably manage one whole round around the Loch; Alternatively just a 3/4 way lap would do if it’s getting dark.

Or maybe you could just keep staring at the mountains in the distance, reflected on the still waters of the Loch.

Sunsets are spectacular here I’m sure, especially when the clouds don’t blanket every inch of the sky. But when they do, you’re treated instead to nature’s attempt at a pastel pink-themed art project.

The walk back in the dimming light is safe enough, with the only danger being the odd patch of un-melted ice. I would know. I slipped on a patch under the bright bright sky.

Maybe, if you’re lucky enough, when you look up towards the hills a short distance in front of you, you will see the silhouette of a Stag, his head of antlers unmistakable, observing the odd human making its way down the trail.

I saw him. He was magnificent, even in the dying light.

Although, I must say I’m glad he was quite some distance away. I don’t quite fancy dealing with a half frightened Stag.

Those antlers seem nasty.