I found myself on the banks of Loch Lomond this weekend, en-route to Glencoe.
British travel writer, Henry Vollam Morton, who certainly pre-dates the hell out of me, once described Loch Lomond as follows:
What a large part of Loch Lomond’s beauty is due to its islands, those beautiful green tangled islands, that lie like jewels upon its surface.
The problem of course is that the weather is often terrible, and sometimes the islands aren’t even visible, let alone green. But what kind of camera-toting travel nut would I be if I couldn’t salvage a rained out visit to one of the most famous places in Scotland? And what kind of former San Francisco resident would I be if I couldn’t find beauty in a wall of fog?
O, swimming at the pier
is probably a bad idea
most days of the year.