Glaswegian taxi-driver Tam and his chum Archie, entertained me with hearty bonhomie, and introduced me to some of the macabre history of the region. There is a small ruin in the field next door which apparently was used to imprison the 300 unfortunates who would shortly become the victims of the 1647 massacre.
The wind and rain started mid-morning, so I've decamped to Campbeltown by bus, there to buy groceries, reading material (as a prophylactic against cabin fever), and sit in a warm, dry, restaurant, updating the blog and surreptitiously recharging various bits of electronics. Alas, Campbells the Chandlers have sold the last remaining VHF handset within several days' paddle of here.
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