A few days off, and I'm back in business. No ankle problems today. As a result, the cycling is much more enjoyable. The previous two days had been a slow climb into the Scottish Highlands. Today was a white-knuckled ride down the other side.
Though I was blissfully unaware of it at the time, my camera had somehow switched into a mode where film only advanced one third the distance it should have. Meaning that many of the negatives are a confusing jumble of images. Just visible on the left of this unintentional collage is a bizarre concrete bridge over the river Findhorn. Made in the 1920s, it doesn't seem to make any structural sense. There must be a story behind it, but I don't know what it is.
[Update: Found this slide buried in a Shockwave presentation (owenwilliams.co.uk). Still not much wiser.]
That's not just any train, it's the Caledonian sleeper, crossing the Culloden Viaduct en route from Inverness to London. The same train I took two weeks ago to start this trip. Note the omnipresent sheep in the foreground.
a.k.a. Capital of the Highlands...
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