The doubt that comes to mind in the Highlands when faced with such wonders as Glenfinnan — is this for real? — always arises when recalling the enchanted coastal village Glenelg. ‘Does Glenelg exist?’ seems an almost reasonable thought when away from the place. ‘Did I ever see those colours, that light, the Sound of Sleat and the distant islands? Was that golden eagle a dream?’
Part of the reason is that Glenelg is removed, beyond, even otherworldly in location. As close as the Scottish mainland gets to the Isle of Skye, Glenelg can only be reached (from April to October) via the island (and the world’s last sea-going, hand-operated turntable ferry which takes six cars) or by the road over Ratagan which still follows the path taken by Boswell and Johnson in 1773.
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