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SCOTLAND


Look at a map of the British railway network. You will see for the most part it’s a tangle of mainlines and branchlines: a mesh stitched in a way to serve most corners of the island. Direct your gaze north, and you see the Scottish Highlands is an exception. It’s served by only a few lonely lines, trailing away from the rest of the network like loose threads from a ball of wool. Two of these threads — the West Highland Line and the Highland Main Line — wander in parallel north, come tantalisingly close to knotting together, then unspool in opposite directions. Between them is a blank expanse where no rails pass. A place where none of the cartographer’s ink was spent. I had long seen this part of the map — the


space between the lines — and regarded it as something rather like a gulf to be bridged. But in the 22-mile divide between Corrour station on the West Highland Line and Dalwhinnie station on the Highland Main Line, there is no public transport, no public roads. Nor are there marked footpaths that fully connect the two stations. Rather there lies some of the roughest, most remote terrain in Western Europe, a crossing obstructed by hulking mountains and passes of famous treachery. To make the crossing between those lines entails a two- to three-day expedition through the wild heart of the Highlands. A journey that must partly be done on two rails, partly on two feet.


88 NATIONALGEOGRAPHIC.COM/TRAVEL


We were a team of two: myself and my friend


Al. We first planned to make the crossing in early autumn — when leaves were reddening and stags rutting. Delays saw the trip pushed into November, when deer herds descended from the mountains, and the first frosts snuck into the glens. By the time our expedition set out, winter was making an unscheduled early arrival. Rime ice wreathed lineside fences. Heavy snowfall was timetabled to arrive soon after our northbound train.


Northbound through the night One spring night in 1873, the UK’s first sleeper service departed from London King’s Cross for Glasgow. A ‘sleeper’ train was an idea stolen from the United States — advertisements subsequently billed them as ‘The Most Interesting Route to Scotland’, offering a chance to ‘Travel in your Pyjamas’. The fortunes of sleepers waxed and waned over the following 150 years — victims of faster daytime trains and budget airlines, and easy prey to the politician’s axe. The modern Caledonian Sleeper departing from Platform One of London Euston station is a rare inheritor of this Victorian tradition. It takes much the same route as the 1873 sleeper, and retains some of its predecessor’s magic. In the dining car there is a foretaste of


Scotland: haggis and Tunnock’s caramel logs on the menu, and seven single malt whiskies


From left: The visitor book and fireplace at remote Ben Alder Cottage; descending from Ben Alder into the pass of Bealach Dubh Previous pages: Setting out from Corrour station towards Loch Ossian, with Bealach Dubh on the horizon and the Ben Alder massif to its right


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