Looking at my own past

The outdoor exhibition of aerial photos from across the UK that is currently up all over central Edinburgh includes views that must strike chords with different people, bringing back personal memories. As well as the views of Edinburgh, I was drawn to this one, up in the Grassmarket, looking down the near perfect glacial valley of Glen Tilt in the Scottish Highlands. I've only been there the once, but it remains in the memory. Back in May 1979, after our last O Grade exam but before classes started up again, my friend C and I planned a three day trip through the glen from north to south.

The idea was to start near Braemar at Linn of Dee and then walk to Loch Tilt and camp the night. Then a leisurely day before setting off and camping again somewhere further down the Glen, before getting to Blair Atholl on the afternoon of the third day and catching a train home. Day one went well and we did indeed camp on the shore of Loch Tilt. We woke up on day two to rain on the tent.
Which continued.
We waited, hoping it would ease off.
It continued.
So eventually we decided there was nothing for it but to take the tent down in the rain and set off and see where we got to. We walked back down to the track on the valley floor and continued on our way.
In the rain.

There is a an old suspension bridge at the Falls of Tarf I remember crossing - although I had to look it up online to find its story. Apparently there is a sign on it that says "This bridge was erected in 1888 with funds contributed by his friends and others and by the Scottish Rights of Way Society Ltd to commemorate the death of Francis John Bedford, aged 18, who was drowned near here on 25th August 1879".

Anyway a short distance after the falls it's into the classic section of the Glen featured in the photograph in this blip. On our trip the rain got heavier as we continued on, and reaching the sort of point we had planned to camp for the second night we both decided setting up the tent in the wet would be dismal and decided to head on for Blair Atholl. We eventually got there and took refuge in the station waiting room. I seem to remember we'd missed the last train of the day but C managed to persuade his Dad to come and pick us up, rather than us having to find somewhere to stay the night.

Given what has happened this week it is interesting to think that this was the middle of May 1979, a couple of week's after Thatcher's first General Election victory.
And one last thing, I discovered a blog written by someone who must have been in my sister's class in primary school. This guy is building up a "Memory Blog" although he doesn't seem to have posted for a while.

To quote his 'about': "It is, if you like, the autobiography of someone who is never likely to be asked to write an autobiography. The order in which posts appear is entirely random, determined by a combination of factors known as 'what do I want to write about today?', 'what important thing happened today?' and 'what's left in the memory bank at the moment?'. It is, literally, all of my memories, written as I remember them"

Interesting. I wonder if I should consider similar.
Or perhaps there is a bit of that going on anyway.