Chapter 7.1 Giants in the Forest: Lies and ignorance

There are many reasons why Nethy Bridge has become the climax of my tour to chase the Giants in the Forest. It is the furthest north that I am going to cycle - although that is not literally true. It has got a train line that still has steam engines - although there isn't actually a working station in the village. It is a tourist destination (the hotel remains the most impressive building) - although the golden years might have passed.

The small matter of this being the furthest north that I cycled: I am thinking of a metaphorical north. You know, mountains, desolate plains, barren fields, the mythical Scotland that turns up on the posters in America. It's the furthest north in so far as I know that a puncture here is going to be a problem: Forres might have the geographical edge (let's face it, a quick look at the map proves this is more vile nonsense), but Nethy has the atmosphere, the romance...

Besides that, Forres' Heads were in a patch of forest in the middle of a housing estate. It was beautiful, and saying that makes it sound as if I were in a bit of shrub, just off the main road. But even though I did manage to get lost in this patch, I came out fairly quickly into 'civilisation.' I ended up on the other side of the estate, but I wasn't likely to die of exposure.

And this is where the romantic notion of nature comes into my writing. Nature is at its most beautiful when it looks as if it might kill me. I spend an evening wandering around the various paths in the Nethy Bridge forest (quite a few are closed off, as they reset the soil to bear the imprint of other visitors, tramping the wilderness). There are houses in the woods. I feel like I am at the edge of civilisation. Humans are retreating, the trees are reclaiming the land and the grand designs of the twentieth century are slinking back into the woodland.

The grand green set out for the Highland Games, reputedly one of the oldest in Scotland, is like a last gasp of human resistance to the inevitable return of the Green Man. Even I can spot how the valley has been ground out by a glacier, thousands of years ago, providing a flat, wet expanse for the trees to grow. I hunch down, pretending I am a neolithic man. I bet this landscape hasn't changed for thousands of years...

"Here, in the water, you can spot the remains of the water mill. You know, a century ago, this was like a factory, a tree factory. Haven't you noticed the regularity of the trees? And this was all grazing land, too. None of the trees are thick enough to be that old..."