We had travelled the Affric River from its source and now it took us past the Dog and the Badger Falls, on one of the more pleasant tarmac rides of my life, down to Cannich and its indispensable general store. We were winding down, was it all over? No! From Cannich, bearing north east, on the east bank of the River Glass, many miles of quiet, oh! so satis fying riverside travel took us towards Inverness. En route, during a river bank, feet-dangling, flask-emptying tea stop conversation with an old, Scot tish fly fisherman we were told that “Here is Scotland”, not in Edinburgh or wherever