Wednesday 30 October 2013--Leave Plockton at 10:30. Stop at the Commando Memorial outside Fort William. The commandos--I guess we'd
call them special forces now--were created in World War II for the purpose of conducting missions demanding particular skill and daring.
It's raining when I take a break in Fort William, of course. Heavy rain all the way to Glasgow. Check in at the same hotel I stayed at last week, and go for dinner at Tennents. I'm hoping to find a pub that will be showing the sixth game of the World Series. Tennents is a likely candidate as a sports pub, but it closes at 11:00 (the game starts at midnight here). Ņran Mór is open until 3:00, but has no TVs. I give up and go to bed with my laptop open to ESPN's Gamecast, and check in on it as I nod in and out. It's like a Pong-era video game, and it's rather surreal watching a silent representation of Shane Victorino's bases-clearing wall-ball double, knowing that Fenway Park must be sheer bedlam. The game ends, the Sox are champs, and I am quiet and distant witness.