Tilda Swinton

Oh, Tilda.

At first, mad to recover the tang of height, I made always for the summits, and would not take time to explore the recesses.

But late one September, I went on Brerich with a man who knew the hill better than I did then, and he took me aside into Corra and Loughan.

One could not have asked a fitter day for the first vision of this rare loch.

The equinoctial storms had been severe.

Snow that hardly ever fails to powder the plateau about the third week of September had fallen close and thick.

But now the storms had passed, the air was keen and buoyant, with a brilliancy as of ice, the waters of the Loch were frost-cold to the fingers.

And how still, how incredibly withdrawn and tranquil.

Climb as often as you will, Loch Korra and Lochen remains incredible.

It cannot be seen until one stands almost on its lip, but only height hides it.

Was there something wrong with your salad, Alejandro?

It's just I can't help noticing that they neglected to hold the cheese as we specifically asked them to.

We did, and this young gentleman cannot eat cheese.

You tell him.

He's allergic.

Well, that's not what we want.

Fetch somebody else who would say something different.

Oh, you're going to hold us hostage now?