12-13 October: A taste of Scotland’s east coast

Author: Mrs A

Location: Helmsdale, Dunrobin Castle (Golspie), Fortrose and Eaglesham, Scotland, UK

We woke up to an unusual phenomenon in our pub carpark – sunlight streaming through the windows. Excited, we packed up and drove down to the harbour for a look around the tiny fishing village of Helmsdale. Although sunny, it was a fresh 7°centigrade, so we still wrapped warm, but really appreciated the break in the heavy cloud and showers and the drop in the wind.

Helmsdale fishing harbour – apparently salmon is common here
A beautifully calm morning
The birds were happy too – this little European Robin hunting for insects around the fishing gear
As well as a pair of Rock Pitpits

We were unsure how long the fine weather would last, the best forecast being to look out of your window and see what’s happening! So we turned south and followed the coast a short way to Dunrobin Castle, a stately home that has been continuously inhabited (and still is) for the past 700 years.

The route south was extremely picturesque

One thing we noticed immediately as we drove was the slight change in vegetation, with more shrubs and small trees along the road, something that has been absent from our views since we were on the isles of Skye and Harris/Lewis, and even there they were rare.

Apparently Scotland used to be covered in far more woodland, but over the past 300 years has experienced a lot of deforestation – so much that now only 4% of Scotland has trees. Much of the clearing was for sheep grazing, deemed fear more profitable than trees, and then there were the Victorians who bought up great swathes of the highlands to use for hunting grouse and deer – they burned the hills to discourage trees and encourage heather, far easier for hunting. And finally, there are all the grazing animals – the sheep, cattle and deer themselves, all loving to chew on a seedling tree, ensuring it will never make it to fully grown.

As we turned into the driveway at Dunrobin Castle, we saw trees galore, lined up welcoming us towards the grand house.

Welcome to Dunrobin…many royal carriages have driven this same path over the centuries
Our one room home (ok 2 including the bathroom) versus the 189 room castle

Mr A with his sore sprained ankle settled down with a cup of tea and a good book while I jumped out for an explore. The castle was not yet open to visitors, so I headed into the adjoining woodland, following paths and stairways through the mossy trees, enjoying the delicious autumnal aroma of decaying leaves, and the gentle rustle of the sea breeze through the beech trees.

It feels forever since we walked through woodland

Next I followed a path which wound steeply down past the castle, leading to the seafront. Dunrobin Castle looks out at the North Sea, eerily calm on this Saturday morning.

This has been home to the Sutherland Clan since the 1300s – home to Earls and later the Dukes of Sutherland
Looking up at the stately home from the beachfront…you certainly know your place as a peasant when seeing a house like this
No sand on this beach, but a calm bay from which to launch a boat, and some coastal walking tracks for those not hobbling on sore ankles

The castle has been amended over the centuries, with the architect of London’s Houses of Parliament amongst others who have influenced its design. It looks to me like a French Château – and would not seem out of place along the Loire Valley.

The exterior of the castle and grounds having piqued my interest, I checked Mr A was ok, before buying my ticket for an explore inside. The grand entrance hall with its roaring open fire is very welcoming.

A comfy seating area covered in the Sutherland tartan invites visitors to warm up by the fire

Unlike many historical buildings and castles, this house did not feel sterile and cold, museum like. Instead it was set up to feel like a home, as though you were a guest invited to stay, admire the little trinkets and souvenirs saved over the centuries.

Walking up the stairs you first enter a hallway and then a billiards room. You can almost hear the clink of whiskey glasses being enjoyed over a game or two in the room. A little typewriter written poem framed in a corner caught my eye:

The Batchelor’s Wish

One female companion to soften my cares

Two thousand a year to support my affairs

Three dogs and a gun when to sport I incline

Four horses and chaise to indulge me and mine

Five jolly companions with whom to make merry

Six dishes each day with six glasses of sherry

Seven beds in my house for my friends at their leisure

Eight somethings or other to add to their pleasure

Nine pounds in my pocket when cash I require

These favours are all that on Earth I desire, and a

Passport to heaven when from Earth I retire.

Gentleman’s Monthly Intelligencer, 1778

I wonder what the equivalent bachelor’s wish would be in 2019? And I wonder what the somethings or other are….?

I moved on through to the dining room, set up with the family silver all ready for a fine dinner party for 10.

A cosy dining room, wood panelling and artwork setting off the gleaming silver

On next to the music room, beautiful ornate ceilings and perfectly cared for showcases full of gifts, donations and collectables from throughout the centuries.

The music room

I was tickled to spot a slipper once belonging to General Garibaldi and left behind after a visit. I can imagine some excited maid trotting up to the Duke to present this, before getting it mounted to display in a cabinet! It has to be the first slipper I have seen on display in a long while…

The attention to detail in each room is unlike anything you would see today – the coats of arms, the polished brass cats presenting the fire, the immaculately dust and soot free marble fireplaces.

These polished brass cats are on each fireplace
Pictures depicting Italy are in many rooms, a country the family travelled to frequently. Tapestries adorn many of the walls, alongside family portraits and those of visitors to the house.
Hunting was clearly a favoured sport, with deer heads on the walls around the hallways, mounted on plaques naming the shooter, and here in the library, fierce looking lion and tiger skin rugs on the floor…rather uncomfortable to look at today, but part of history all the same.
This room was decorated in the 1960s in recognition of Queen Elizabeth II visiting – the tapestries on the wall were commissioned especially for the occasion.
The green and gold bedroom
From the outside the castle appears to be of one design, but when you glimpse the interior courtyard you can see the different towers and bricks used
The night nursery – furniture all brought from Italy

In the older part of the castle we came across the Seamstress’s Room, also known as ‘the haunted room’. Nobody living today has seen or heard the ghost here, but stories go back to the 1500s. The story goes that in the 15th century the Earl of Sutherland captured and imprisoned a beautiful young woman from a rival clan, with plans to marry her. She tried to escape by climbing down a rope of sheets, but the Earl on discovering her trying to escape, swiped the sheets with his sword and she fell to her death.

In more recent times, footsteps have been frequently heard in another part of the castle, when there are no people present…so they have a ghost with no story, and a story with no ghost…

The Seamstress’s Room – Hoped to capture an apparition in my picture, but I can’t spot anything. Can you?
Looking out of the windows you can see out to sea across the formal gardens
There are falconry displays in the summer months – finished for the year at the end of September so not for us this time.

There is also a museum on site containing many collections from over the centuries, swords, more hunting trophies and other trinkets, but I felt I had left Mr A long enough, so missed it out and returned to Truffy so we could be on our way.

The landscape continued to evolve as we headed south, with our first agricultural farming for a while, all with a fabulous backdrop of cliffs and woodland.

New colours entering our landscape
One of many flocks of birds we spotted practicing their formation, readying for flying south for the winter….

Our destination for the night was a caravan park near the small settlement of Fortrose, on the banks of the Moray Firth, across from Inverness. Unlike Dunrobin Castle the wind was whistling across the water, making it quite fresh. We hibernated in Truffy for the afternoon while a machine did our washing.

Truffy has a front row seat for sunset, and the waves on the beach soothe us to sleep
Sunset over Fortrose

Sunday morning was clear and sunny, and the wind had dropped off to make it a rather pleasant temperature. We decided to move on our way however, with the wet weather forecast to return.

Before we left the area we drove up to Chanonry Point, home to a lighthouse and also a favoured feeding place for seals, bottle nosed dolphins and porpoises.

The lighthouse looking magnificent in the early morning sunlight
Mist across the water at dawn

As soon as we pulled up I spotted a dorsal fin, either a dolphin or porpoise, but it soon dipped under the water and didn’t reemerge. It was a seal we saw most of, as it popped its head out of the water and gave us all a good look on the shore before dipping under and chasing breakfast.

That floating log in the foreground is in fact a seal

We stayed a short while to watch the seal, before heading off. As predicted, the fine weather didn’t hang around, and it wasn’t long before we were back in familiar rain. A good driving day, we decided, and another opportunity for Mark to rest his ankle.

We drove a good 320km (200 miles) to just south of Glasgow, spending our final night in Scotland for this trip on the UK’s largest wind farm, Whitelee near the village of Eaglesham. We hoped to have a peaceful night’s sleep on the carpark here, in an area well known for badgers, owls and other wildlife.

Whitelee Windfarm at dawn on Monday morning…

9-11 October: North Scotland

Author: Mr A

Location: Kinlochbervie, Durness and Helmsdale, Highlands, Scotland

Wednesday: We continued our jaunt up the west coast of Scotland, on yet another wild, wet and windy day. Its actually hard to imagine seeing these hills with blue skies, I just don’t think it would it would look right.

Our first treat of the day was having sight of our first large wild mammals in the UK. A trio of deer ran across the road and sloshed their way over the moor, but not before giving us an inquisitive look as if to say “What on earth are you doing voluntarily out in this weather? We have no choice!”.

A beautiful hind crossed in front of us and stopped on top of the hill for a good look
A couple of stags crossing the highlands in hot pursuit
They dashed in front of us and easily leaped this fence

One of the absolute joys of motorhoming is the ability to stop on any levelish piece of ground and produce an amazing lunch in the middle of nowhere. Today was another feast with perfectly poached eggs (you know when the yolk just flows over your toast in an ooze rather than a flood ….or even worse, horror of horrors, won’t flow at all) and locally caught and honey smoked salmon. A freshly brewed Pukka fennel tea rounded it off.

We decided we really should don the rain gear and head out to stretch the legs. Driving around Loch Assynt, we spy a “Catherine-size” dinky castle alongside. We just make it to the ruined pile of rocks as yet another rain squall belts sideways at us. We retreat to Truffy and continue on our way up the west coast.

An old ruin of an 18th century house across Loch Assynt
On Loch Assynt, Ardvreck Castle sits proud, Built 1590 by the Clan MacLeod it has witnessed many battles and important moments in history
The heavy rain transforms the cliffs into dozens of thundering waterfalls
And view after view opens up in front of us as we drive

My co-pilot has identified a stop over at the small fishing village of Kinlochbervie, where the community has put in some motorhome services right on the edge of the harbour. Check out our view for the night!

A million dollar view for the equivalent of $30
Spot Truffy across the bay

It’s interesting how some communities see the potential for bringing a bit more cash into town, and others just put up “no overnight parking” signs. There really isn’t a lot to spend your money on in town though. A Spar corner shop and a pub. It will do us nicely.

The community differentiates their home town as being the most northerly port in Scotland, and apparently was shortlisted by the Oxford Dictionary as a definition of remote. Well by UK standards I would agree, but by Australian standards, it’s practically next door to everything, with a good mobile signal, shop, pub, fishing port, 240 power, sewerage system, surfaced roads…and only 60 miles to the nearest decent supermarket. Call that remote?

A busy fishing port sending their catch all over the UK

Thursday: Kinlochbervie to Durness

We had another wild weather night of howling wind and lashing rain, but were tucked up tight, and in the grey light of morning we were off along the top of Scotland.

Amazing light as the sun breaks through the clouds…
Couldn’t decide which image worked best….! So included both
Truffy showing his mean and moody side
First glimpse of the North Atlantic Ocean in the distance

We needed to get out for a stomp as the forecast was only “light showers and moderate winds” (a good one for Scotland!). We parked up at Durness Golf club, who’s claim to fame is being the most northerly golf course on the UK mainland, and also the furthest north we would be going on our trip this time.

It was a fabulous walk, one of the best so far, along the towering cliffs of this wild and (relatively!) remote coastline. Now I’m colour blind, but could even recognise that we were somewhere quite special. Check out these shots from my camera wielding maestro of the lens.

We were the only hikers on this 12km circuit
Tea break in the dunes
Beautiful colours and patterns in the rocks which are among the oldest in the UK
The crashing surf and white sand beaches contrast with the dark rock
Mrs A setting off along the coast
Some bits of the path were narrow and quite steep
Fabulous beach worthy of Western Australia with some rare sunshine glimmers
Continuing our track around
Ruins of an old school – in its heyday it had 45 pupils but lost most of those during the Highland Clearances (a period between 1750 and 1860 when people were moved off the land when it was deemed more profitable for sheep grazing)
The sun breaks through towards the end of our walk
Ruins of an old church…
Spot Truffy in the distance? 11km (7 miles) is the longest we’ve walked before breakfast in a while! We’re relieved to be back, a bacon and egg sandwich is calling our names…

In the distance we heard a huge boom, and I had remembered reading that there’s an island off shore that has the misfortune to be around the same size as an aircraft carrier, so becomes target practice for our and our Allies’ armed forces. It’s quite funny reading that there’s a “conservation society” formed to “protect” the island’s flora and fauna. Nothing the odd massive bomb can’t put right I hope!

Back at Truffy we (I use that term loosely) knocked up the usual cracking lunch from on board supplies, and headed off to find a park for the night. We thought it was going to be the cutely named Smoo Cave Hotel, but the landlord was having a bad day when I asked if it was OK to park overnight and come and have dinner (or I looked a bit rough round the edges after a few days off the grid) and so we made other plans. The pub cat, meanwhile, was far more welcoming and our first Scottish feline to come and say hi.

This little tortoiseshell girl cannot get enough cuddles

Before we moved on, we checked out the cave the pub was named after. Smoo Cave was a haunt of Vikings, smugglers, murderers, and general nefarious carrying on, it was quite a geological as well as cultural marvel.

The picturesque way down to Smoo Cave
At 50ft (15.24 metres) high, this cave boasts one of the highest sea cave entrances in the UK
Entrance is free, but there are often tours – not on this occasion – cancelled due to heavy rain (ha ha)
A river thunders down through the roof of the cave in a roaring waterfall

Interest assuaged, we left Durness and found another car park with a view. The rain lashed down, a familiar pattern, thank goodness we have a motorhome that doesn’t leak, unlike some we read about on our forums.

Our fabulous view of Ceannabeinne Beach

Friday: Durness to Helmsdale

We had a longish day of driving ahead, as we planned to point Truffy’s nose south and head down for east coast though a wonder-world of massive peat bogs, apparently the thickness of a double decker bus! Now that will keep a few home fires burning for a while.

Weaving around yet another stunning loch, and past some old lime works
Our daily sighting of a stag…

We needed to find a service point to dump waste water, take on fresh, and empty the loo. Unfortunately whilst carrying said toilet cassette, I didn’t notice the gravel slope, my ankle rolled and I fell down in an ungainly heap, but at least with the presence of mind to batt away the rather full toilet which was bouncing around near my head!

We called in to a doctor’s surgery in the village. The doctor had just gone home for the day, but drove back in to see me – it’s not a big village, but even so, pretty good service. He assessed and said there was no need for an x-ray, just tendon damage, strapped me up and off I went, limping like an old crock!

Before long we turned right and off the North Coast 500, heading south-east. I think our windscreen wipers are going to be worn out by the time we leave Scotland, although it sounds like its not much better in England. It was a wet drive, and although we stopped briefly to check out the Forsinard Flows, an RSPB wetland area. I stayed indoors with my foot up, while Catherine headed out. She returned after 20 minutes looking cold and wet having seen no birds, and we pressed on.

Pulling away from Forsinard
A spectacular drive through the River Helmsdale Valley, there was rain, sun and rainbows…

We had an overnight destination in mind, the Bannockburn Inn, featured on one of our apps as being “motorhome friendly” and encouraging free overnight parking in exchange for buying dinner. Well this one actually was friendly, from the moment Catherine walked in and was treated by the landlady like a long lost friend. She was from Brighton mind…and the evening just got better with the best fish and chip supper we’ve had on the trip…and curry sauce and mushy peas, washed down with some local gins. Apparently gin is very good for repairing tendons…

The Bannockburn Inn – recommended for delicious food and a wide selection of Scottish gin

6-8 October: Working our way up the wild and wooly north-west coast

Author: Mrs A

Location: Ullapool and Altandhu, north-west Scotland, UK

After driving off the ferry from the Isle of Lewis, we turned right and drove a few hundred metres along the road to The Royal Hotel, a pub with a large car park and electrical hook up points available to motorhomes for a token payment of £10.

The Royal Hotel – there is always (some) blue sky in Scotland (briefly!)
The view from the hotel across Loch Broom and the rugged mountains beyond

After getting set up, we went into the pub for dinner. There we met a lovely Canadian couple on holiday from the USA who had just finished travelling the route around the north coast of Scotland. They were happy to share their tips for places to visit, and in return we helped them with some ideas for their upcoming trip to Australia. It was a fun evening and we enjoyed a meal and bottle of wine together.

Weather-wise, it was a rough night, with the wind blowing up to gale force, rocking us from side to side, inter dispersed with torrential rain. Neither of us slept well, with Mr A Googling in the wee hours ‘how easy it is for a motorhome to be blown over?’ (answer: not easy unless you’re on a hill or already unstable). The ferries over to and from the Isle of Lewis were cancelled due to the rough conditions making us grateful we’d left when we did.

We decided to stay in Ullapool a second night, with the village being the largest settlement we’re likely to come across for quite some time. We took our sheets, towels and some clothes to a local laundromat to be washed, and dodged the showers wandering around some of the many little shops and cafes, finding a great spot for lunch.

The afternoon rewarded us with lengthier dry spells so we pulled on our hiking gear and did a walk that started behind the pub. It was short but fairly steep, taking us up to 250 metres (824 ft) with some fabulous views. Up the top it was very windy, and we watched the clouds gathering over the loch ready to give us another good soaking.

Plenty of benches on the walk up to enjoy the view
Definitely appreciated when breathing is misbehaving
The landscape changes as we move on up the highlands, fewer trees, more heather and low lying hardy shrubs
The higher we hike, the windier it gets, but the views keep on rewarding
Just about at the top now and the sky is getting darker – time to speed on down before the rain gets us!

Tuesday morning we moved on our way, calling in at the last small supermarket, pharmacy and smokehouse (!) we would see for a while. Our destination was the tiny settlement of Altandhu.

The hills disappear under another rain storm on our drive up the coast
Silvery lochs surrounded by mountains on every corner
Looking out across the Summer Isles as we travel down the road to Altandhu

Altandhu is a tiny hamlet on the coast, looking out over the Summer Isles. It is described as being virtually untouched for the past 40 years, and driving down the windy single track roads, it felt quite familiar after our travels around the islands last week.

Little Altandhu on the north east coast

We pulled up at our campground in strong wind and rain, wondering what on earth we were doing. But as always, a break in the weather soon had us appreciating the spectacular scenery that is uniquely Scottish.

The view from our camp spot
Look carefully and you will see Truffy parked down by the beach!

Checking in we learned that the Port a Baigh campground shop was in fact the only store for the whole area, and it’s pretty well stocked up with groceries. Apparently before this shop opened, local residents had to drive at least a two hour return trip into Ullapool to get their litre of milk.

Sensing a break in the rain, we pulled on our wet weather gear and went for an explore. We walked down to the next bay, Old Dornie.

The locals aren’t too used to seeing people walking, and voice their disapproval
Water water everywhere…wish we could send some of this to drought stricken Australia
Traffic jam on the road
Heading down to the bay…grateful for the waterproof overtrousers!
Three old ladies out for a stroll
Stopping for a cup of tea with a fine view
Watching the next storm rolling in over The Haven
Years’ of fishing equipment on the shore

We actually learned that some changes are afoot in the area, after the largest of the Summer Isles, Tanera Mor, was purchased in 2017 by London businessman Ian Wace and his wife Saffron. In 2018 they commenced plans to rejuvenate the island, building luxurious holiday accomodation for up to 60 guests, utilising existing buildings and renovating other structures on the island. The project is taking around four years to complete, and as a result has breathed substantial life into the area.

Many of the tradespeople are being housed locally, and the little bay we walked to was a ferrying point for many of the materials and personnel. The lady running the campground shop told us she had joined her partner on a tour of some of the properties, marvelling at the brass baths…it sounds intriguing!

We decided to book in at the local pub for dinner, the Am Fuaran Bar. This was a short walk from the campground and housed in an old 1800s renovated building. The late father of one of the publicans used to live in the house, and the pub is full of photographs and memorabilia. It was warm and cosy and absolutely buzzing with locals and tradespeople from the Tanera Mor project. We had a delicious meal – a beef pie for Mr A and delicious locally caught langoustines for me (cross between a small lobster and a large king prawn). Finally, the pub we have been looking for!

Sunset was a lovely if brief affair
Finally the quintessential Scottish friendly pub with great food

4-6 October: A jaunt around the Outer Hebrides

Author: Mr A

Location: The Isles of Harris and Lewis, Outer Hebrides, Scotland, UK

The Outer Hebrides…I just like saying the name as it conjures up in my mind images of being really “out there”. Actually the reality is a bit different, but still very appealing.

We watched from the top deck of the ferry as the island of Harris appeared and our tiny debarkation point of Tarbert. Now, firstly lets clear something up. The island of Harris is joined to the island of Lewis. They aren’t seperate islands but are referred to as seperate. Make sense? No, didn’t to us either. There are various explanations given, like different clans distinguishing their own territory, or the geography in that a range of mountains makes access between the two difficult, or at least used to. We quite happily pottered from one to the other. So with that muddy water stirred up let me just add that the Outer Hebrides is sometimes called the Western Isles, and the main reason you might have heard of Harris (Harris Tweed) is mostly made in Lewis. All clear now?

So Harris is split geographically into the quite bumpy North Harris and the flatter South Harris. We were sort of in the middle when we landed at the dinky ferry port of Tarbert. So how do people in Tarbert explain where they live? “Well I’m in the middle of North and South Harris, in the Harris end of Harris and Lewis in the Outer Hebrides come Western Isles”? Perplexing…

Harris in red to the south, and Lewis to the north

I had called ahead to book us dinner at the Harris Hotel, using my usual gambit to secure a free night’s accomodation of “So we’d like to book dinner, but as we are travelling in a motorhome I wonder if you could advise of anywhere to stay within walking distance. We intend to order a decent bottle of red and are not keen to drive”. I know Tarbert doesn’t have a campsite. I got the response I was hoping for. “Well we have a large car park, feel free to use that if you would like”. Sorted…and £25 saved towards that bottle of red.

But our first stop was metres from the ferry point, the Harris Distillery. This imposing looking building was made possible through the combination of EU grants and the backing of a Scots born ex CEO of Monsanto. His US$77 million payout might have helped. You would assume a distillery in Scotland produces whiskey…nope..its gin. Gin has made them profitable in these gin fuelled times. They are distilling whiskey, but its not available for sale yet. We loved the gin. Apparently its differentiator is the sugar kelp (yup, seaweed) infused in their copper gin still, and gathered by a virgin diver (poetic license) from the pristine waters around the island. Great to see a business like this doing well in such a geographically remote corner of the UK.

One bottle of Harris Gin thank you very much…in fact we ended up buying two!
A modern tasting room inside a building that used to be a church
One of the distillers – clearly a cat lover so he deserves to be included here!

Well our dinner at the Harris Hotel was absolutely gorgeous, everything that had been missing on Skye. A friendly barmaid welcomed us, the atmosphere was cosy, and the food….scrumptious. After a quick perusal of the menu, with no conferring, we both as usual made exactly the same choices. Too much time together harmonising our tastes? Locally caught herring for entree, followed by the plumpest scallops I’ve ever seen, with locally grown veg that tasted like it had been dug up that afternoon. What a feast. Our first meal out since Edinburgh. We tried hard to eat out in Skye but nothing tempted.

Look at the size of those scallops! Delicious!

The one time we went out in Skye intending to eat, the barmaid (we later learned also licensee) was so rude we had one beer and left. Disappointing…but Harris delivered in spades. I wonder why Skye was so poor? Other friends who visited had said the same. Too many visitors and not enough incentive to try hard? Who knows…

The next morning we headed off to explore South Harris, known for its spectacular sandy beaches. Apparently an advert for a Thailand holiday destination was caught using a shot of one of them. They were beautiful, but we only had to step out from behind the glass of our windscreen into the biting wind to be very clear we were not anywhere that either of us was going to be going for a paddle.

Incredible colours, you can see the inspiration for the Harris Tweed
There are more wooly residents on these islands than people
One of the many magical views
Just birds on these untouched beaches, perfection

We stopped to buy some home made mustard from a roadside stall, then paused in amazement when we saw the price. £6.50 (AU$12)for 200ml jar! I’m all for supporting local businesses but hard to feel that was value for money, so sorry mustard maker, we will make do with the beautiful small batch seeded mustard we brought in France for a quarter of that price.

Down at the most southerly point of Harris – we wondered what life is like for the residents of this little house with a fine view
Peat bogs are plentiful and there is much evidence of it being dug for fuel…here on an estuary it looks like little islands
As the rain and wind sets in for the afternoon and we head north, the scenery changes
More atmospheric scenery as we head in to Lewis

The edge of the bad weather that has been drenching the UK caught us, the rain came down and so we spent longer than usual in the car driving up through the island (islands?) to Lewis. I was keen to visit the standing stones at Calanais, or is it Callanish Standing Stones? They are variously named and spelled differently just to keep us visitors on our toes, even after we have worked out the whole Harris and Lewis thing. Anyway, another one of those mysteries I love, with archeologists mystified about the significance of the location and function of these other circles in the area. In fact this one isn’t even really a circle, but flat on one side. So for 5,000 years the people who have lived here have been trying to mislead and confuse…I like it.

Trying to read the messages of the stones
There is certainly a particular atmosphere here
Are they meant to be seen as giants from the sea, here to scare off the Vikings? Or are they a ceremonial meeting place?
We marvel ant the centuries of stories these stones could tell, if they could only speak

We dutifully watched the video in information centre and left no wiser understanding what the people who once put so much effort into dragging around these stones were trying to do. Its a bleak old place today, and we weren’t outside that long before hot chocolates back at the visitor centre seemed the wise choice.

The site we had been trying to call to confirm a place for the night had not been answering the phone, so we just rocked up to see a closed sign on the signpost! We had checked their web site and Google page – nothing left to warn people. OK we were pissed. How long does it take to record a message on your phone saying “we are closed for the season”, or change your Google Maps entry? Clearly too much effort for these folk. However, there was a free spot marked on one of our apps just down the road, and check out this view!

Our own private car park and beach
The view from our window

We had it all to ourselves while the rain lashed down and the wind howled. Our LPG run heating system got a workout, and a Thai jungle curry from Mrs A warmed us from the inside out and a Harris gin went down a treat.

Our local beach on a morning stroll, Truffy in the background

So another £20 in camp fees saved. We are warm, dry and have enough power from our 12v system to run all we need and can have a lovely hot shower in the morning without venturing across a campground in the cold and wet. I just have the job of emptying our toilet somewhere tomorrow. Not a bad trade for a lovely view and a few extra pounds to spend. In places that don’t have “No overnight camping” signs on every piece of flat land, it is quite lovely.

Our final day in the island of….well lets call it Lewis, although when we arrived in Stornaway this morning, the castle was called Lews Castle. the mystery continues. We have a mooch around the harbour in the drizzle, all rugged up and wondering where all the people are going as there’s not a single place open in town…except the church. Well its been a long time since I’ve witnessed this, people are dressed up in their Sunday best, three piece suits, ties – the lot, and going to a service of some kind. Ah well, each to their own. We make our way down to the ferry wharf and trundle Truffy on. He’s getting to be quite an experienced ferry traveller now!

Stornaway harbour looking colourful on this gloomy Sunday morning
Wrapped up warm against the drizzle but still smiling
We stood and watched a seal fishing in the bay in front of us

Goodbye Outer Hebrides, welcome Western Isles, its been an experience we will always remember, even if they like to keep you guessing out here 🙂

Lewis Castle front and centre as we pull away from the island of Lewis
Our first sight of the mainland of Scotland
We are first vehicle off into port – welcome to Ullapool, Scotland….

30 September – 2 October: Walking in my parents’ footsteps

Author: Mr A

Location: Broadford and Dunvegan, Isle of Skye, Scotland, UK

Scotland…the part of the British Isles that my parents fell in love with and retuned to for so many years of wonderful holidays, bird spotting, walking the hills when they could. To visit here and see some of the same places they must have gazed at in wonderment, as we are, is quite special.

Being stuck behind this truck carrying wood for several miles gave us a chance to admire the scenery

I’m an only child, no brothers or sisters to help keep memories alive, my daughters help me in that regard, but I’d love to just have one more conversation with my parents and ask all the questions I never asked when I thought they’d be here forever.

On the road over from the central highlands to the west coast we rounded a corner and there was this stunning sight to feast our eyes on.

A view that has remained relatively unchanged for hundreds of years
Incredible reflections
Skye is certainly showing us her best side with this incredible clear weather

Did my mum and dad see the same? Sadly I will likely never know, although I will be poring though my mum’s diaries when I go back to Australia. It’s a an evocative moment. Eilean Donan Castle is one of the more photogenic places we have set eyes on, almost rivalling the vista across Lake Bled in Slovenia for having all the ingredients that make us go “oooh”. Dating back to the 13th century, it was built to fight off the Viking invaders, then as a superb defensive position for warring Scottish clans. It even saw a group of Spanish soldiers assisting in the Jacobite rebellions use it as a base. It has been lovingly restored after being left in ruins for several hundred years, and now features in selfies from the coach loads of tourists pulling up to admire its beauty.

We arrived on the Isle of Skye via the road bridge that was opened in ‘95, and I could just hear my dad saying “Look Jill, look at that!”, as he nudged her in the ribs, seeing the soaring peaks of the island’s Cuillin range dropping down into the deep blue waters of the surrounding sea.

Our first view of the bridge and the Isle of Skye in the distance
Crossing over the bridge, wondering whether dad drove this exact same path…

We had identified a campsite on the edge of the small town of Broadford, which straddles along a wide bay and river mouth. It was time to pull on the walking shoes and head for the hills. But first of course the flask needed to be filled. I am clearly walking in my father’s footsteps in this regard as well. At one point he was a 15 cups of tea a day man, a little too much caffeine me thinks…we stick to the caffeine-free herbal variety.

Beautiful views out to sea at every turn
The delicate pink of the ever present heather adds a splash of colour to the green
More lovely views as we reach the next bay
Heading inland through a million shades of green
The next bay around is equally unspoilt
With every cloud the scene changes constantly
Local lady Isabel needed a hand with 15 year old Lucy who decided she wasn’t up for walking any more

The views were out to the mainland and across some small outlying islands, with tiny cottages on them, for fisherfolk I assume. It’s wild and wooly country and we love it. We didn’t strike as lucky though going into town to try and find that stereotype of the welcoming Scottish pub, complete with fiddle player. Instead we found a horrible place with slot machines and widescreen TV showing the football. Ah well…perhaps the next town?

The next day also dawned clear in the morning, apparently its been a very wet late summer, so the locals are finding this showery autumnal weather “quite nice”, wandering round in shirt sleeves when its 10 degrees. Being unused to what feels to us like sub-arctic temperatures we are all rugged up I can tell you. Catherine was busy writing up her notes from the conference she attended, so I grabbed the opportunity to head out on the bike for a ride. And what a ride it was, through scenery that made it one of the more memorable I have ever done.

My little Tinker and the cool but stunning scenery
Love where this little bike can take me

My iPhone and lack of skill with its camera just dont do it justice, and when returning back to Catherine I was so enthusiastic about what I’d seen we agreed to drive it the following morning. Later in the afternoon we took a stroll around the shore of Broadford, apparently the site of a Neolithic settlement (12,000 – 6,500 years ago) and many burial mounds, several dismantled over the years to use the rocks for houses and walls.

Looking out towards a fishing trawler in the bay
I wonder how many people over the past 12,000 years have admired this view
The clouds provide an ever changing scenery

Tuesday morning we retraced my stunning cycling path along the road from Broadford to the isolated road’s end at Glasnakille, a collection of a few houses, tiny primary school and a boat shed offering tours up the coast.

The blue skies belying the freshness of the morning
The Church of Christ (Cille Chriosd) – built in the early 1500s – it was superseded in 1840 and has since fallen to ruin
The single track road with a passing point ahead
The sheep are grateful for their wooly coats, at 10 degrees, it’s quite a brisk autumn day
A lovely spot for a tea break
The wind whistled across the water as we stood and admired the Cuillin Hills
Looking out to Cuillin Sound as we drive down the hill towards Glasnakille
A lovely Robin followed us on our walk through the tiny village
The little white building on the right is the tiny little school – we saw around 6 students chasing around the playground
Mrs A loving the scenery from behind glass!
The sun peeps out from behind a cloud, highlighting the hills for mere seconds before moving on to another location
There’s a bit of slow moving traffic on the road, you cannot be in a rush here

These end-of-the-world places have a magic feel to them. The road was single track, windy with a few unprotected drops into an icy looking ocean, but I’m a lot more confident driving Truffy knowing what he and I can tackle together.

We wandered up the coast, and ended up at the Talisker distillery. Now I’m a fan of bourbon, but have never managed to acquire a liking for that smoky single malt flavour of whiskey, but I keep persevering.

The oldest distillery on the Isle of Skye, Talisker has been here since 1830
Medicinal purposes only, at £55 a bottle we didn’t purchase

We tried a couple, I’m still not convinced, Catherine was pretty neutral as well, so no purchases made.

It was another drive round the coast until we found a campsite in Dunvegan with a lovely view across a loch. A little amble round the village revealed a few places to eat but nothing that really grabbed us, a pattern that’s emerging in Skye.

The walk into Dunvegan from our campground

Well, I hope my parents did see this part of Skye, it really is quite stunning. I’m going to tell myself they did and picture them sharing the pleasure we feel in seeing nature at its most scenic.

Truffy’s home for the night in Dunvegan
Sunset across Loch Dunvegan

28-29 September: Heading north through the Scottish Highlands

Author: Mrs A

Location: The Hermitage, Dunkeld & Invergarry, Scotland

Let me start by saying a huge thank you for all the many messages of support and appreciation after Mr A’s thoughtful and amazing post yesterday. I’m feeling very warm and loved indeed! I had a great time at the conference in Edinburgh, made lots of new contacts and reconnected with those I have met and chatted to before. There’s much more work to be done in the future – I am helping with a couple of research papers and helping give advice to PhD students in the UK and USA working on research studies with iSGS patients…and another conference to attend and present at next year as well – so definitely keeping myself busy in the downtime.

After all the excitement of the conference in Edinburgh we decided to continue on our way, and Saturday morning saw us pointing our nose towards the Isle of Skye. While theoretically we could have driven there in a day, we decided to see some places on the way. I did a little research and found a National Trust place called The Hermitage.

Beautiful shades of green

The Hermitage was created in the early 1800s by a duke who wanted to honour a blind baird. It was part of the designed landscape of Dunkeld extending from the River Tay along the River Braan to Rumbling Bridge, a distance of approximately 1 mile (1.5km). It’s a beautiful woodland area and we read it was accepted for motorhomes to park up here overnight.

We soon leave most of the visitors behind and the path ahead is all ours

We decided to do the 8.5 km circuit walk from the car park. It wound through beautiful woodland of Douglas Fir trees (the tallest trees in the UK) following the River Braan. The river roared alongside us for much of the hike, punctuated by the odd splash which may have been salmon swimming upstream, as they apparently do here at this time of year.

Wonder what the story is with this tree full of money
Beautiful looking fungi…I wonder what is edible
Briefly warm enough for bare arms!
Black Linn Falls
Magnificent rapids
A brief moment of zen
Water plunging over the rocks
Sunshine through the woodland
Water slicing through the countryside
Country lanes
The path crosses through a farm with spectacular views across the green countryside
Getting late in the day
New shoes getting a good workout
Crossing fields
On the return loop
Moss of many colours

The Braan circuit was one of the loveliest walks we have done, and highly recommended if you’re heading in this direction.

After a peaceful night’s sleep we headed off on Sunday morning with a similar plan – aiming for another free overnight location beside another river with some more walking.

Dramatic skies at our break for a look at the Commando Memorial near Spean Bridge
In recognition of the services of the commandos who trained in the Scottish Highlands for WWII

This time we headed for a spot beside the River Garry, just down from Loch Garry. It sounds like a comedy name (where are Loch Kevin and Loch Darren we wondered?) but oh so picturesque. This is located just north of Fort William where we stopped for some food shopping on our way.

When in doubt do both walks – they were both lovely!

After parking up we put on the walking shoes again and set off for an explore. We were rewarded with another spectacular circuit walk, 7.5 km of scenery worthy of Lord of the Rings, moss carpeted woodland, the river Garry babbling alongside us for much of the way.

Delicate pink heather in all directions
Thick lush moss carpets every surface giving the forest an ethereal feel

Other than a group of wild mushroom pickers(!) at the start of the hike we were by ourselves for the whole walk, a lovely magical experience.

Bridges cross streams lined with dripping ferns
Native fir trees on parade
The sound of rushing water accompanies us on much of the walk
A mossy green path scene awaits us around every corner
A huge waterfall plunges over a cliff into the valley below
Steps climb up beside the waterfall, taking us to the next level
We wonder where all the Hobbits are…never seen a landscape quite like this before!
A telegraph pole factory?

All visitors were gone by 5pm, leaving us to a peaceful night with just the sound of the water for company. Just lovely.

The River Garry, lulling us to sleep

This is surely what makes travelling in the off peak period so appealing – the ability to park up somewhere spectacular, enjoy the scenery and serenity as though it were your own. And having our home with us, this is absolutely possible.

We are often asked whether all this travelling gets tiring. We have to answer no. While there are some downsides (missing our friends, family and fur child) the upsides are many. If we were having to live out of a suitcase and unpack and repack on a regular basis, it would be tiring. But in our case, we have our own comfortable bed, with our own pillows and bedding, our clothes are always on hand, and we can cook, eat and drink whatever we like with our own pots and pans, herbs, spices and ingredients. The main thing that changes is the view outside our window, and that’s just the way we like it.