We started with a suitably Covid-19 compliant breakfast, which wasn’t too bad. Sausage in a proper Scottish morning roll along with the normal cereal and toast. Perhaps they could have managed a slice of Lorne sausage instead of normal sausages, but it was fine.
As our bags were being transported on to Oban we decided to walk up to Queen Street to catch the train. We bought some salads and sandwiches on the way up to the station. We noted the mounted statues of Glasgow were decked out in their traditional head gear.
Traditional Headgear for Mounted Statues in Glasgow.
On to the train to Oban. It is about one hundred miles and takes about three hours. HS2 will not do anything to change that. Actually, because once we were out of the suburbs of Glasgow, the scenery is very attractive, I wouldn’t have wanted the train to go any faster. The trees are turning It all looked picture postcard perfect. Well not quite, because it was a grey and misty day, but I think that the rain and the mist bring their own kind of beauty to the Highlands.
We arrived in Oban about two o’clock, having eaten our sandwiches on the train, we didn’t need lunch, and, as we couldn’t check into our hotel until later we went for a walk.
We found a seal watching trip. There were supposed to be nine people including us but the other seven failed to show so we had our own exclusive cruise. We didn’t see any seals, but we did have an excellent trip down the Sound of Kerrera.
The trip took about an hour and cost £12, I would recommend it. We arrived back in Oban about four o’clock, by which time we could check into our hotel.
McCaig’s Tower (or Folly)
After we checked in, we unpacked, Diane obtained a pre-dinner Gin and Tonic. After dinner we went to bed, because we had to be up at stupid o’clock the following morning.
This holiday started off as a Rhine Cruise with a a side trip up the Jungfrau by rail. That was cancelled due to Covid-19. The next option was a rail tour entitled “The Treasures of Tuscany”, which sounded a decent alternative. We might have needed to isolate on our return but as I am now retired, that would have been an inconvenience, but not much more. That was also cancelled. At this point Diane called the tour company to find what tours might actually run. Which is how we have ended up on a five-day tour of Oban, Skye and Mull.
Last week Nicola Sturgeon announced new and stricter lock down measures for Scotland. We thought that this holiday would also end up being cancelled as well. On Friday we received a phone call assuring us that the holiday was going ahead.
The new restrictions might make it a bit different from holidays we have had in the past. But then life is different from what we have known in the past. In the Central Belt all pubs are closed, cafes and restaurants have to close at six p.m. They also have other restrictions. Outside the central belt, where we are headed, the restrictions are (slightly) less severe. Hotels are allowed to serve evening meals, but not alcohol to residents. At least we can eat. (I think we are allowed to drink if we sit outside, in Oban, in October.)
The trip up to Glasgow, was fine as far as it went. Sitting in a train, wearing a mask, for five hours isn’t great, but I can put up with it. There was no catering on the train, but we were prepared, with a flask of coffee, sandwiches, and what our grandson Jack, describes as “snacks”.
The first three hours of the journey are fairly unremarkable. Some parts are attractive enough, but a lot of the time the line runs through industrial areas in varying states of decline. However the last two hours, from Lancaster, north to Glasgow are very attractive. The line passes though the Lake District and the Western Borders.
A lake,or possibly a loch.
Lake District fells
After we arrived in Glasgow we checked into our hotel (Holiday Inn Express) and decided to go for a walk, partly in search of alcohol, which the hotel is no longer allowed to serve.
Glasgow , at least down by the river, proved to be more photogenic than I remembered it.
Dinner was OK. Especially considering that the hotel probably doesn’t have a proper kitchen. we went to bed early. It had been a fairly long day.
More lockdown easing. Today we went to Painshill Park. A c18th landscape garden set between the A3 and the M25. Neither of which existed at the time of it’s creation. Actually the A3 probably did, but it would have run through the centre of Cobham rather than bypassing it. And it would have be known as the Portsmouth Road. Considering that I have lived in this area for 35 years this was the first time I had visited. Surprisingly t was also the first time that Diane had visited as well, and she has lived (almost) all her life in the area.
The park was laid out by an Anglo-Irishman the Hon. Charles Hamilton. He started in about 1738 and ran out of money 1773 and was forced to sell. In the meantime, inspired by two Grand Tours and his art collection he laid out a spectacular landscape garden populated by follies.
I was highly impressed by it. Entry at £9.00 for adults isn’t particularly expensive.
Probably the best way to give a flavour of the place is to post some of the pictures I took.
I can’t really comment on their catering as the facilities were only partially open, but I had a good mascarpone ice cream before we started our walk and we finished off with a cup of tea and a scone under the trees.
I’m not really sure whether we are still in lockdown or not. But we are off for a break in the BGB.
Taken earlier.
We have come down to the Caravan and Camping club’s site at Normans Bay on the Sussex coast for three nights. We decided on three nights because at the time we booked it was unclear whether the toilets and showers would be open. We thought that we could manage three days washing in the sink and using the PortaPotty. As it turned out all the facilities, except the shop were open. There were a few restrictions on their use, but none that made a huge difference.
By the way Normans Bay is so named because it is the place that William the Conqueror landed to start his invasion of England in 1066.
It was a beautiful sunny day, so we decided to cycle into Bexhill to find some lunch. On the way to Bexhill, we passed a pub called The Star, which was serving food. We checked to find out if they were open in the evening as well. As they were we booked a table for dinner, then carried on to Bexhill.
Bexhill has some happy/sad memories for me. After Grace died, it was one of the first places that I managed to take myself off to on my own. I’m not sure why I chose Bexhill, I think I wanted to see the De la Warr Pavilion. I took the train from East Croydon and had a good day. I had lunch at the pavilion, a meander along the sea front and round the town, then caught the train back home.
Beers on the seafront
These thoughts were going through my head as Diane, Brian and I cycled into town. We found a baker’s shop and bought pasties for lunch. We went down to the seafront to eat them where we also found a bar, so we had a beer to go along with them.
I also took a few pictures of the De la Warr Pavilion.
We cycled back the way we had come, arriving back at the van about three thirty.
We walked along to the Star for dinner. Because they were operating under social distancing rules, their menu was quite limited and the service was different. Food and drink was placed on a side table from which you passed it to the other people on the table. However, the cheese bacon burger and chips that I had was fine. Every one else said their food was fine as well. The puddings were large.
In a previous life, I might have said that the food was adequate at best, but to be honest after 106 days it was lovely to sit down to a meal that someone else had cooked for me and where someone else was going to do the washing up. Critical faculties are currently suspended.
Day 107 Wednesday 08/07/2020
When we woke up today, the weather had taken a turn for the worse. I had been woken up by the rain during the night, so it must have been fairly heavy. Bacon sandwiches for breakfast were needed.
We were booked to go to Pevensey Castle in the afternoon. We decided to visit Hastings for lunch first.
A hopeful seagullHastings
We found a cafe for lunch and wandered back to the BGB along the foreshore. Hastings doesn’t have a harbour, even though it has a fair sized fishing fleet. The boats are winched up the beach. They are launched (I think) by pushing then down the shingle using an old Caterpillar.
We had booked a slot at 3pm for Pevensey Castle, so we didn’t have a lot of time to look around Hastings.
The castle is an interesting site. Unusual in that it has been used as a fortification from Roman times right up to WWII. (There were gaps when it wasn’t in use). The Romans built it to protect Pevensey Harbour. The sea used to come right up to the walls of the castle. The Roman walls are still visible right round the site. After the Romans left, the Saxons used it. It was William the Conqueror’s base after he landed his army at Norman’s Bay in 1066. It was an important castle all through the Middle Ages, but gradually fell into ruin. In 1940, with The United Kingdom facing the prospect of invasion the castle was returned to use. For more information click here.
Pevensey Castle
We went back to the van and made a cup of tea, while Diane tried and failed to get a photo of some cute, but uncooperative piglets.
Supper was cooked in the van.
Day 108 Thursday 09/07/2020
We woke up on Thursday morning to find out grey and damp. We had thought of going to Battle to visit the battlefield, but wandering around in the rain looking for the spot where King Harold got an arrow on the eye didn’t appeal. We packed up and headed home.
It was good to be able to finally get out after one hundred and eight days.
Following yesterday’s excitement (seeing the twins for the first time) it was back to more mundane matters today. Some charity shops have reopened. We have been doing a bit of sorting out during lockdown, and had a reasonable amount of stuff to re-cycle. We took the BGB, to Rayne’s Park — we did have a fair amount of stuff- to find a charity shop, and do some shopping.
Diane came back with two cappuccinos and a slice of chocolate cake to share. As of the moment cafes are only open for take-away, but we had our own private socially isolated cafe with us.
Our own little socially isolated cafe
After lunch, we went up to the allotment I decided to attack the brambles and the bind weed. I should have taken before and after photos, but forgot. It looks a lot better, but the brambles took their revenge on my hands and arms.
Day 99 To 104 29/06/2020 to 05/07/2020
I managed to miss the momentous 100th day in lock-down. We probably should have thrown a socially distanced street party, or something like that. On day 103 (Saturday 4th) however the pubs, and hairdressers were allowed to re-open. It went surprising smoothly. The predicted mayhem did not occur. Though there were apparently a couple of localized incidents, some over hair appointments.
Sunday (Day 104) was spent getting The BGB ready for our first trip of the year, because not only are the pubs allowed to reopen, so are campsites. I checked that everything was working, filled the fresh water tank and the fridge with beer and wine (and some food). Just to be clear the water tank only has water in it. We packed about twice what we would need for three nights. I put the van on electric hook-up overnight to make sure that the electrics were OK, and to ensure that the leisure battery was fully charged. We went to bed quite excited about our first trip in almost a year.
Practising for the trip.
Day 105 Monday 06/07/2020
The big day dawned , bright, clear and sunny. The BGB was packed and ready. the bikes were on the bike rack. We set off about an hour and a half later than planned. The idea was to travel to the campsite at Norman`s Bay via Liphook, to see Finn and Sol (and Tilda, Aimee and Andrew)
Sort of defeats the object of having a Brompton, but we need a rack for Diane’s e-bike
Finn and Sol were of course lovely. As was Tilda, though I think she is finding sharing her mum and dad slightly difficult. Everything was going smoothly until we had lunch and I discovered that I had left my spare insulin at home. To be honest it wasn’t much further to go from Liphook to Norman’s Bay via New Malden than it would have been to go the way we had planned. Or at least that is what I told myself.
We arrived about five thirty. Diane’s cousin was on the next pitch to us (planned), so we had a drink with them. We had a walk on the beach before we made dinner. It was a beautiful evening.
Today was the day when I had to head south with a purpose.
Day 1 to An Gearisdan (Fort William)
There is no direct road due south (unless you want to walk) so I set off in the direction of Loch Maree and Torridon.
Loch Maree
The weather was a bit overcast and drizzly, which made heading home a little bit easier. It also meant that the photographs were a bit on the grey side.
As I arrived into Torridon (an area where mobile phone signals exist) I received a text from my bike shop telling me that my Brompton (which should have been there in plenty of time for my trip) had finally arrived, and would I like to come and collect it. If I had had the bike it would have enhanced my trip, but I couldn’t really say that not having it spoiled my trip. It meant that I went for a walk where I would have gone for a ride.
Torridon
Torridon
Torridon
From Torridon the Starlight Express and I headed on along the southern shore of Loch Torridon until we reached Sheildaig where a decision had to be made. The coastal route via Applecross and the Bealach na Bá (Pass of the Cattle) is supposed to be spectacular. It is also on a narrow single track road which climbs to a height of around five hundred and fifty metres with hairpin bends and a few unguarded drop offs. The cloud base was about three hundred metres so I would be driving the trickiest bit of the road in the clouds with next to no visibility. So, no views and the chance of accidentally driving of the edge of a cliff; I chickened out and decided to take the valley road. Next time if the weather is clear we will take it.
The valley road to Lochcarron was attractive enough though.
I stopped in Lochcarron for lunch at the Waterside Cafe. Like all the places I ate at during my trip it did simple things really well. Excellent soup and a sandwich to go with it.
Moving on after lunch I didn’t get very far. There were major road works on the other side of the loch. I think there had been a landslip. This necessitated a convoy system, which was complicated by the fact that the road was diverted onto the railway for about a quarter of a mile. Naturally the trains had priority.
So there I was, stuck. Anyhow as I said earlier, in a camper van you can always make a pot of coffee whenever you feel like it. So I decided to do that. As Sod’s law dictates, just as the coffee pot came to the boil the traffic decided to start moving. I manged to pour it into my travel mug while ignoring the toots from the cars behind me and set off with a mug of good coffee to keep me going.
The Starlight Express, or at least her sat-nav was making a case for diverting through the Isle of Skye. It would have been less distance, but any time saved would have been dependent on the ferry to Mallaig being exactly synchronised with my schedule. I decided to stick to the mainland route.
A few miles further on I stumbled across something that I wasn’t expecting; Eilean Donan Castle. I must admit that I didn’t really know exactly where it was. But having found it I thought it would have been rude not to stop and take a few photographs at least. (Besides I did need to go to the toilet)
Eilean Donan Castle
I don’t know very much about the history of the castle beyond the fact that it is a compulsory stop for every coach tour of the Highlands. but a click on the link will take you to an informative Wikipedia page. Feeling suitably relieved I pressed on to Fort William.
The weather was beginning to deteriorate and by the time I arrived at the foot of Ben Nevis it was blowing a full gale with horizontal rain.
There is supposed to be a good pub/restaurant about ten minutes walk from the campsite I was staying at, but I whether it is or not I still don’t know. I didn’t fancy arriving there looking and feeling like a drowned rat so I decided that it was a night for cooking in the van. Some pasta in a tomato and basil sauce washed down with a chilled red (the only place I could find to keep a half full bottle of wine upright was in the fridge) did the trick.
I also found a travelling companion today, Kylie the Campervan Coo.
Day 2 Back to England
The following day dawned grey, but not quite as wet and miserable as the night before. “Dreich” summed it up. The plan was to get as far south as I could, while remembering that I was still on holiday. The route more or less planned itself. Down Loch Linnie to Ballachulish, through Glencoe to Crianlarich, then down Loch Lomond to Glasgow where I would pick up the M74 for the dash south. Kylie thought the plan was OK as well, or at least she didn’t object.
The grey, dull misty weather didn’t make for great driving conditions, but It did lead to some very evocative photos, especially of Glencoe.
I didn’t have the time, and given the weather, the inclination, to do more than take a few photographs. Glencoe is a place of spectacular scenery and not a little history. The Glencoe massacre of 1692 is infamous.
Onwards and southwards, The Starlight Express, Kylie and I went, passing through Bridge of Orchy, Tyndrum and Crianlarich before arriving “By Yon Bonnie Banks” in time for morning coffee. The weather was still pretty miserable but the sun was making a vague attempt to find its way through the clouds.
Loch Lomond spat me out into the outskirts of Glasgow and traffic and dual-carriageway roads. Things that I had forgotten about in the last week or so. I coped, managed to find my way over the Erskine Bridge, onto the motorway network and eventually onto the M74 south. I stopped for lunch at a service station somewhere south of Glasgow and north of the border.
I also managed to find a bottle of raspberry wine for my friend Toby. We have a competition to see who can bring the most horrible local hooch back from holiday. There was no way that it was going to be as vile as the coffee flavoured ouzo that he brought me back from Greece. The important thing is the taking part not the winning. (It did turn out to be reasonably vile though, probably more strange than actually undrinkable.)
I crossed the border near Gretna Green. I was trying to work out how far south I could get before dark (it is easier to set the van up if it is daylight). Google said there was a campsite at Kendal, not far off the motorway, so I decided to stop there for the night.
I went for a walk into town to find something for dinner, but the only pub I found didn’t do food. I wandered back to the van. It was actually quite nice to cook one final dinner in the van.
Final dinner
Day 3 Home again
There isn’t that much to say about today. The Starlight Express’ Sat-Nav gave me a pleasant little tour around the foothills of the Cumbrian Fells because it thought that there was some kind of a hold up on the motorway. It eventually led me back on to the M6 somewhere around Morecombe and after that it was dive down the motorway to home. I stopped somewhere along the way for lunch and made one last pot of coffee.
I arrived home mid afternoon and I must admit the Starlight Express looked at home on the drive.
Day 4 Saying goodbye
I had to return the Starlight Express by ten o’clock, so I was up reasonably early and about nine I reluctantly set off for Forrest Hill to return her to Campervantastic. They asked me how the trip had gone, so I told them; “I enjoyed it so much that you may have lost a customer”
I reluctantly decided that today was the day when I had best start to work my way south towards home. I wasn’t really all that sure how far south that I wanted to get. I think I had plans to get as far south as Fort William ( or An Gearasdan as it is shown on the bi-lingual road signs).
A slight diversion. Road signs in Scotland now are generally bi-lingual. In the Gàidhealtachd the Gaelic name is given first, but as you move south into the English (or more properly Scottish speaking areas the English version is shown first.
Bi-lingual Road sign
I got as far as Gairloch, which is about 30 miles further south, but because it is quite a bit further west, I’m not sure that it was much closer to home.
Altandhu is out on a limb, so I had to retrace a bit of yesterday’s route before picking up the main road south to Ullapool. It wasn’t too much of a hardship, the scenery is spectacular which ever direction you look at it.
I thought about stopping for a coffee in Ullapool, but didn’t for two reasons. I was slightly bothered, given my tendency to be distracted, that I would end up on the ferry to Stornoway and a tour of the Outer Hebrides. Also when you are in a Campervan with a stove top espresso maker you can stop and make a coffee where and whenever you feel like it.
As I was driving down the east shore of Loch Broom I did become distracted by a ferry, or to be more exact the memory of a ferry. About thirty-five or possibly forty years ago I did a walking/hitch-hiking/public transport tour of the Highlands. I remembered taking a foot ferry across Loch Broom from Ullapool then walking over the peninsula between Loch Broom and Little Loch Broom. I then more or less followed the coast round for a few days until I eventually ended up in Torridon. I thought it might be an idea to try to replicate the journey. I knew I wouldn’t be able to do all of it as there was one section from Redpoint to Diabaig that could only be done on foot or Mountain Bike. So instead of carrying on south I turned right at Braemore onto The Destitution Road.
The road climbs over the moors, with An Teallach dominating the horizon, before dropping back down to Little Loch Broom at Dundonell, where I stopped for lunch. Moving on down Little Loch Broom as well as the obvious spectacular scenery you come to a place called Gruinard and about a kilometer off the coast an island called Gruinard Island, which has an interesting, slightly sinister, history. The last time I was here there were notices up all along the shore warning you not to attempt to land on the island. During the Second World War it had been used for experiments in biological warfare and the soil was still contaminated with anthrax. It has since been decontaminated and returned to its original owners.
I carried on following the coast road until I reached the village of Poolewe. Poolewe is the home to a rather remarkable garden. Because of the effects of the Gulf Stream, a benign micro-climate allows plants to be grown on the north-west coast of Scotland that you might not think possible. (Plockton, for example, is famous for its palm trees). Inverewe Gardens were created in 1862 by Osgood MacKenzie and later after his death, his wife and daughter further developed them. His daughter gave the gardens to the National Trust for Scotland shortly before her death.
I had brought my National Trust membership card with me, and as it gave me free entry to the gardens I thought I might as well. I’m glad that I did. In late September, when I visited, the gardens were past their best, but still worthwhile seeing. I would guess that they are at their most spectacular in late spring when the Rhododendrons are in full flower. It is easier to post pictures than try to describe in words, so here are (some of) my photographs.
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After my walk around the gardens, and buying a T-shirt from the gift shop, I decided that it was time to find somewhere for the night. It was nearly five o’clock and as the saying goes, “the nights were fair drawing in”. I decided to drive across to Gairloch rather than spend the night in Poolewe. It was on the way to Fort William (remember, where I was heading when I set out this morning) anyway.
The skies were distinctly grey as I set off, but the weather forecast was hopeful. By the time I stopped to make a coffee at Oykel Bridge the sun had come out.
Starlight Express at Oykel Bridge
After my coffee break I carried on, heading north-west into the wilds of Assynt and Wester Ross. As I travelled west the scenery became more mountainous and spectacular. Passing through the village of Inchnadamph at the south end of Loch Assynt this was the view that greeted me.
Ardvreck Castle and Quinag
The ruins were once Ardvreck Castle a stronghold of Clan MacLeod, who once held sway over the lands of Assynt. The original keep dates from around 1490. The mountain behind the castle is Quinag.
I carried on along the north shore of Loch Assynt, heading for Lochinver. The clouds, mountains and sun combined with a stiff breeze to create a constantly changing sky scape.
Lochinver is one of the biggest villages in this part of the world. It is also one of the biggest fishing ports in Scotland. Because of its sheltered position at the top of Loch Inver it has always been an important port for landing fish. In the 1990’s the port area was extensively redeveloped.
One of the companies that transports the fish from Lochinver to its destination has some interesting looking trucks. The combination of Christian and Celtic imagery on the left hand trailer was particularly noticeable.
Interesting combination of Celtic and Christian imagary
One other thing that struck me as I was wandering around Lochinver was the names on the War Memorial. It wasn’t quite so much the names (there were a lot of MacKenzies and MacLeods both Assynt names) as the regiments. Roughly a fifth of the Assynt men killed in World War 1 belonged to Canadian regiments. There must have been a major emigration in the years leading up to the war.
I traveled on from Lochinver over a wonderful, narrow, twisty single track road to Altandhu and the Port a Bhaigh Campsite. That part of Assynt is dominated by the peaks of Suilven and Cansip.
The view from the top of the ridge above Altandhu is spectacular.
The Port a Baigh campsite was probably my favourite site of all the sites that I stayed at. The views were great, the facilities were modern and clean and across the road was a bar cum restaurant called the Am Fuaran (The Well) Bar which did great locally sourced food at a reasonable price. By the time I had wandered back from my meal the wind was beginning to pick up (again). It was rattling the canvas of the pop-top, and also rocking the van about a bit, so I decided to sleep downstairs, with the roof down so that it would be a bit quieter and with the pop-top no longer acting as a sail, less rocking about.
Once you are at John O’Groats you can go west or south*. Going south would have meant retracing my path, so west it was. Going west, the road runs along the north coast of Scotland, sometimest beside the Pentland Firth, but more often a mile or so inland. It passes through several villages and after about 25 miles comes to Thurso, which is (apart from Wick) the only town of any size in this part of the world. Perhaps it was the weather, it was a bit grey and fairly chilly when I arrived there, perhaps it was the fact that the town has a bit of a run down feel to it, but it did seem as if I had arrived at the “Ends of the Earth”
First impressions aren’t always completely accurate. Wandering round the town I found that it is quite a pleasant place (if a little run down) and it has a very interesting small museum/art gallery, Caithness Horizons. Which also has, as you would probably expect a rather good café attached. You can tell that it is good as soon as you enter, because it seems to be the place where, if she had lived in Thurso, my mum and her friends would have met for coffee, cake and a blether. There is no way that mum would have put up with inferior coffee or cakes. So after a look round the museum I had my lunch there.
Moving on after lunch I carried on along the coast road to Dounreay . This was the site of an experimental semi-commercial nuclear reactor known as a Fast Breeder Reactor. (There is a good section in the museum on the history of Dounreay. It also has a reconstructed control room from one of the reactors.)
There was a reason that it was built in this remote part of Scotland. It wasn’t to bring jobs to a depressed area (although it did that to an extent). With most nuclear reactors if things go badly wrong you will have what is known as a meltdown, as happened at Three Mile Island, Chernobyl and Fukushima. Meltdowns are serious enough, but if things had gone seriously wrong at Dounreay a fully fledged nuclear explosion was possible. The last reactor was taken off-line in 1994 (though the Royal Navy continued to run a smaller reactor for nuclear submarine research until 2015). The plant is currently being decommissioned, a process that might be complete by about 2118, though it is thought that It will be about 300 years until the site is fully decontaminated.
After Dounreay the roads became single track with passing places, even the roads designated as “A” roads. They continued as single track with a few exceptions for the next three days. Further along the coast I came to Farr Bay, near the village of Bettyhill. I stopped to make myself a cup of coffee, then the sun came out so I went for a walk along a pristine deserted beach.
Looking at the surf made me think that this is the real North Shore, who needs that one in Hawaii.
Continuing along the coast to Tounge I had a decision to make, whether to continue on to the North West corner, though it wouldn’t be possible to get to Cape Wrath except on foot, or to turn south. Because I had for some unaccountable reason always wanted to visit the village of Altnaharra I decided to turn south. It should be noted that villages in this part of Scotland are not like villages in the rest of the world. Houses tend to be spread out and a village is deemed to exist when the houses get a bit closer to each other.
I set off south in the direction of Altnaharra and Lairg through an almost deserted, bleak but rather beautiful landscape of peat bogs, lochs, heather and hills.
Altnaharra came and went and to be honest I would have missed it if I hadn’t noticed a sign for the Altnaharra hotel. I thought about heading west again, but as I had decided that while I was in the remoter parts of the Highlands not to let the fuel tank get much lower than half full, and I was slightly below that, the best plan would be to carry on down Loch Shin to Lairg, where I was fairly sure that I would be able to find a petrol station. When I arrived there it was about 18:30 so I ended up spending the night there. There was also a hotel with a restaurant just at the entrance to the campsite, so I let someone else do the cooking and washing up tonight.
*Not strictly true, Duncansby Head is slightly further east and Dunnet Head is a bit further north, and of course, you can always get the ferry north to the Orkneys.
Storm ‘Ali’ had passed over and all was relatively quiet and peaceful. It was time to move on in search of places and adventures new. I had decided the night before that John O’Groats was the next destination. I set off with the intention of getting there by sometime in the late afternoon.
However…. Strangely enough I got distracted. By Inverness.
By the time I had driven up to Inverness it was about 11:30, my original plan was to bypass the town and carry on north over the Kessock Bridge. Then I thought Inverness would offer a greater choice of places to have lunch than some of the smaller towns and villages further north. So I might as well stop there for lunch and have a look round.
What did I have for lunch, I can’t remember, so probably a sandwich or similar. Then I went for a wander and found the River Ness, which is the river that flows out of Loch Ness to the sea. No sign of Nessie making a break for freedom though.
Inverness is a very attractive town (city? it has a cathedral), especially down by the river, as can be seen from the photos. As I was walking along the river I came across Inverness Cathedral. I quite like mooching around old churches (although dating from the mid c19th it’s not that old by European standards) so I decided to have a look around. What I found really made my day. There was a concert by the students of Sgoil Chiuil na Gaidhealtachd (translates as Music school for the Highlands). It is based at Plockton High School on the west coast. There were some seriously talented young traditional musicians on display. I loved the concert and bought their CD, which became the soundtrack for the rest of the trip.
If you would like to hear some of their music click on the picture of the CD above and it will take you to their Spotify page.
This left me about three or four hours behind schedule, not that it mattered, but it did mean that I wasn’t going to make John O’ Groats today.
I took the scenic route round the Beauly Firth and stopped for the night in Beauly.
The “Starlight Express” in Beauly
The next morning I was up bright and early, I discovered that the van had a built-in alarm clock, which you had to get out of bed to switch off. Which worked better than setting an alarm on my phone, that I could cancel while still in bed. The objective today was to make John O’ Groats.
Again I decided to take the scenic route following the coast rather than just hammering straight up the A9.
I decided to take a bit of a detour to take a look at Nigg Bay.
Cromarty to Nigg Ferry
If I had known that this ferry existed I would possibly have driven along to Cromarty to catch it
Nigg Bay
Nigg Bay used to be the main centre for building and repairing the various rigs and other sub sea structures used in the Scottish North Sea oil fields. That still comprises a fair bit of the work carried out there, but construction of offshore wind turbines is becoming increasingly important.
Nigg Bay
After my detour I found my way back to the A9 and followed it round the coast.
The view from the A9
It eventually led me to Golspie in time for lunch. I found a coffee shop with the marvelous name of “The Coffee Bothy”. They do a rather nice butternut squash and chilli soup as well as coffee (obviously) and sandwiches. A big bowl of soup and a sandwich was, if I remember correctly, £4.50.
Golspie High Street
Standing above Golspie on the summit of Ben Bhraggie is a gigantic statue, known locally as “The Mannie”. It is of George Leveson-Gower, Marquis of Stafford and First Duke of Sutherland. He was a controversial figure, responsible for “The Clearances”. Some could interpret his actions as a those of a social reformer, others see him as a monster. The link above gives some information. The land was cleared of the subsistence farmers, who had lived there for generations to make way for massive sheep farms, stocked with Cheviot sheep, largely shepherded by Border shepherds. My 3x great-grandfather Francis Renwick appears to have been one of the shepherds who went North.
The “Mannie”
After lunch, a walk round Golspie and some food shopping, it was onwards and upwards to John O’ Groats. I thought about stopping at Dunrobin Castle – the ancestral seat of the Dukes of Sutherland – which is a few miles north of Golspie, but decided against it.
As you carry on northwards towards Wick and John O’ Groats the landscape becomes increasingly bleak. It is fairly flat with peat bogs and almost no trees. But it is also comparatively high up. All along the coast there are high cliffs. Pressing on and avoiding the temptation to stop in Wick (not that much of a temptation) I arrived at John O’ Groats about four in the afternoon.
Trying to bet a selfie in front of the JoG sign without being blown away
Trying to get a half decent selfie in front of the John O’ Groats sign proved slightly problematic. Trying to avoid being blown away whilst taking it was also a problem.
I was a bit upset by the state of the sign post. Applying a sticker to it (a bit like a dog peeing on a lamp-post) to mark the fact that you have been there appears to have become a thing. All I have to say to any one who reads this blog is don’t do it.
I decided to stay the night at John O Groats. There is a decent campsite. Although I couldn’t find anywhere for an evening meal. It wasn’t really a problem. I cooked up some pasta and opened a bottle of wine. Problem solved.
Now that I had reached the ends of the Earth, all I had to do was find my way back.
bothered, given my tendency to be distracted, that I would end up on the ferry to Stornoway and a tour of the Outer Hebrides. Also when you are in a Campervan with a stove top espresso maker you can stop and make a coffee where and whenever you feel like it.
you come to a place called Gruinard and about a kilometer off the coast an island called 
