'Freedom'.....

Fri 27^th

Well the pipers were splendid as they walked down the high street with police escort, playing Pride of Scotland. They got to the park gates where people of Blairgowrie were stood in anticipation and just stopped, put down there pipes and sauntered in. All very strange, thought I. They then congregated around the first world war memorial and picked their pipes back up and played three tunes, stopped again for ten minutes and had a fag break, before playing another three. I enjoyed it a great deal and laughed my head off when Fin decided to join in, almost in tune with the wailing pipes. Folk near by thought it great sport. After that I wandered over to the pub, looked in the window to see two old soaks at the bar and no obvious music set up and thought ‘Sod it’ and left. Back in the Hobby I had a cup of tea and got ready for sleep, which came easily and surprisingly, even though a huge lorry carrying trees ready for milling, parked up next to me, I managed quality sleep. Early in the morning buses came past, but I ignored them and carried on. It didn’t make up for the deficit, but helped.

I was lost for somewhere to go. I didn’t know whether to go to Lunan Bay or go south. I went south after remembering something the helpful ‘ti’ assistant told me when I asked her ‘What does Blairgowrie have to offer?’, ‘Nothing’ was the reply. It is only good for a base to start from. I filled up my water container from the garage which sells the cheapest fuel in Scotland so far at £1.14 a litre, so while I was there I filled up the fuel tank as well.

I got to Stirling and drove past the massive Wallace memorial. Its actually better observed from the car park of Stirling castle, which I decided not to go in, rather walk the perimeter on the ‘back walk’, a footpath that circles the wall. It was most interesting and allowed me to see the 306 degree view of the countryside around and particularly the view of the old bridge that Wallace fought for with the memorial behind it. This castle is where the Scottish royals ruled from. Mary Queen of Scotts served her time here and prayed in the Church of Rude near by. It is a dark, austere building outside, like something out of a Tim Burton movie. It has a feeling of a cathedral inside and I enjoyed it very much, especially as carrying Fin around in my arms was permitted. (Chester cathedral listen up!) The stained glass was stunning and as the sun shone for a while, burning off the low cloud that dogged most of the day. I just love looking up through to the knave from the back of these buildings. This one has been used since the 13thC and is therefore one of the oldest churches with continuous use in the UK.

I walked Fin some more, past the Old Jailhouse, where ghost walks take place most evenings until I came upon the shopping centre and not being interested, I turned back and sat in the sunshine outside a wee bistro and had some splendid coffee. I had a conversation with Bob who told me that he and Carly had made it to Lunan Bay and she was booked on a fishing boat with fishermen who haul in nets full of wild salmon on Monday. ‘Book me on that boat’ I urged. So I back track this evening and go slightly north to a car park on Lunan Bay, a long sandy bay on the Dundee coastline, where I shall relax and catch some sleep and some salmon. It will take me a few hours to get there, but it feels like I am going on holiday. How odd! Must get a bucket and spade….

Castles, Dukes and More Pipers Than You Can Shake a Hairy Haggis At!

Thur 26^th

I am a mercat. Every little noise wakens me and I see every hour. I cannot keep doing this as it is affecting my health, I might use some earplugs, as to be honest I am perfectly safe. I mean, even though I was watching the Queens Gaff, no burly men in crisp suits came and took my camera or bino’s from me. I am hyper sensitive and it is uber quiet, so even a snail sneezing is massive out here. My back is very sore and I really need a massage. I rub some of my oils in and prepare for the day.

I remove the blinds and the vista is the same and I feel blessed. I spend a little time just watching the wake of a duck, then put the kettle on and put Fin out for his morning constitutional. I don’t leave the door open though as the wee beasties have got word that we are here.

While the boiler is heating up water for a shower I change my bedding. It is a horrid job for me due to the awkwardness of the position of the bed. It should be simple until you realise that I have to take everything off the bed and place it on the sofa, then strip the bedding. Easy so far. Then putting a sheet on is bending and twisty and I need the agility of a five year old and the strength of a wrestler. Because the bad is a double and I have come from the world of King its all a bit big and I have got into a habit of folding covers under themselves to make it fit. I love having a nice boudoir and my leg wax lady Wendy told me she suffers from Su bed envy as mine always looked so nice and well dressed before. She shares her world with her son in a one bed flat and she has a sofa bed in the lounge. I understand her life more now.

I still insist on Egyptian cotton sheets and got some for a fabulous price from Asda (£9 for a fitted double sheet) before I left. I have always had a five foot bed before now so it's taken a little bit of getting used to. Since I have been in the Hobby I have used a hand made American quilt to top it off, my favourite cousin Philip and his wife gave me a hundred years ago. Now some would say that it is a total fag to do this every day, particularly with my whinging about my back, but when I walk into my adult wendy house, I see my nicely made bed and feel I’m home. I cannot afford to live untidily now or I would soon slide into chaos and that would make me feel dreadful, so being ordered normally is a godsend.

So that done and painkillers taken I drive to Blair castle and enter a long drive where a horse trial is in session in the grounds. The castle is painted white and a piper is playing outside. He is part of the privilege the duke was awarded by Queen Victoria as he is part of the Atholl Highlanders, though he looks like he should have been retired some time ago. Non the less I am getting a piper so I am not complaining. Thought the castles history goes a long way back most of the architecture that I saw inside is 18thC, though as you already know I am rather partial to that period, so I was almost blown away by one of the ceilings that is an awesome example of Georgian plaster mouldings. I stayed in that room for longer than any of the others, but because I cannot look up for long without holding my head, I either needed to lie down or have a tall bloke stand behind me to lean on. I enjoyed the castle immensely and it cost £8.75 for a really nice day. After the tour of numbered rooms and a drawling conversation with a lady from Carolina about the four poster beds and some exquisite embroidery of the bed dressings, today’s theme, I leave the house and its memorabilia of times past and roam the gardens with Fin, who has patiently waited for me in the Hobby. I have two choices. I can walk the perimeter or enter the walled garden that was restored by the 10^th Duke, who was responsible for the castle and its grounds being available to the public. I did both of course and Fin and I had a lovely wander.

Swans and their offspring stood next to the red and green Chinese bridge that cross the small lake, in the walled garden and apple trees spread their branches along the walls loaded with fruit. It had a small house in the middle of the east wall where ladies could sit out of the heat, so as not to get colour. I liked it here and my phone rang and I had a conversation with Deb and the day was filled with joy. She joined me for the walk around the rest of the grounds on a hunt for statues and ornaments. The tallest tree in the grounds until a storm blew its top off in March was a fir and it stood 63 metres. I’m glad it was away from me or I would have definitely had to lie down to see its top. Now the tallest is a Douglas fir standing at only 59 metres. A church ruin houses all the dead Atholl family except the last Duke, the 10^th, who was buried elsewhere. He was well respected by the community by the look of it. I hope the 11^th is the same.

I had a really nice time, probably helped by the amusing conversation Deb and I had that made me laugh a lot and promises of more when I stay with her.

I leave and drive the narrow twisty road to Blairgowrie. I get there at 4.30 pm and park in the free car park in the center of town. I have been given this info by the wildcamping website and according to the very helpful young lady in the ‘ti’ I can stay there forever, as long as I inform the police via her, to say my vehicle is not abandoned. It is going to be the opposite of last night I fear, in that it is noisy, being on the bus route and near the main road. However, it is near the square where a pipe band is playing tonight and after that an acoustic band is playing in the pub over the road and they are dog friendly…woohoo!!!

So as I write this I am drinking a cup of earl grey and eating mini popodums with mango chutney and then I’m going to heat up the left over chick pea curry and eat it with the sag aloo I just got in Tesco, then I’m off for a wee bit of tartan treasure. Wish me luck!

SteamTtrains and Pipers

Wed 25^th

Last night I had a depression settle in and I was feeling lost and alone. I’m not surprised after lovely company for the best part of a week. I miss my special folks and wanted to just turn south and go home. I have been away for over five weeks and without Fin I suppose I may have hit this point earlier. Rain, no phone connection and no internet take their toll when alone, particularly when you have a head like mine. I speak to Cara everyday so that someone knows where I am and am safe, that is if I have a connection. I have loved the phone calls I have received as, although they have been infrequent they make a huge difference. I give thanks to those that have phoned me and get my head down hoping my mood will change tomorrow.

I am restless and fidgety in the night, sleepy badly, cold one minute and hot the next. I get my book out at one point and see if that might help. It doesn’t. When I wake I think ‘sod it, I’ll just leave’, but have a word with myself and the sun comes out. Well that’s more like it, so I go to the platform and board the train, dressed for winter with a fluffy fleece hoody and down body warmer. I have gone back in jeans and socks in the last couple of days, Autumn is definitely on it’s way, but hold on…isn’t it August? The train goes backwards to Aviemore and back through Boat in Garten where I have just left and on up to Broomhill. The whole return journey takes me an hour and forty five minutes and is pure nostalgia. By the time I get back I am grinning and my nostrils full of steam filled with coal dust. Fabuloso.

After that I make a delicious sandwich of king prawns with salad and taramasalata and sit and work out where I am going. I wanted to see Blair castle but realise I may not have enough time in this day to do it justice, so make my way there armed with a wild camping spot from the website and find myself stopping at a mega tourist outlet for tat just outside Blair Athol. ‘What the hell are you doing Carlson?’ my head screams at me. I have time to kill so ignore it and go in. It is just like a big garden centre without the plants. Every kind of gift you can buy anywhere in the UK for any occasion, plus a Scottish deli. Well that killed a half hour and I then drive to Pitlochry and check out the car parks as the website said something about overnight parking there. I wonder if human company might help. After I walk the high street for 20 minutes I get back in the Hobby and drive away. The parking was free between 6pm and 8am, but I guess I weighed it and it was too heavy.

The journey there was a treat. There is something about this scenery that reminds me of somewhere else and I finally realise it is the bit of the M6, when you get to Cumbria. It is the only bit of the M6 I like. This looks like that, only in purple. If you got a shallow saucer, filled it with water and dropped into it the grey of the stones, with dark and light green for the grasses and trees, along with brown of the empty heather and a soft slubby damson of the flowering heather and gently mixing them once with your fingertips, when the water stopped moving, that is what the scene looks like to me. It is beautiful, but a different kind of beautiful than the Highlands. It is rolling and gentle, where the Highlands are craggy and thrusting. It does feel a little like I am in the Lakes, but with heather.

I stop down the road on the south side of Loch Tummel and opposite the Queen’s View. It is a perfect view point of this part of the loch and also of a very grand, large estate house with a pathway down the sloping land to the loch itself, where a thirty foot craft with a covered passenger area a bit like a posh ferry is moored. On the lawn outside the property is a gazebo housing dining tables and chairs with a number of elderly folk taking afternoon tea.

I get out of the Hobby after parking up and walk Fin along the road. As if by magic a piper appears and plays for me. Of course it’s for me, I have asked for it! I check the bino’s and see an old feller in a kilt (of course) wheezing away on his pipes. He missed a few notes but I don’t care, his reels were lovely. The day is nearly done and my mood is much improved, not a teary thought in sight.

I open a gift I bought myself from Findhorn that in my gloom I had forgotten about. I wanted a small oil burner and could not find one anywhere. In the pottery there was a small candle holder which with a small dish on top made a perfect burner. I opened it up and lit it up. It now sits next to the vase I bought at the pottery displays I went to with Deb. They both work a treat, only the wild flowers I put in the vase this morning stink and need to go. The oil overrides the smell for a bit.

I decide to make myself a chick pea and courgette curry and have a cook up. I bet the hob-nobs over the water wish their venison was so good, hey?

All is well in the world and tomorrow a castle to see. Grand. I can see another early night coming on as I finished the cracking Dan Brown novel at lunch and am now to read the autobiography of the Dhali Lama, so let’s see what my head makes of that.

Oh my gosh…( I really did say that to myself, I must be coming a laydee!!!) I had closed the computer down for the day and gone to put up the blinds on the front windows, when I noticed two things. The first things was the wee beasties are back and converging outside the Hobby, The second was that the loch had gone into a mirror like state and was reflecting perfectly all that was on the other side of it perfectly. To top it though and I had to get the bino’s out for it, swifts are darting hither and thither catching bugs at dusk and are swooping the surface of the loch, breaking its surface in an attempt to feed. It is spectacular and just when I though the day was done I discover it has not finished with me yet. I am sitting at the window over looking the loch now about to watch the sunset. God I am lucky, it was worth staying just for this. All I need to make it perfectly perfect is someone sat beside me to share it with.

I climb into bed at 9pm and read.

Down Time

Sat 21^st

Well after a few hours of being blown side to side, I started to feel sick, so I got out of bed and moved the Hobby head to wind and because of the positioning of the rear bed, I was then in the wind free zone. The bicycle stopped rattling and I stopped worrying about the cycle cover being ripped by the onslaught and just as when I am board a boat I was gently rocked to sleep and slept deeply.

The wind had not abated by morning, but Carly had arranged to meet me at 0830 and I was ready to dolphin watch, only this time I was breakfasted and had my wits about me. When we got to the edge of the fort I spotted the pod and we all became excited, me most of all I think. This time there were at least five and a feeding frenzy was going on in the middle of the estuary at high tide. The bottom had been churned up by the action of the wind as the water nearest shore was a muddy brown, so what affect this had on the fish only the dolphins knew, but if the breaching display was anything to go by, a great deal. It was an awesome sight and one I shall not forget. No matter how many times one of these sleek intelligent creatures jumped clear of the water, my soul never tired of watching. It is carved indelibly into my brain

We decided to follow the pod down river and to do that had to walk down the beach, but were cut off by the tide on the corner of the fort, so I took off my shoes and socks and carried Fin around, with the crashing tide sucking my feet out from under me and hitting my thighs. My short long, long shorts were soaked and as I had worn my down filled body warmer I was glad the water wasn’t any higher. It was not cold as expected, but the wind chill was hence the body warmer. My trousers were dry in about half an hour, not that I noticed as I was totally consumed in watching the dolphins.

The walk along the beach continued to the end of the fort wall where a short climb up the steep bank brought us to some scrubland and a fence to get onto the grass at the top. As the firing range was in use that day, we were not aloud to go to the headland as we planned to see the seals that we spotted there through bino’s.

Then it was back to pack and make ready to move on to Culbin Forest and out of the wind. On the way there I stopped at Brodie Castle carpark. I needed potable water and hoped to get some there and maybe a look at the 17thC treasures on display. To get to the castle I had to go through Nairn, which was hosting a Highland Games day. I had originally wanted to see it, but having seen the web site I discovered that it was more an athletics event and there was no caber tossing, no hammer throwing and no haggis chucking…hmmm…nope, not for me. I would have loved the bagpipe competition as for some reason I feel massive amounts when I hear them, but only live, not enough to buy a CD!! The castle carpark wanted £2 for parking. It explained to me why the carpark was mostly empty. I left at that point and thought I should look up the website and check out the details of admission prices for another day and got back to trying to find water so I could go to the forest.

In the forest carpark is a toilet block that has to be the cleanest toilet block I have ever encountered. I could have cooked my dinner in there. Most impressed. It is a lovely place and not a no parking sign in sight. I intend to stay for a few days as I can cycle, check out an otter hide, climb Hill 99, a look out tower on a 99 foot sand dune that overlooks everything, check out the seal sanctuary in Findhorn Bay and generally carry on chilling out. As I write this it is beautifully silent outside and Fin is snoring under the table on his bed, a gentle, comforting snore that does not make me want to elbow him in the ribs and say ‘lay on your side’!

Earlier a man called Gary who is cycling the length of the UK going to RSPB sanctuaries and writing a blog about it, arrived. I was making sweet and sour on noodles and invited him to join as he said he was eating jam sandwiches for his dinner. We had a pleasant meal and he pitched his tent in amongst the trees nearby. I admire anyone daft enough to pedal massive amounts of miles without reprieve for good causes, especially in the middle of midge season. Ooh talking of the wee beasties, I have not had a problem with them since I came east. I am being bitten occasionally, but not with the same relentless piranha style fashion as those on the west coast. I am however scratching a great deal unconsciously and then regretting it. We didn’t have a fire and marshmallows tonight as I made my excuses for a early night. I hurt and need to lie down. I am in need of a massage, so I will just have to be gentle on myself or I won’t be able to play in the next few days. Ooh I just heard the hooting of an owl, don’t you just love nature?

Sun 22^nd

I don’t do much today as I have a weary going on. Andy arrived with Brenda, his wife and fitted my new wing mirror and he became deeply intrigued by the electrics in the Hobby and wanted to figure out why the alarm went off. We ended up after coffee and chocolate, dismantling the sofa and taking all the wiring off the batteries and tested them for power. Eh? The lights still work even though all the batteries are disconnected, even the engine one. Much scratching of heads ensued, until we (Andy) found a third leisure battery under the drivers seat. Now this means that I have three leisure batteries, making four for the vehicle all together, two under the sofa along with a 110litre water trank. There is no way I should ever have an alarm sounding. By the end of the morning Andy had figured that the last battery in the line of charging was duff and disconnected it as it was just leeching power from the rest. After that I have no problem with the lights and as long as I don’t try to run the TV again until I am on hook up I will be ok. We agree that when I get home he will figure out the whole thing properly and fix the wiring as the solar panels have been wired in incorrectly. It makes such a difference to me having a friend around today and particularly one who had helped me fix something I couldn't do myself. Andy tells me this is a van for two people. I agree on some level but it's just me and Fin. Anyhoo, I am happy to wait another 5 weeks to watch a movie, I may even treat myself and go to the cinema, hey hey, bring out the popcorn!

The rest of the day I rest. I am like my batteries, under power. I allow myself to read my book and not do anything. I don’t even leave the car park. I had a text today that to tel me I have sailing to look forward to when I get back so I am cheery, even if a little weary.

Mon 23^rd.

I get up early and go for a cycle with Fin. I intend to ride to the view of Finhorn Bay and see what I can see. I reckon by the map it is two miles away. Wrong. It’s just under five. Poor Fin. I had to ride at about 8 mph to keep up momentum and as I have stated previously he runs naturally at 7, so he is working and when we get back he has done just under 9 miles so is pooped, poor wee chap. All I saw on the way is pine trees and moss covered sand. It was good exercise, but not much else. The bay was hard to see too as I was in the wrong bit and to get to the right bit meant running Fin another five miles, so I turned back. As I rolled into the car park it started to rain and didn’t abate. I got a shower and an early night and crawled into bed and read my book. It is bliss.

I have loved the last week and hanging out with Carly, Bob and girls. I have laughed a lot and I had forgotten how easy it is to laugh this much. My life had been too stressful for the first half of this year and laughing was not high on my list, but now it seems that I spend a good deal of time in delight. I never get to see the Otter pool or the look out tower, which I am informed just shows the tops of trees. I do not feel like I have missed anything as I have had a chance to recharge my batteries, a bit like my Hobby.

Tue 24^th

I saw goodbye to Carly et al with hugs all round and a promise to meet later in the week at a coastal resort or at the Pitlockry games for sure. I drive off and wonder what today will bring. I take myself off to the Findhorn Community. They set themselves up as a diverse group, living life spiritually and caring about the planet. I had heard good things about them, so found myself an emergency camp across the road by a bird hide and go in open minded. I spend a few hours looking at the eco friendly houses and find a lovely wooden house that I could see myself in and also round houses claiming to be made from beer barrels. I have a very nice coffee and almond croissant in the cafe, but somehow don't feel that I want to stay and explore any more. I have to say, there is a nice 'feel' to the place as I was told there would be, but the people working there are just a little too at peace with the world and it feels odd. It is probably more about me than the place, but I just wanted to leave. I even said to myself before going that if there was a day course that I may enjoy I would have signed up for it, but I was sadly disappointed by it. I drove away.

I drive past Nairn, the Culloden site and Inverness and make my way into the Cairngorms. Just before Aviemore I see a sign for the Strathspey Steam Railway and go to have a look for tomorrow. A very enthusiastic enthusiast tells me how much prices are and where the train goes from and to and just then the last rain rolls into the very pretty nostalgic train station and I decide that Fin and I should have a go. The station is just out of the railway children and it will give me a different view of the Cairngorms than I can get from the Hobby. I speak a little longer to the enthusiast and he tells me that I can park on the QT in the golf club car park at the bottom of the hill, with no bother. I walk back down to the hill where I just happen to be parked and settle in for the evening and determine to finish the book tonight. I have plenty more to read queuing up.

We're not in Kansas now Toto!

Friday 20^th

Around the fire I got my chairs out of the Hobby and laugh to myself. The main chair I carry is a Lafuma deckchair which is a very posh reclining deckchair, purchased ten years ago in anticipation of traveling in a Hobby. Now it is doing just that, Pinch me someone, dreams do come true. It is deliciously comfortable and when reclined the feet are above the hips and so a state of relaxation is attained quickly due to blood flow. Well that was me very quickly, after consuming perfectly toasted marshmallows last night.

The clouds left and a fabulous star studded sky was left behind. Roshan joined me on the reclined chair and we discussed the satellite that was clearly moving across the night sky and then I saw a shooting star and gasped. I made a wish. Then it was Ilanas ‘go’ at having a chill and star gazing. I started to sing songs I had taught my girls when they were all kids and soon the whole company joined in. It was a lovely.

In the morning I decide to ‘sod it’ and go back to sleep. At sometime after ten, my phone rings and Andy asks me a question about the wing mirror. I am then awake and hear a dull droning noise, open the curtain and see a generator outside Bob’s caravan chugging away, charging a 12v battery. Carley is going to the beach to watch dolphins and soon after Bob informs me that she has seen a seal pup and I decide to go and see it. Without even thinking about a cup of tea or brekki, I wander down to the beach which is about half a mile away along the shingle, with my ever faithful boy, who gets to the beach and throws himself in and has a swim. Every day this little chap never ceases to make me smile.

Carley is up to her knees in the water and a dolphin family is coming up the river mouth, Billie the seal is swimming up and down the river, he is a resident male. A male dolphin swims on the other side of the water and a female with juvenile beside her. OMG! I have taken my bino’s and decide that my so called decent camera phone is woefully inadequate as it pixilates to a blur on zooming.

The dolphins are no more than 50 feet away from me and get closer as the tide leaves and the reef that they are fishing gets shallower. I am mesmerized as I watch the synchronicity between mother and baby. As she surfaces it’s beak is tucked close to her dorsal fin and in one smooth movement they arch in and out of the water together. Mum is a charcoal grey with pebbling of lighter grey below her fin and baby is a much lighter grey with a pale shimmer along its midline. I embed the vision in my brain and I am so so so happy. Before I know it I look at the time and it is gone two and my head feels light, due to hunger and I have forgotten to take painkillers so make my way back after I haven’t seen them for a while.

I get back to the Hobby and make a decent feed and a cup of tea, when Carley comes alongside and teases me saying the three were jumping after I left. I don’t bite and shrug saying I have never seen such a display in the wild before so what I have had is a total bonus. This has been a magical time for me and I don’t let anything daunt that.

Later I am wondering about leaving and moving on, when out of the blue andy arrives and I am overjoyed to see him and immediately grind coffee and get out chocolate. He is a total chocolate fiend and we set to nattering about where we are at.

Soon we get to talking about my dilemmas as Andy has kept up with the blog and moaned that I hadn’t put in an edit today. I laugh at him and say today is still happening so he will have to be patient.

Andy has a brain that borders manic genius and he sets his cogs wirring and sorst out how the electrics work and what switch makes what light up or not and I understand by the time he has gone that I have left the inverter switch on at night and that is what drained the charge and set off the alarm. He puts my mind to rest about it leeching from the main battery and leaving me stranded and I now know that isn’t going to happen and can relax.

I believe that since I dyed my hair blonde the blondness has sunk inwards each time I do the roots. I get blonder as time goes on and as always when Andy talks to me I have to get him to explain it more than once for me to get it. It also has a lot to do with the fact that it is engineering and I am right brained, not left, so am more artist that mechanic. I have done most of my own mechanics throughout my life and serviced my bikes and cars myself, but that was more about the challenges and proving to myself that a girl can do it so there!

Andy has never ever let me down and in my life I have not had many men that I can rely on to do that, so he has become somewhat of a hero to me and I love him dearly for it. I always say ‘If Andy doesn’t know it, it ain’t worth knowing’. I’m not blowing smoke up Andy’s arse as I know he is reading this, it’s just the truth. He will tell you so himself!

So when he leaves I think again about leaving, but of course it’s much later now and the roads to Nairn are choka as there is a highland games tomorrow. I tell Carley that I may go the long way round Nairn and go to Culbin Forest as there is an Aire there. The wind has picked up to a force 8 and I am in a wobbly vehicle, but Carley who has not caught a fish all week, baits me by asking me if I’m not going to stay to see the seals and dolphins again tomorrow……Pants.... she’s got a point. I call her a temptress and she grins loudly I will be rocked to sleep with some force then, and no marshmallows tonight.

An Aire de Service is a camping area favourite to France. They have a water point and often a dump point for toilet waste and sometimes electricity and showers. Most are free and most villages and small towns have them and motorhomes are most welcome. The thing that has bugged me about this whole trip is that motorhomes seem to be unwelcome wherever in the UK, unless on an official site. When you consider that every fourth or fifth vehicle is one, it is somewhat shortsighted. I have already demonstrated how much money I haven’t given, times that by two for most of these vehicles and see how much money is lost to those whose livelihoods rely on tourism. Wake up UK., just because we are ‘travellers’ we are wealthy beyond our wildest dreams and want to share it (says me, shouting to the Universe, in true Law of Attraction style!)

As I am writing this a man and his wife turn up with a tent, promptly get their car stuck up to the wheel arches in the gravel and the tent flies off in the wind. Lots of running around in the ever increasing wind ensues and I just watch, with my eyebrows raised. Eventually the man gets his car out of the gravel and his tent gets erected minus guy ropes between a wall of my Hobby, his car and Bob’s car, with Bob’s towing rope attached to the top of his tent to prevent it blowing away. You couldn’t pay for this kind of entertainment.

Two more Italian motorhomes turn up and the beach is full. It will at least prevent a ‘little’ man who came this morning and ponced off about this being council land and we have to leave and soon after a police officer arriving. Said little man drove to Aberdeen to make a complaint about us, well Bob and his caravan actually. The guard at the fort told Carley that the land belongs to the MoD, but is used as common land and the man has no right to complain. The copper told us he was off duty until Monday, wink, wink and as long as we were gone then there would be no paper work. Job done, we all settle for a blustery multi lingual evening. The bonding unison of mobile folks, I love it and am glad I decided to stay.

There and Back Again

Tue 17^th

The rain was so heavy in the night when a car pulled into the car park I cold not see it after it turned off it’s lights. I was not happy. As it was about 4am I asked Fin if he wanted the wiz he refused earlier and he agreed it was a good idea. As I went to push the door open I am convinced the wee beasties had placed a plank of wood against the door, it felt so heavy. I squinted out, there was literally a wall of them against the side of the Hobby. I shut the door quickly and waited one minute before letting Fin in again. I had his towel at the ready and rubbed him down, more to kill any of the damn things than to dry him. I went to bed truly miserable. When the sun eventually came out it was grey and as my friend Mairi, a Scot would say- ‘Dreich’- bloody horrible.

I drove stoically on to Lochinver and looked for the Fisherman’s Mission for fish and chips. The lady in the ‘ti’ said it had shut a couple of years ago but was ‘opening next year’. Great! I phoned Deb laughing and told her and we both laughed. I could not believ my luck. I walked the short length of the place and found a bistro next to a restaurant. I went into the restaurant as it was dog friendly and asked for fish and chips with a coffee while I wait. The coffe was not bad, I say, the coffee was not bad. The fish and chips howeve,r were the most expensive plate of grease and soggy batter I have ever paid for. The chips had to be re-ordered and came out the second time edible. As the coffee was not bad, I had another cup to wash down the grease and burped loud burps all afternoon. Do you say ‘pardon me’ when you are on your own and burp? I do and think myself odd. Who am I asking to pardon me? Myself? I realise I have spent far too much time without human contact. I tell Deb that I am not going to Smoo caves and afterall the only thing I am going to Durness for is chocolates. She laughs and promises to by some via internet for me and we can share them with wine when I get back to hers. It’s a deal and I turn south. Going back through the Moin Thrust I see what Deb meant, it’s very interesting driving through a glacial valley. The mist had risen enough for me to see most of it. I drive as quickly as I can without burning fuel too quickly and get myself near Inverness.

I see signs for somewhere and decide to explore. I don’t know where the somewhere is, but what the heck, just do it. I find myself on the Black Isle. It is relatively flat and full of fiels of wheat, barley and vegetables. It is a stark contrast to where I have been and I am curious. I find a road on a map when I can stop and place myself in the right direction, but as you can guess by now, I take a wrong turn and find myself nowhere, turn around and aim for somewhere. I see a sign for a fairy glen and think that I should stop and see it. A carpark nearby has a sign for no parking but a lady tells me it is not enforced. The glen is at the end of a walk along a small river and stops with a waterfall and is pretty. Fin enjoys the walk and we settle down for the night. I am glad to be out of the wet, midge infected, unfriendly west coast. I cannot believe how my spirits lift by not being there.

Wed 18^th

At 2am the high pitch scream starts and I am now able to categorically say it is the alarm for the leisure batteries. If they drop below 10 volts they let me know, otherwise they eat into the engine battery and I could find myself stranded. I have to move the Hobby to put some charge in. I remove the front window blinds and in my dressing gown I move away not having a clue as to where I may go or even where the hell I am. I just drive. A few minutes down the road I see another car park and park up. There are no signs so I feel it will be ok. Shortly after the siren calls again. I repeat the whole routine again, only this time, drive around for half an hour, along the golf course and by my nose, find the car park again, near a little museum apparently. Exhausted I flop back into bed and look at my phone for a GPS position. Google maps are so brilliant, I love them. I find myself and turn on the Google earth bit and can see exactly where I am and see that I am exactly opposite Fort George across the river and that is where I want to be tomorrow. Hoorah. I then sleep deeply.

When I awake to the sound of children, alerting Fin, I let him out for a look. I put on the kettle and get a shower before leaving. Driving along the beach I see masses of campers, tents and motorhomes parked in a camp site. It’s a beautiful view, but I bet they’ve paid for it. I love wild camping and the odd bit of anxiety is worth it.

I have checked some tourist brochures before I leave and see that there is a winery nearby, so head for it. I have to go up a wrong turn to get there of course, but when I get there expecting good things I just find a very nice lady called Sarah, but no winery. I am disappointed and get chatting with her after sampling small sips of the choices of wine. She explains to me that the lady who owns the castle created her own recipes for the wine, mead and liqueurs on sale, but after Europe came along with all it’s regulations the wine had to be produced elsewhere. Shame. After a second cup of coffee I asked Sarah if she wouldn’t mind some constructive feedback. She agreed so I told her how things could be improved as I had received it flatly and felt it was a terrific business opportunity missed. She was revved up after I gave her my ideas of improvement and I believe that after I left she will find a way to have them implemented. I just tapped into her passion and I await to see if she sends me an email with updates as pronmised.

Onto Culloden. I got to the carpark with a badly damaged wing mirror. White van man got too close to the white line at exactly the same moment I also got too close to the white line and guess what? I am pragmatic and hardly even shrug. All the money I have saved wildcamping has just been spent on a replacement - hey ho! In the car park at the battle ground there are masses of coaches and was I am greatly relieved to find that I can walk the battle field for free and not have to enter the visitors centre and pay for the guided tour by earphones and recorder. I can find all I want to about the fierce battle that lasted less than an hour and killed thousands on Google. I enjoyed walking the field non-the-less.

By the time I got to Fort George it was twenty past five and about to shut. I noticed with my now practiced eye a lorry parked off the road on the fort approach, with a motorhome and a caravan parked behind. Aha! I drove up to them and was rewarded with a perfect place to camp and stay. I was doubly rewarded by some very lovely souls for company too. A Dutch couple in their seventies called Hank and Marrrrika spoke to me as old friends and Carley was off fishing, but her husband Bob welcomed me, literally. I was a little overwhelmed and a tad skeptical to my shame. We later walked to the beach with a promise of local dolphins in the loch, so I was happy to join. No dolphins tonight but I found some great company and around the campfire marshmallows were toasted on the end of sticks. Bob’s two daughters Ilana and Roshan were delightful and generous in their sharing. They talked for England and were very bright, bordering precocious.

I went to bed very happy, full of good cheer and wine and was asleep in seconds.

Missed Boats and Downpours

Sun 15^th

I sleep fabulously well and awake at 6.15. I lay for a while to assess how I feel and decide to move the Hobby back to the harbour car park and then have a cup of tea and go back to bed, it’s Sunday after all. I make the tea and read my book for a while. It is the latest Dan Brown and is right up my street for this time. I fall back to sleep and wake at 9. Oh my that feels sooo much better. I get up and tidy the Hobby and get dressed and go outside to see if a boat trip might not be a great idea. I choose one that lasts 2 hours and costs £20. I get talking to a couple who have retired and are on holiday from Yorkshire, called Mary and Brian. They are very nice and friendly and we go for a walk to find a waterfall, but all we see is a horse in disguise. A kindly owner has covered it in anti-midge protection, it is strange, but I bet the horse is glad. I reckon it looks like a highwayman's horse in diguise. About 15 minutes more before we get to the fall, according to some folk we meet coming back, we decide that we will run out of time for the boat, so turn back promising to go there later. I get back to the Hobby and grab a quick sandwich as I am hungry and get to the place to get on the boat just in time to see it leaving without me!

I cannot understand how that happened as two minutes ago I have 20 minutes. I guess I just wasn’t meant to go there. I get in the Hobby and check out a road I had seen marked Badachro which according to the rough guide has a great pub in it. I pass the pub and head out to the end of the road, just to see what is there, discovering a red sand beach and a car park not designed for motorhomes. Even a large estate would have trouble parking so I back up 60 feet and turn in the ‘no parking turning’ circle, On the way back I pull up and park in a layby I had spotted on the way there. It is a perfect platform to watch the sea and I climb down the boggy heather strewn road edge to a boulder laddened beach. I almost left without a coffee and stopped, turned back and made one, carrying it down to the beach to drink. It seems a good thing to do.This is a bit hairy as it’s steep and untidy so not easy. I find myself cut off by a fence, but get to the corner of it and climb over the corner posts in an ungainly fashion. This is just the right time to conjour up that inflatable man! Once over I sit on the boulders and drink, watching the water and I feel compelled to write a text to others to share it. I am doubly compelled to make contact with the world as I have had no signal for days and I have one here of all places- on the edge of nowhere. It is almost perfect, blue skies above and clear blue seas below. The sea state is flat calm and a gentle breeze blows the yachts along slowly. Ahh bliss. I watch the water through my bino’s in case I should see a dolphin or the minkey that is purported to be out there. I see birds and four young lads trying to fish off a small rental, but no aquatic mammals. I decide to stay here and sleep tonight though and when I get back I settle down to some relaxing and watch a dvd. While I am relaxing I imagine Mary saying to Brian, scratching her head, ‘I wonder what happened to Su, Brian, I never got her blog address, what did she say it was again?’

I am pants at relaxing. While I watch, I sort out the office cupboards as I have named them- a row of cupboards above the table holding office stuff including my netbook etc. Then I stick some shoes together that have just about to lose a sole. Then I get fidgety and make another coffee, then a tea and it goes on. When did I lose the ability to just sit still and wonder to myself. That keeps me still for a while, then I have to rewind the movie again and see the bits I missed while wondering.

While on the hill earlier I had spoken to Andy and he is to meet me at the end of the week, back in this region, as his son is doing a half marathon somewhere near, so I am excited about that. I am motivated to go further north, to the top in fact and then come back to meet up.

With that sorted in my ridiculously busy head I settle down to watch the sun go down and as I sit in the driver’s seat and enjoy the slow descent of the burning orb falling into the sea, I become aware of the hoard of wee beasties collecting at the windscreen. After when I let Fin out for a wiz, I implore him to be ‘quick, before they see us’, like the last human alive in a cheap zombie movie. He climbs onboard and I quickly shut the door. I had spent an hour earlier while watching the film clapping the Carlson hands of woe as about 30 of them had got through the fly screens. I don’t think the German’s had Scotland in mind when they built this Hobby.

I write this tucked up in bed,after a sun set, looking out of the window at the coast getting sort of dark as it’s a lovely place to be and sleeping early seems to suit me.

Mon 16^th

During the night I noted with curiosity that I had only half shut the curtain by the bed as I watched the sun go down, I have been uber vigilant to shut the world out up until now as I have felt at times particularly vulnerable, being a girl on my own and have been careful to note as I go through villages if there is a police station, if I have a signal on my phone and making sure Cara knows where I am at all times. I think it is sensible and I am aware that having worked for the police for the last 6 years I am overly aware of things around me, Ooh, that’s a point, I should be having a celebratory drink as I am now no longer employed by them as of Saturday!

I make the morning by cleaning up and making way back towards Gairloch. The wee beasties are not around this morning and I am safe for a while. As I drive past the village I wonder what happened to Mary and Brian and hope Mary saw the minkey. I wished I could have at least said goodbye as they were nice folks. I drive on to Ullapool through the mountains and it starts to rain a bit. I turn on the radio and it just crackles at me, so slide in a Sum 41 CD and sing to that instead. When I approach Ullapool I note a garage to fuel up and although I have half a tank I must as it’s a long way to the top and it gets expensive from here on. I also note how pretty this looks and am optimistic of a coffee and some nice folks to talk to. I find a carpark and note a Tesco. I need some fizzy water and I need to wash some clothes so am also relieved to note a launderette. I enquire as to the cost and it’s £4 a wash and starts at £4 to dry regardless of how long it takes. I decide that I will take the wash and leave the drying as that seems like extortion to me.

I wander into town walking Fin and am woefull after onlky a short space of time. Two streets with not too many people in them, but the usual suspects of tat shops and overpriced tourist souvenirs are on offer. A hardware shop, an outdoor clothing shop and café’s and restaurants line the rows. At least the Youth Hostle gets to sit overlooking the lochand harbour where a couple of boats take folks out to the Summer Isles for areasonable price. I decide to pop onto the largest café and hear my name being called. It’s Mary and Brian and I am overjoyed to see them as I can at least now give Mary my blog address and say goodbye.

I do my laundry while I shop and pick up my clothes after. I forget to ask the laundry lady for fresh water and chastise myself later. I have a two litre bottle so it’s not urgent, but Daft none the less. I find the car park at Knocken Craig where the techtonic plates meet at a place called the Moin Thrust and settle down for the night. There is a little man in a small red van nearby, a slim Bill Oddie type with shaggy beard and pony tail, but as the rain starts to pour and the weather on the radio tells me its going to gets worse I look at my washing and think ‘DOH!’.

So at only nine ‘o’ clock I climb into bed and hope I sleep well. Loch Inver and the best fish and chips in the world await tomorrow. Oh, and , erm, please God, can I have some internet as well…please!

Where Are The Friendly Folks?

Sat 14^th

I am rudely woken at 0615 by a high pitched scream and wonder what the hell it is. I throw some clothes on and investigate. I figure it must be the gas shed as the noisiest area is by the table. I go outside and am immediately hit by a battalion of midges armed with sharp wee teeth all shouting ‘Fresh meat lads!’. I open the shed door, hauling the gas bottle out and turning it off. I go back in, smeer Avon skin so soft dry oil all over me and go back out. This time I have lit a huge citronella candle as well and place it by the door. Avon comes good, as does the candle eventually. I then check the electric meter by the door and it shows me that there is only 7 volts in the batteries. WHAT? Does not compute…! More scratching of head.

The noise abates and I have no idea what just happened. The manuals don’t mention it, I have checked the shed vent under the floor and that is clear. I am baffled. The only possibility is that the valve attachment may be at fault. I’ll have to get it checked when possible. God alone knows when that will be. The manual does say that the nut should only be done up by hand, but when I got it, it was way tighter and I had to buy a wrench to undo it, or rather get someone to crack it for me. I need a muscular genie who appears at times like this. Hmm, a muscular man who only appears when you need him and then disappears again to return later when required and never moans about it….. Must put that on my wish list!

Soon after I leave the view of Sky and go to Plockton. It is a tiny pretty village just over the hill from Skye and I stop there in a car park that has three other vans in. They have obviously been there overnight as one has a granny in her nighty stood at a window. I grind some beans and have coffee for breakfast for a change. I had a strange dream filled mercat night. I think it was actually too quiet and my weirdo head had too much space. By the time I have time to think about the dreams I had, I have forgotten them. I have a wander, but the locals don’t seem too friendly. I move on. I drive around Loch Carron and the sight is made of post card stuff. The water is mirror state and perfectly reflects the hills and buildings. I feel emotional again. Must get some quality sleep soon of I am going to be a snuffling mess. I try to stop at the golf club that states all welcome, but is has a height barrier. Clearly not all welcome! I drive into the village of the aptly named Lochcarron and the Spar shop is fabulously stocked so I get some scotch rolls at 22p each or four in a packet for 99p. I pick up four individuals and put them into a wee plastic bag and place them on the counter along with some fruit. Just down the road I spy the Kishorn Seafood Bar and fancy a stop for coffee. On entering it is full of my favourite things; queen scallops,

My plan is to visit Shieldaig and then Torridon. Deb described the rock formations there and I find myself in a most impressive valley with a landscape that looks like it rolled down the hillside in waves, almost like layers of chocolate icing drizzled slowly down the side of a bun. Then huge mounds lurch out of the ground and suddenly I am next to a large body of water with the most spectacular rock formation surrounding it. I stop to take a picture. Suddenly I’m hungry again. Perhaps it’s all the descriptions in my head about food that triggers it, or maybe I have not eaten enough lately. It was so sunny when I got up that I put my short long, long shorts on (3/4 length) and they were looser on me than the last time I wore them and I have to do my belt up a notch, so I know I have lost a few pounds.

I decide not to stop anywhere except for photos and after eating a Scotch roll with smoked salmon and soft goat cheese I drive on. Scotch rolls are so soft and yummy, topped with a light dusting of flour. Albert always went on about them and I know why. I pass Ben Eighe. It is weird and looks like someone has badly slopped cheap runny white icing over the top of it and let it go hard. Food, again? It’s quite out of character with the rest of the landscape, which has dull brown heather and green grasses, mixed in with the rocks of various colour greys. As I drive I can see most of the way round it and then suddenly I can see a sign for Gairloch and I motor on. Most of the road between Sheildaig and Torridon is single track as wide as the Hobby with passing places every 50 feet or so. It is slow and everyone has to be patient, though not everyone is polite like the notices implore. Now the road widens and I speed up, winding down the window. I notice the air here is warmer and stick my arm out of the window to feel it on my skin. I have met the Gulf Stream and even the heather cheers up and turns pink.

As I enter Gairloch I don’t know what to expect, am met by signs for boat trips and see the harbour. I park up and have a look around, trying to see signs that tell me ‘no parking’. I may try and park here tonight as I want to do a boat trip tomorrow morning. The ‘ti’ is not at all helpful, being run by the Saturday girl who can only tell me that the camp site charge about £15 and she cannot tell me anything else. OK. I drive up the hill to a look out and get my bino’s out. I desperately want to just stop for a couple of days and chill, but to be honest, cost aside, the thought of staying in a camp site fills me with dread. Other folks noise and ...ergh..kids…!! Not for me ,oh no.

I park up at the look out which has spectacular views across the loch and check out the bay for the minkey whale that is said to be out there and can hear the football match going down on a pitch in the village. Footballers are a noisy lot.

I cannot get a signal for internet even up here and so cannot look up the website that might help me. This end of the world is like Wales…empty and dead to techno. Great, if that’s what you want. I’m going to go back to the harbour and see what gives in a mo after I finish my cup of tea and chocolate, did I mention chocolate?

I end up on the harbour and am advised to park in the café owner’s parking space as it’s the only bit that doesn’t have a sign ‘no overnight parking’ attached to a post. Perhaps as its just a bit of rough ground it’s been left out….’The lady in the whale watching boat tours hut told me to your honour’.

I decided that as it is Saturday night I would break the habit of what has become many years of dull Saturday nights in, from working weekends and go out. I get a shower and put on make up and nice clothes and don’t forget to spray all over with the Avon, do my hair and walk to the end of the harbour to the pub, where I noticed a band were advertised. I get in and order a half. As I finish drinking it I ask about the band and am told there isn’t one. I am beginning to believe there is a running theme to this trip. Sod it, I leave!

I try to remain upbeat, return to the Hobby and get my short long, long shorts back on, add walking boots and take Fin to the beach a mile away. He goes mad in the sand and makes me giggle, bless you Fin, my life would be so much less without you little mate.

It’s not even ten and I’m off to bed. I am going to leave here tomorrow. I am gutted as I had expected much more, friendly folk for a start. I am yet to meet them.

Fort William, an Otter and Friday the 13th!

Thur 12^th

I check my calendar to realise how long I have been away. How the hell do you change the spell checker to English, this blinkin American one is driving me nuts. Realise is not spelt with a Z…garrgh!

Anyhoo, nearly four weeks in and I have to think about a contingency plan as Cara informs me that she has pregnancy diabetes and I may have to return earlier than planned. With that in mind I set off to Fort William and Neptune’s staircase, via the beautiful Glen Coe. I have always loved it and I cannot wait to see it again and oh boy, I am not disappointed. I have to share it with someone and phone Cara to share the oohs and aahs. Having come through the Welsh and Cumbrian mountains to get here and I truly believe that this is the most awesome view in the UK. From entering south to north the most majestic and dramatic views unfold. I always think with Rob Roy and Braveheart in mind when I am here. It’s been at least a decade since I have seen this and it never fails to take my breath away. I am so deeply honoured to be able to see this and I tell Fin he is also as he has the best seat in the house. I cannot imagine the hardiness of the folk who used to live in these places at those times, when all you had was a peat fire and cows to keep you warm at night. I am reminded that as well as rain, it also that it snows here and is probably bleak in winter, by the post that mark the side of the road, I know I am in the Highlands. All the colours of tweed are mixed up with a good portion of rain, did I mention the rain?, to remind me of where I am. I am continually breathless, so much I start to turn blue…. I drive slowly to take it all in.

I arrive at Fort William and park in the large car park by Neptune’s Staircase. I see they have put up signs of no overnight parking to deter folk like me. Hmmm, there is a man in a large purple converted security van, a la money collector style. IT STANDS OUT!! Nothing subtle about that. He reckons I will be safe there, but I am not sure. I go for a walk along midge alley next to the canal and have a look at the boats and see Ben Nevis standing majestic in the background. I wonder if I shall ever in my life time see the top from the bottom…naah, reckon not. Still It can be seen in Google so there you go.

I go to the Moorings Hotel and ask who has jurisdiction over the car park and am told it’s the council. I don’t want to tangle with a job’s worth and decide that a parking fine would totally negate what I have saved wild camping and head off to a road sign posted Nevis Range to see what I can find. Most of the way up, I see a lorry parked in the most humungous gravel car park with what looks like a massive cow shed and I park up. I make a fabee meal of Quorn bolognaise sauce and rice and settle down to eat. I have heard music and assume it’s from whatever facilities are further up the road. No it’s the cow shed and the lights inside come on…. Oh!

I favour being positive so decide that I will be ignored by whomever comes out and all will be groovy. One car passes me and I am onto a winner. Two to go and I can get my head down for an early start and a cycle of the Great Glen Canal. Two more come out and natter away for ten minutes. What could possibly have not been said until goodbye came up. People do this a lot, leaning on car doors. I decide that if I watch, my vibe will be picked up, so pretend they are not there and I am the elephant in the room. They both leave and I sleep, well almost, it is the quietest quiet and so noisy, deafening quiet I think they call it.

I wonder what treasures lie in store for me tomorrow.

Fri 13^th –uh oh!!

Many years ago, in fact, a decade and the last time I was here, with my last ex husband, I cycled the canal. I was traveling the UK investigating American motorhomes as at the time I thought that I would own one. Well we cycled the canal for the whole day and on the way home stopped at Neptune’s Staircase. It is a fall of 7 locks gradually descending from the canal down to the where it meets Loch Linnhe. It is awesome and on this particular episode, the road had been moved across and so had the steam rail line. A dozen or so boats and craft were slowly moving from one lock to the next, gently and peacefully manoeuvred by the skippers and watched by us. Something caught my eye. It was bright blue and full of sheep. We got speaking to the skipper of the vessel. It turned out to have been one of the landing craft used in Saving Private Ryan. The guy had bought it, stuck a cab on it and painted it blue. He used it to move his sheep from Inverness to market. As he moved down each lock I went with him, fascinated to the end. He was the last vessel and as he went on his way with a wave, the road went back and after it the rail line. A minute or two later, the steam train to Mallaig went past with a pershticough and all was well in the world. It was a unique special moment in time. I shall always remember it.

Something else to share. I found a map of the UK with all the counties and thought it would be great to use for this trip, so put it with all my other stuff on board. I decided that I would mark the roads used and could display it to my family when I get back. I found markers on it, stared at it for a while and realised that I used on the trip I just described. Now how about that for a spooky coincidence- if there were ever such a thing?

I awake with a start at 0530 and decide to drive back down to the car park by Neptune’s Staircase. On doing so I go back to bed, sleep like a top and wake refreshed. I get straight onto my cycling kit and get on the path via the locks. One is cascading water over the top, like a large waterfall in an attempt to even out the steps I suppose. Nature’s way of equalizing. I walk up to the top and climb on the bike. I have forgotten to put on Fins baby carries so wonder how far we shall go.

Through the gate and along the toe path of the canal. Using Fin’s natural rhythm of 7mph as a guide to how fast I cycle, we go on for about four miles. The canal is part of the Caledonian Canal and has another set of Locks at Fort Augustus, before it enters Loch Ness. I shall not see them on this trip, but if my memory serves me, they are not as spectacular as these. About two miles into the cycle I have been ripple spotting and see a large set of deeper ripples and do a double take…oh, Oh, OH! My heart flies as I see an otter. At first my stupid head told me it was a large snake as the markings on the mouth were just like that of a snake, but then I heard, ‘don’t be a dummy, it’s way to big for a British snake’ and then it hit me with the biggest grin imaginable. Weird how your head does stuff like that. Some German lads were walking towards me and were yabering away and for about ten seconds I had the divine joy of a rare beauty. It is only the second time in my life I have seen a wild otter, so rare are they. The first was a sea otter in the sea (of all places) just outside Plymouth Sound where I has my teens. It was lying with it’s belly uppermost, in amongst the weed, hitting a shell with a stone. Now I have seen this one. I shush the German’s but the shy wee thing has gone. They are interested enough and as always speak cracking English. We go our separate ways and I keep my eyes peeled for any more movements. The canal is about 60 feet wide and full of dark brackish water and presumably, fish.

A Canadian canoe gently passes me by and Fin and I stop for a rest at a sluice gate. I reckon 8 miles is enough for us both. I am grateful for buying my cycle shorts in Wales as my bottom bones usually start to ache by now. As I raise my bottle of water to my mouth, I realise with a start that Ben Nevis is cloud free and grapple with my phone to get a picture before it tricks me. I get something of one, but there is so much light I cannot see what I am taking and take a pot luck shot. Then out of no-where a Harrier jet passes right over my head and I am convinced it dipped sideways just for me. Is there no end to today’s pleasure? And it’s not even lunch time yet!

When I get back to the locks I chat to the lock keeper and ask if I can drive up and get fresh water as I reckon I need to keep a full tank from now on. He obliges with his fire hose and as I park up, I see that there are showers available lock side, presumably for the use by sailors, but as my sailing friend Bernie has already pointed out to me, I am a ship without sails so I suppose that makes me a skipper. I get a shower while I’m there and make a fabulous ‘Chez Hobby’ coffee and king prawn scotch roll and sit with my bare feet dangling over the lock wall with my loyal to the death, companionable pooch beside me.

Some boats are coming up through the locks so we watch them, Fin ever-so inquisitive sniffs the edge of the boat and I can just see by his demeanour that if the skipper of the boat said ‘come on then’ he would be on board in a flash. Finbar the Sailor. I have his life vest with me, in case we get out in a boat, as I want to go dolphin watching further up the coast.

So ‘fully loaded’ I go to leave Fort William my heart singing and head off towards Skye. Just as I am about to fire up the engine an unregistered number rings and due to the noise of the lock I cannot hear properly and a voice says ‘Whose was the nicest kiss you ever had?’ ‘

'Blimey, 'Ill need some time to ruminate, I’ll have to stop and make a coffee while I think’, I say. I don’t even know who it is!

My old mate Sonny laughs and asks me to put the kettle on as he is outside my house. ‘You’re out of date, mate, I went walkabout a month ago and Cara now lives in my apartment, I’m at Fort William!’ We natter on and catch up after not seeing each other in an age. In the gap he’s even proposed to his girlfriend on her 50^th, on one knee and sober. I’m all teary at the thought of this great bear of a man, getting all squishy and romanced up. We’ve been bike buddies for about 15 years since I started in the bike trade and Fridays were our thing. We used to go to a rock club on the local strip with one of Deb’s ex ex’s and dance and basically, get drunk. We were the three musketeers. We laughed a lot, especially when Sonny, then a bombed out bomb disposal diver for the navy, in a full leg plaster danced on a bench in the club doing the can can. Halcyon days!

Anyhoo, while reminiscing, I drive away full of info that, the navy training centre just before the Kyle is run by Georgie and she will probably let me park up there. I drive onto the Invergarry road and am instantly overwhelmed by emotion.

God, this is amazing and I am suddenly and deeply made aware that this is the very route I was to do on my beloved Blackbird, in full leathers, on my 40^th birthday and then go to Glasgow for dinner with Albert to celebrate our birthday. It was my dream and now part of my bucket list, except the have dinner bit of course! However, for the minute I am overtaken by missing my dad/ hero/mate. His hat stares at me from the dashboard. I have to stop the Hobby and get some rock music into the stereo. I choose the soundtrack to Armageddon and crank it up full belt. I sing my heart out and then music that Sonny and I headbanged to comes on and I am transported into another world. Aaah… good times. I get to the centre after 70 miles and for the whole journey I am envious of the bikers that I signal to pass safely, but to be honest, I am envious of me too. How many life times have I waited for this journey?

I’d planned to tell you all about Eileen Donan Castle which is just down the road from Skye, but as usual the car park had a height barrier and I was not welcome. The Scottish keep saving me money! I drove to a wee stop on the other side of the castle and get a cracking view. I am made aware at this point of the limitations of my phone camera and wish I’d boutgh a Dictaphone also. By the time I come to write these edits I have forgotten so much. Oh I just remembered that I saw a long horned goat on the side of the road as I rounded a bend. What a shock…phew!

I enter the centre by the long drive and there is not a soul in sight. That’s when I remembered it was Friday the 13^th ……hahaha, oh well, I’m just going to play it that I had permission and if any of the occupiers of the cottages nearby ask I‘ll blag it, I am a wild camper!

A night literally next to the loch side is my kind of heaven. I park as if I am meant to be here and settle in.

Finally a great place to stay

Wed 11^th

Blimey, I’m awake before the birds, so I get some clobber on and get back on the Loch Fyne road. I get to a little place alongside edge of the loch and stop so Fin and I can walk the waterside. On the beach I find a nicely marked small serving spoon. I pick it. Later, I will bleach it and scrub it and add it to my collection. I take some photos of the sailing boats moored nearby and count my blessings, a favourite part of my day. I turn of the water heater and find I have no gas… damn, what a brain fart! Deb had recommended a fabulous veg restaurant in Lochgilphead so I go through there but cannot find it. I realize I have been here before as there is a museum on a boat that displays the Highland clearances. I loved it, as it showed the history and was on a boat that the poor Scots would have traveled to wherever they were going and it ain’t big! If you don’t know about how the Lairds were in cahoots with the English lords and got rid of their own people, google it, it’s a fascinating part of Scottish history. The slave trade comes in a similar bracket.

Anyhoo, I find a car park that does not allow me to park in and think ‘stuff this’ or something similar and find a fuel station and get gas and gas. I have to ask a nice man to crack the nut that holds the gas cylinder to the connector as I just cannot do it. Christ, the new one ways a ton, but I manage with gritted teeth to get it back in the locker and promise to never let it run dry again. After that I am happy, so bimble down the road to Kilmartin to look at the Neolithic relics. In a car park near by, that I can fit in, but must not park overnight in, I turn on the gas and have a shower and breakfast. Boy it’s raining hard and I wonder about walking the fields with Fin in this. No problem, a big sign tells me ‘NO DOGS’…What? The cows sitting next to the cairns are more of a risk than my wee boy!!!

I trundle up the road to the tiny village and seek out the museum. In the churchyard next to it is a hut that has been made by Historic Scotland to house burial slabs with ornate carvings on them dating from the 14thc-18thc. I am relieved that someone somewhere is more interested in my learning about it than trying to make a buck, unlike the charity that runs the museum- charity, pah! £5 to enter two rooms of stones. ‘Sod off’- I walk…. Down the path to the cairns that are free to look at and no sign from this end. It’s such a shame as I would love to have seen the stone circle in the wood that is diplayed with the hairy weird stripey jumpered chap from the Time Team. I suppose one stome circle is much the same as the other, but to obstruct curious folk with well behaved animals is crazy. I drive on to Oban where guess what? Parking takes me an hour. I am getting frustrated by this now. I find a slightly out of town supermarket site and opposite Tesco is a lorry park that has three designated Motorhome parks. I wait for a chap to leave in his long wheel base van and relax. I leave Fin there and walk into town, five minutes away. Oban is another tourist town. I don’t drink whiskey and the £7 entrance stops me going to look to see how it is produced. So as I have turned into the Hairy Woman of the So enter the ‘ti’ with the fixed idea of a leg wax, but after picking up a load of leaflets I decide to buy an eplilator. I have had the same waxer for 15 years and she has ruined me for anyone else, so I will give it a go, particularly as I will find myself in the same spot in France next year.

I realize that I am not a usual tourist as I really cannot stand these places. Perhaps its due to being alone, or maybe it’s just me. Me? Really? Ok,ok, yeah it’s me.

So we leave after I go into the generic Tesco and buy a paring knife after I find I have left mine draining at Deb’s. I check the internet while I have the chance and find a car park off Loch Etive at the end of a long road. I have joined a site (www.wildmotorhoming.co.uk) and it’s most helpful. It lookes ok on the map, so off I go. Half way there I see a herd of Highland coos. I find a parking stop and walk back to see them, squealing in delight. I love them and I am so cheered up by the shaggy heads and horns to die for.

At the car park There are a few cars and are mostly owned by those on holiday, fishing just off the mouth of the river, or Kayakers. I speak to one such fisherman, who informs me that my belief that you have to have a license to fish Scotland is wrong. It’s just rivers and inland lochs, not sea lochs…hmmm… should I buy a rod, or bat my eyelashes at one who thinks salmon should be thrown back,..... thrown back,.... fresh wild salmon?.....Der!

I check out my mileage…flippin flop….I have traveled just under 1500 miles. Biggest pleasure is that during one leg I got 30 MPG so I am very satisfied by that. Don’t ask me what I did differently as it was the top of Wales to Deb’s so perhaps the motorway mileage made it up.

Soon after it really rains. Huge Scottish rain. I am left alone and my anxiety soon disappears. I sleep deeply, alone in a deserted car park. I awake during the night, the rain’s stopped, so I look out at the twinkling lights of the beacons on the loch and feel happy.

A weekend of bliss and no driving

Thur 5^th- Sat 7^th

I am parked up outside my friend Deb’s house on the edge of Cumbria, well actually it’s outside a disused tea shop in her village. I am a little head up, but don’t want to draw too much attention to the largest vehicle in the village by placing the chocks under the wheels, so a little listing is not too much hassle. I used to climb with Deb and her ex on Dartmoor and haven’t seen her eight years. So far I’m having the best time and I have had a long hot bath and washed all my clothes and taken the bread maker out of the garage under the bed and made fabulous warm fresh bread…. Woohoo….

We have walked on the fells- up and down hills, gone to a pottery convention- Bill Oddie and his wife everywhere, talked until we are exhausted and had loads of laughter.. fabee! We ate lunch in a wonderful café that allows dogs called No 15 in Penrith and tonight we are off out for a Chinese. This is just what I needed at this stage of the trip. Even walking into the Hobby at midnight last night and having no electricity due to the rain that fell most of the day, didn’t dampen my mood, I just turned on my headlamp. I slept well and woke up excited. I’m here for a few more days so I hope that in terms of energy I shall have recharged and feel more wellness.

Sun 8^th- Mon 9th

I cannot believe how well Deb and I have got on. Mind you, being both Aries women the energy was always in tune along with the telepathy. We only have to look at each other to know exactly what the other is thinking. It made everything so simple, as we both wanted the same thing. On Sunday morning we visit a limestone field of very special stones. Like the Burren in Ireland this limestone has a special geological significance. Deep steps of layered stone with crevices in between allow for a micro culture of plants to flourish. I was so deeply saddened to discover that man in his stupidity and greed had machined off the tops for gardens and left a sort of shingle underneath. The bits that were left were worth a look.

After that, all dressed up we went to her colleagues birthday soirée in Kendal. It was pleasant but, when the Jazz band were due to arrive we looked that look and made our leave. I have never been able to figure out how four blokes playing randomly different tunes, all with different tempo can be called music. I suppose its like art, it’s all in the ears of the beholder.

On Monday I got to glaze pots at Debs’ friends pottery. Mary, (www.interludeceramics.com) is a successful potter and a generous instructor. She let me have a couple of pots to play with and I was most impressed with the results, if I may say so. I shall certainly keep and display. We had to put wax on parts we didn’t want coloured and glaze other parts either by dipping or with a brush, then fire, then place into sawdust and catch alight, put out quickly and then plunge into water. It is called ‘raku’ and is all very exciting. The glaze is supposed to crackle and come out in splendid colours but is highly unpredictable. I loved the day and was absolutely shattered at the end from standing for so long. It may have been from the fact that the night before (and the night before that) Deb and I had blethered on for hours over good red wine and I am such a cheap date, it does not take me long to be tiddled. We had one more bottle to go, then I have to leave to dry out.

Tue 10th

The next morning I reluctantly leave with a friendship cemented. I’ve emptied the ‘bogging’ toilet and tied everything down. I am sad to go even though I am off to Bonny Scotland and that is what has driven me so far. I met Deb in a similar place to myself at the same age (38) and totally understand why people used to say that their ears bled after a while of being with me. I can say that my life lesson here is to have a visit with myself. I didn’t know what to expect, or how long I might stay, but felt I had met a sister after a long time and part of me didn’t want to leave. Many hugs preceded goodbye.

The trip to Scotland was long and arduous. I stop in Carlisle to get fuel and pop in the homogenous Tesco. It seems to me that every single Teso is laid out the same. I could walk in blind and still find the fish section! It’s handy if you are in a rush, but hugely unexciting as a shopper to get 600 miles away to find that I am in Plymouth as soon as I enter the doors. After that I enter Scotland and head north. I tried to stop at Loch Lomond, but my plans to wild camp while in Scotland get off to a ropey start. I go to Luss as it was one of my stepdad Albert’s faves. I find it a bit twee, but am able to put water into the tank so I can at least have a shower in the morning. I was not able to do this by my on board- bought for the occasion flat winding hose pipe. Oh no, I had to park in the car park, walk into the ladies and use the sink, so after five round trips from Hobby to sink with water carrier,I had just enough for two showers and I leave.

My head is full of Albert, a Glaswegian who returned to Scotland after he and my mum parted. He died sadly aged 65, six years ago. He and I stayed as family and I traveled to Scotland every year to visit him around Easter as we shared our birthday and always tried to spend it together with the girls. We were great mates. He’d have loved this trip and I have his corduroy sailor hat on the front dash of the Hobby, so in a way he comes too.

I found that my dream of easy ‘wild camping’ ain’t so easy. I took the road to Loch Fyne, turning left at Tarbet and found myself on a slow road of twisty difficult, miserable, wet, narrow tarmac. Deb and I had sat the night before and conjured up a plan of where to go and what to see on the way, with time to relax and write etc. She and her ex spent many trips on adventures kayaking or climbing as they are uber outdoorsy folks. I just want peace and quiet, beauty, with a little bit of adventure thrown in for good measure, for let’s face it, doing this alone is adventure enough! I find that every time I do what the ‘book’ advocates I don’t feel safe enough. Eventually though 200 miles away from Deb’s and thoroughly exhausted I pull over somewhere as I just have to stop. I find a sign that denotes and adventure centre and check out it’s car park, but am afraid of stopping there, so instead find a spot on the side of the road to it, near a house. Unfortunately the pull in is on a slope and I fall into bed slowly creeping to one side of it. I am anxious and fidgety of someone knocking on the Hobby door in the night and making me leave. I definitely do not feel safe, but have full signal on the phone and eventually fall deeply asleep with no problems.. apart from slippery sheet syndrome!