The Highlands and Islands of Scotland are magical. No other
word so perfectly describes them. Gorgeous lochs, cascading waterfalls,
bubbling burns, quirky Scottish pines, rolling hills of orange heather.
I could go on. And I will.
In the last week of October Gus and I hired a campervan and
drove north for a Highland adventure. We covered an impressive distance over
seven days - driving all the way up to Ullapool, down the coast to Kyle of
Lochalsh, all around the Isle of Skye, then winding our way back down to
Edinburgh.
Several people lately have commented that I seem to spend no
time at all in Edinburgh, choosing instead to gallivant around the countryside.
This is somewhat true, and hopefully after reading this post you will
understand why.
- I'd like to make a quick note of the fact that about a third of the photos in this post are not mine - I borrowed them from Gus -
We picked up our campervan on a Friday. I had never seen
this particular campervan before, but was suitably impressed when I started to
explore all of the nooks and crannies. I’m not joking when I say that it was
better equipped for living than my flat. Comfy beds, shower, gas stove, and
heating – all of the mod cons! I had Iggy Azalea’s ‘Fancy’ stuck in my head for
most of the day. I came to love that van, and the sometimes-dodgy Sat Nav (shaky Jennifer) more than I ever expected.
Part way through the trip I declared ‘this is the life Gus!’ and he responded ‘I
know, and we found it fifty years early’.
I don't care that I don't currently have a real job. I want to retire right now and buy a camper van.
I can't say that we had much of a plan for where
we were going at any point, so I would sit with the map and read out anything
that sounded potentially interesting. It was a system that worked well for us, which is frankly quite surprising considering my poor map reading skills.
Our first stop was at the Falls of Bruar. The falls are
hidden away behind the House of Bruar, a well-known and very expensive Scottish
store, which is visited by hundreds of tourists each day. Sadly, I don’t think
many of them venture past the cashmere hall – they have no idea what they’re
missing.
The short walk up to the falls takes you across two lovely old bridges and through some lovely woodland. We were concerned that so late in the year we would miss the autumn colours. We need not have worried.
‘Just look at the COLOURS’ became my trademark line for the trip.
Next we made our way up to the tiny town of Carrbridge, just
outside Inverness, to visit the bridge of the same name. Also known as the Old
Packhorse Bridge, the Carrbridge was built in 1717 and was the only way to
cross the River Dulnain.
Now I love this bridge, but look at it, can you imagine
taking a horse over that thing? Terrifying, I know. Apparently it did once have
sidewalls, but still!
After scooting around Inverness we were beginning to lose
light so began the hunt for our first camping spot. We were quite proud at the
end of the trip that we managed to avoid staying in any actual campsites at any
point – we were too adventurous for that.
I will admit that the first night we spent parked in a
forestry commission I found it more than a little creepy. The thought ‘no one
to hear you scream’ popped into my head more than once. I got over that quickly
though.
Day two took us up to Ullapool, home of the Caledonian
MacBrayne ferry to the Isle of Lewis. Sadly, Lewis was not our destination this
time – but look for a future post!
Backtracking slightly, we decided to take the Wester Ross
(GoT fans – say that out loud) Coastal Route down to Kyle of Lochalsh. The
route took about a day and a half and was gorgeous.
We stopped in at the spectacular Falls of Measach, which we
actually drove past at first, then decided we should probably turn back as
there were quite a few people stopped there. Gosh were we glad we did! On the
walk down we pondered how big the falls would be. The same size as the Falls of
Bruar? Maybe a little bigger?
Then we heard the rumbling. The Falls of Measach are in a
slot-gorge, a very narrow, steep sided chasm, and have a drop of 45m.
It was quite something. There is a suspension bridge over the gorge that gives a wonderful, but impossible to capture, view of the falls.
Next stop was at Little Gruinard Beach – the first of many
gorgeous Scottish beaches I have now seen. We were quite blessed with sunshine
on this particular day. The sun would emerge at each stop for just enough time
to have a little explore, then the rain would start falling as we left.
It’s a shame that luck didn’t hold out for the whole trip.
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| We took cute selfies throughout the trip with our cute van. Get ready for a lot of this. |
We spent our second night in Shieldaig – an adorable wee
fishing village right on the coast.
The very nice people of Shieldaig had made a small field
available for campers making their way down the Wester Ross route. It was
perched right on the edge of a cliff, facing out into the ocean. A lovely spot,
truly.
Little did we know a relentless three-day storm was about to
sweep across the west coast of Scotland, making a cliff with no protection from
the elements a pretty dodgy place to hunker down for the night!
We gave up on the campsite at 1am after being shaken awake
by the wind. Although I knew that the van probably couldn’t actually be blown over, it was still
fairly terrifying weather. So we drove a little way back into town and took
refuge next to a church…that’s what churches are for, right? To provide
sanctuary and whatnot?
We continued through Westeros on our third morning,
successfully avoiding any bloody battles or family feuds. The only evil blond
around was Gus, who had by now developed a habit (which he is yet to kick) of
gleefully making fun of my accent at every opportunity.
We also possibly encountered the worst weather that day. We
didn’t pass a single river that hadn’t broken its banks, roads were flooded and
it was just generally pretty disgusting. Powerful winds buffeted us around endlessly
and the rain was on a mission to soak us from every direction.
I heard a saying not too long ago about the unpredictability
of the weather in Scotland – ‘if you’re not happy with it, just wait four
minutes’. Well we waited all day, and I didn’t get any happier!
There were highlights to the day though. I submitted an
essay (yes, I do sometimes do uni) and, much more enjoyable, we got to spend
the afternoon with Mama and Papa Gus. By a nice coincidence Gus’ parentals had
spent the night not far from us. It was a little worrying to find out that they
had left the Isle of Skye ahead of schedule to get away from the ghastly
weather, as Skye was where we were heading.
Mostly undaunted by the weather warning, we continued to
Skye that evening. The Skye Bridge has connected Skye to the mainland since
1995. As a result, it’s quite easy to forget that you’re on an island. It has
also made Skye the most touristy island, but thanks to both the weather and it
being the off-season there weren’t too many people around.
Gus’ mum told me a little bit of the history of the Skye
Bridge, which I found very amusing. The bridge, built to combat long
queues for the ferries, was expected to have a toll of about 40p upon opening.
The toll actually ended up being just over £11, so the locals simply refused to
pay it. Some would take the fines and never pay them. Others would drive their
cars to the tollbooths, park them, and walk the rest of the way. This went on
for years, with locals receiving heavy fines and some being sent to prison,
before the toll on the bridge was finally abolished. It has been free since
2004.
We ended up doing quite well out of the weather really. We
had one wild, wet day and one day of sunshine. Of course the wild, wet day was
the one we decided to go for a little hike up to the Old Man of Storr.
The walk up the Storr is one of the most popular on Skye. On
this particular day there were few people mad enough to be out attempting it.
Something you probably all know about me is that I don’t
make a habit of leaving the comfort of the indoors to brave any serious
elements. But I had seen some of Gus’ pictures of the Old Man and really wanted
to see it for myself.
So we rugged up, donned out waterproofs and off we went. One
of the most memorable things about the walk was the wind. I have never
experienced anything like it. It was deafening, cold and extremely unbalancing!
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| Ready. |
Some people have sure feet - they bound up rocky inclines,
down muddy trails, over crevasses and through rivers without missing a beat. By
‘some people’ I of course mean Gus. Some people, like me, have distinctly
unsure feet.
Partly due to the scenery, but mostly due to this contrast –
doing that walk with Gus made me think of the scene in the Lord of the Rings
where Gimli and Legolas are tracking the hobbits through Rohan. You know the
bit. Where Legolas is gracefully running along and Gimli is trailing along
behind, puffing away, shouting ‘we dwarves are natural sprinters!’
You get the picture.
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| So Gimli. |
We made it to the top and it was really quite amazing. The
Old Man of Storr is a 50m pinnacle of basalt that dominates the view from all
around. So I’m told anyway, it was impossible to see much more than the base of it
through the fog. But I swear, after much slipping, sliding, crawling and
huddling, I did get to it.
See the following pictures of me looking thrilled as
evidence.
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| My jacket couldn't cope with the wind at all. Very flattering. |
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| Trying not to get blown over... |
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| I don't know what I'm doing here... |
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| Great view of the surrounds. |
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| The Old Man himself. |
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| Celebratory I-made-it-up-and-back-without-falling-down selfie. |
The walk up the Storr may not sound like fun during a storm,
and I may not look like I was having the time of my life, but it was fantastic.
It was one of the highlights of the trip!
After returning to our lovely van, changing into dry
clothes, warming up with hot soup and laughing smugly at very wet walkers
returning to their cars, we continued to make our way around the northern loop
of Skye.
We got completely soaked once again at the Mealt Falls
lookout, took a wander up to Duntulm Castle and generally enjoyed the gorgeous
views that Skye has to offer.
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| What a helpful sign. |
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| Duntulm Castle. |
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| Such a tourist. I love seeing phone boxes in the middle of nowhere. |
The western loop of Skye is also beautiful, and was made
even more beautiful by the first sunshine we had seen in days! We woke on our
fifth day to the sound of silence, rather than the sound of rain bashing down
to which we had become accustomed. The storm had finally blown over to the
mainland, where it would continue to wreak havoc for days to come.
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| Pretty Portree - our home for two nights. |
We chased sunshine all day – up to Dunvegan, across to Neist
Point – the most westerly point of Skye, down to Sligachan and eventually back
across the Skye Bridge.
There is a very odd, slightly eerie lighthouse at Neist
Point, a tiny finger of land that juts out from the western coast. At some
point it had been converted to private accommodation, but then seemingly
abandoned in a hurry. All of the beds and paperwork and equipment had just been
left there. Eventually people just started breaking in…
From there we spent the day making our way towards the
Cuillen Hills. Each turn in the road providing a new, stunning view. It was a
truly lovely road.
We stopped off at the Old Bridge at Sligachan for a couple
of photos. The bridge was very nice, but it was the river and the backdrop of
the Cuillen Hills that made this spot so spectacular.
Our final stop on Skye was at an impressive waterfall just
off of the main road. We had a quick climb to the top, I nearly lost my wellies
once or twice but it was good fun.
The mud over here can be so deceptive – it looks solid and
then it swallows half your leg! Another challenge for uncoordinated folk!
The Isle of Skye is completely gorgeous; it is well worth a
visit if any of you make it to Scotland. The countryside goes from barren amber
to vibrant green, dramatic cliffs to black beaches and blue water bays. Just
amazing.
Looking for a spot to park for the night back on the
mainland we drove halfway up a huge thickly wooded hill in pitch darkness
before finding somewhere suitable. By this point we had developed quite a knack
for picking the best camping spots. This is the view that greeted us in the
morning. Not bad, eh?
Day six was undoubtedly the highlight of the trip for both
of us. Following the recommendation of a friend, we had always planned to visit
Loch Hourn. We had ummed and aahed over it a couple of times, but in the end we
did it. I can’t express how glad I am we did.
The road past Loch Quoich to Loch Hourn is a narrow, windy track
that is not really designed for camper vans. It took us most of the day to get
all the way down it and all the way back – but it was a day well spent.
The leaves were falling so the road was covered in red and
gold foliage. It was a perfectly still day so the water was like a mirror,
providing spectacular reflections.
Along the way we were lucky enough to spot more than a dozen
stags and a couple of doe. I love deer. I just think they are the most
magnificent, majestic creatures. The doe were quite skittish, but the stags
were more than happy to continue munching away on grass while we sat admiring
them. It was amazing.
When we finally reached Kinloch Hourn it was breathtaking.
We have agreed that our only regret of the trip is that we
didn’t get to spend more time here. I wish I could have spent a week exploring
and taking in the views. Sadly, we could only stay a short time.
In that short time though, it was decided that we should go
for a swim. The decision to jump in probably took longer than that swim itself,
and I’m pretty sure that in the end Gus, whose idea it was in the first place,
only went in because he didn’t want to be shown up by a girl!
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| 'It's not actually that cold...' |
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| 'Looks pretty damn cold...' |
I cant tell you how cold the water was – it took my breath
away instantly and I could feel my body entering major freak out mode by the
time I swam out to the buoy, which we had decided was our goal, and back. It
may not look that far, but in water that cold it certainly felt it!
Though arguably quite silly, it was a very invigorating
swim. I would do it again in a second!
After we dragged ourselves away from the beautiful loch we
drove to Glenfinnan Viaduct via Fort William.
Fort William seemed like a pretty depressing place to me. I
didn’t see a single person in the whole town smile…we didn’t feel the need to stop
and look around.
I was soon smiling like a fool though because we were on our
way to one of my favourite filming locations. For anyone who doesn’t recognise
this viaduct, it has featured in several of the Harry Potter films. Isn’t it
just magnificent?
A train went over while we were there, but it wasn’t the
Hogwarts Express and it didn’t stop for me anyway. Sigh.
After chasing a beautiful sunset west past Loch Eilt and
Loch Ailort we finally found somewhere to stop for the night. It was quite the task
because unlike up north, where the cute towns give you a whole field, any empty
land down here had a big angry ‘no overnight camping’ sign warning us off.
But we managed to find a good spot in the end, as always.
We paid a brief visit to Mallaig the next morning and then
reluctantly turned south – the start of the long trek back to Edinburgh.
Along the way we stopped at An Caisteal Tioram – the Dry
Castle. Before we decided whether to bother braving the flooded road to get
there, Gus asked me if I liked abandoned castles. This question really stuck
with me.
The Dry Castle was built in the 1300s. My hometown in
Australia just celebrated its centenary. Whether or not I like abandoned
castles isn’t something I had ever really had to think about!
I can now confirm that I do like abandoned castles. The only
problem with this particular castle was that you had to cross a tidal causeway
to get to it and, of course, the tide was in.
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| Am I going to make it? |
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| No. |
But what can you do at times like these but take your
wellies and socks off and just get on with it?
That afternoon we made our only truly poor decision of the
whole trip - the decision to quickly zip out to Ardnamuchan Lighthouse. Our sat
nav, the usually reliable Jennifer, told us it wouldn’t take too long.
She lied.
It took hours. Hours on Scotland’s worst road. It was bumpy
as anything and there was nothing but sheep to look at. The worst part of it
was that the lighthouse was probably the least interesting one we saw. I didn’t
even take a photo.
That aside, the rest of the day was nice. We visited
Resipole Studios, a lovely little gallery with some lovely works (including
some by our very own Mr Gus), and then moseyed on across to the Corran ferry.
We also stopped briefly on the way at little wildlife
lookout. Scottish wildlife is amazing. After seeing plenty of deer, highland
cows and different birds, I had decided I wanted to see an otter. I love
otters. They’re so damn cute.
Sadly, I didn’t have any luck, but we did see a big, fat,
happy colony of seals – so that was an acceptable substitute.
We got the wee Corran ferry, which only takes about five
minutes but cuts out a substantial amount of driving, and made camp along the
very pretty Loch Leven.
Our final day was a slightly depressing one. It’s always hard
to get excited about going back to work or uni after a lovely holiday, but
there were some lovely sites to see yet.
It was a beautiful drive south through Glencoe and the
Trossachs National Park, past the stunning Kelpies at Falkirk and back on into
Edinburgh.
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| Missed the memo about trying to look cool... |
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| Take two... |
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| The Falls of Dochart |
I was sad to be back in Edinburgh after such a fantastic
week away, but not to worry – I was convinced to ignore uni for a little longer
so there was another road trip coming up a mere 20 hours later. More on that
next time!
If you made it all the way through this post I’m very
impressed and grateful – thank you for reading. I hope I have inspired some of
you to explore the Highlands one day. Photos don’t do justice, you really must come and discover Scotland for yourselves.
