Lochearnhead

This morning nearly all the vans left early. Why, because at eight o' clock the parking charges began. Before we left, having invested in parking time, we walked up to the supermarket for a couple of items. In a charity shop window, we saw a poster for a staff position. Everywhere we have visited whilst in Scotland there has appeared to be a shortage of staff. In the same shop a sign read, Summer, we sell brollies. Very apt for Scotland. 

Our first stop today was the Birk Falls at Aberfeldy. As we approached the town, we noticed a caravan park. Quick, turnaround Marge. Result. Five pounds paid and we were able to empty all our waste and refill with water. We were away from the west coast, suddenly the cost of this service had returned to a reasonable price.

The Birk Falls are famous for being a place of inspiration for the poet and lyricist Robert Burns. As we walked up through the mixed woodland, we could hear the water of the Moness Falls further on. Under foot a smattering of early fallen leaves not yet dry enough to be crisp and crackle underfoot marked the way. Don't look down was the advice to Angela high in the gorge. On second thoughts, come down here, you must take this photograph. The falls were pretty but not as spectacular as they will be in a few months' time after more rainfall and snow melt. Back at Marge we were able to sit out at a picnic table to eat our lunch, something we hadn't done for a long while. 

Mid-afternoon we stopped at the pretty village of Kenmore alongside Loch Tay.

 Then on to Killin where we managed to squeeze Marge in to a tight space so we could photograph the powerful waters of the Falls of Dochart. 

Tonight, we are parked with two other vans. This is the last stop before entering the Trossachs National Park where until the end of September you need to apply for a permit to stop overnight. 

Rest up Marge. Who knows what driving lies ahead for you tomorrow.

Pitlochry

We were in no rush to leave this morning. The wind was lighter, but it was still raining. It was eleven o' clock before we'd tidied Marge and put her washing machine away. As we pulled out of our space a warning light came on. What now Marge? Side light bulb gone. Thank god. Nothing major then. After a while it went out. Stop messing around Marge. The drive this morning was challenging. As the wind blew a curtain of rain across the road the visibility was not great. What on earth was it like on the Isle of Skye? We'd left there to escape this weather. At Spean Bridge we took the road towards the Cairngorms National Park. Then the sun came out.

We stopped at the Laggan Dam. And the sun went in. We've just got to go with it, Marge. 

Leaving the rolling hills of the Cairngorms behind we found ourselves on the A9. To us and Marge it felt like being on a motorway after all the single-track roads of the last two weeks. The fast road took us up to 1,519 feet above sea level. Flippin' heck Marge, we're really living life in the fast lane. 

Our stop tonight is at Pitlochry. For some reason the vans are only allowed in one of the car parks. With Marge are 13 other vans and a micro camper which is right next to us.

A Citroen Berlingo, the same car as we have back at home. We have recently bought a boot jump to turn our Berlingo in to a micro camper to use for overnight kayaking trips, so were interested to see the man's set up. It was pretty well stocked, which we suppose he needed as he'd been travelling around Scotland for three months. We might bring our micro camper up to Scotland, we'll see. We'd have to call it Wee Margie. Charming thought Marge, just forget about me. Never. 

Angela had wanted to return to Pitlochry as she had fond memories of visiting the town when she was twelve years old and came to this area on a family holiday. She remembers the lovely farmhouse B&B they stayed in and the pretty town. That pretty town has gone. Busy, touristy, lots of empty shops, including large knitwear and tartan shops. Covid had obviously deprived the town of the foreign visitors it so relies on.

Despite the light rain, we walked down to the dam and the fish ladder, past the Pitlochry Festival Theatre and back to Marge via a leafy lane where the signs of autumn showed. 

Back at Marge Angela was a little sad that her memories of the town were a little dashed. Pitlochry had moved on. There was even a Greggs here now. Bacon roll for breakfast tomorrow Marge?

Laggan

Yesterday evening after looking at the weather forecast for the west coast of Scotland over next few days, we decided we must move inland. Rain, rain and more rain. Decision made we set the alarm for an early start as the forecast for today was high winds of 45 mph and we had to drive Marge over the Skye bridge by 10.30 am. 

We were ready to leave just before nine this morning. Right Marge let's do this. Her exit from Skye was supposed to be sedate, shopping, toilet emptying, water topped up, that had all gone out the window. Marge on the run, we focused on the journey, the wind gusting in places throwing Marge a little.

The cloud was low, but the scenery still stunning in its own way. We did quickly stop for fuel. Come on, I'm a celebrity get me out of here. Alright Marge. 

Sat in the car park in the Kyle of Lochalsh we caught our breath. What had just happened, we passed over the bridge with relative ease. The wind was behind us, not catching us broadside which had been our fear. However, as we regrouped over a coffee, outside the wind speed increased. Angela went to the shops, and a lady commented on it being a wild day. After finalising our route, we headed off towards Glen Shiel. Just a couple miles along the road our first stop. 

The Murchison memorial, found at the end of a short pretty walk-through silver birch trees and fungi. Then Eilean Donan castle appeared in sight, so we turned in. A very nice parking attendant allowed us to park free for a couple of minutes to photograph the castle.

Then a beautiful drive passing close to the mountains, the Five Sisters towering above us. Stunning. At one point we pulled over to let the traffic pass by.

Another van pulled in as well. A couple we had met on our third night away at the Caerlaverlock castle site, Ken and Sandy emerged from it. John had told them about Ardtoe on the Ardumurchan peninsula. On his advice they visited there, staying for two nights and loved it. We chatted for a while about our trips and heard how they stopped at campsites to do their washing. You want one of these. From Marge we produced our bucket. It's the latest model, collapsible for easy storage. If Marge had her way, she'd have a twin tub installed in her. Bidding them safe travelling we also set off. 

A late lunch at Glen Garry viewpoint car park turned in to 'one of those moments'. A piper arrived and began entertaining us. John asked him to play Amazing Grace in memory of his late mother. It has to be said there wasn't a dry eye in the house, was there Marge? After, the piper pointed across the road, a five-minute walk would take us to a point where we would see a view of the loch in the shape of mainland Scotland. Which we did. It was surreal. 

Tonight, we are staying amongst the trees at Laggan Loch.

On one side of the lock is Loch Lochy, and the other, Loch Oich which leads into the Caledonian canal and on to Loch Ness. The wind is still persisting, but during the night it should blow itself out. We are a little sad to have had to abandon our journey further up the west coast, but hey, we're not done yet, there's more of Scotland we want to visit before returning home.

The Raspberries are very few and far between at this time of the year unfortunately.

Portree

This morning a grey sky brought wind and rain. A peaceful night though, no noise from about eleven o' clock when a lorry arrived. The early ferry did not appear to run, so it was eight o' clock, when the vehicles arriving for the nine fifteen sailing that Uig began to wake up. We weren't envious of the people about to board the ferry, their crossing looked like it might be a little rough. We had considered visiting some of the other islands whilst here, but decided we wanted to plan our trip properly after some research. We have thought about cycling the Hebridean Way, a cycle route of 185 miles using two ferries and six causeways to hop between the islands. Angela was sixty in 2020, and because of covid we still haven't celebrated it. This might be the trip. 

The heavy rain delayed our departure this morning. At eleven o' clock the cloud lifted off the mountains and the rain stopped. Right Marge go for it.

Up at the viewpoint above Uig on the road to Portree, we stopped to make a video call to Angela's son Chris so we could speak to him about his work and talk to, and see our grandson, Elliot. Don't want him forgetting who we are, (especially now we've moved away from him).  The call was very entertaining with Elliot showing us how to eat crisps and insisting we see his nostrils. Why we needed to see this, well you know, three-year-olds and all that. 

We wanted to arrive in Portree by lunchtime, as last year when we were here, we'd seen one of the fish and chips shops was selling half a lobster and chips for virtually the same price as fish and chips. Sadly, no more. They had gone, replaced by a cafe. Looking around no one else was selling it either. After gearing ourselves up for this meal and now disappointed, we had to revert back to the traditional fish and chips. Before arriving in the town, we stopped at a large co-op store for supplies. No sparkling mineral water, what would we do, we drink about two litres a day. Well, there's always wine Marge suggested.

In the car park was an unusual camper conversion. What do you think Marge? No way!

Portree meaning Kings Port is the capital of Skye, so of course this small town was very busy. Since last year the car park has been enlarged and about six more motorhome spaces created, but for some reason only the four original ones can be used for staying overnight. Why? A banner in the town asks people to buy in the local shops and businesses. Are you catching my, drift? Marge of course has bagged one of these spaces. The young lady next to us is walking the Skye Trail. A challenging hill walk covering most of the length of Skye. Hang on, we think we may have done some of it. Me too. O.K. Marge. The other side we have a nice young couple with a baby and a dog in a hire van They don't really like it because it's so clean inside and they feel they might ruin it with their muddy boots. The boots are the least of your problem, you've a dog and a small child in there. 

This afternoon the weather settled so we walked out of the town a little way. John sat by the harbour looking for overnight stops, whilst Angela walked along the Scorrybreac trail for about half a mile. The views across the bay towards the island of Raasay were beautiful. Upon our return to Marge suddenly we heard a woman cry out. A man was sprawled on the floor just near to Marge. As usual a throng of people appeared trying to drag the poor man to his feet. Leave him where he is Angela advised them. No, someone falls to the ground, so let's pull the poor soul up and sit them down. It materialised the man had been stung on the throat by a wasp about ten minutes earlier. He had passed out, falling on to his face. He seemed a little spaced out. John called an ambulance. A retired doctor arrived on the scene and suggested the man lay down, see, leave the man on the ground. He was worried he might pass out again.

The result, not one but two ambulances. After sometime he was discharged to his motorhome for a lie down. Thank goodness he didn't pass out whilst driving. 

Today has been a funny day. Quiet, and we were going to say uneventfully. We bought a book on foraging and a pocket map of the outer Hebrides in the local bookshop. Does that mean we qualify to stay the night? Please Portree, open your town up to more overnighting vans, the owners have money to spend.