Portree

Yesterdays travelling had been hard, but this morning we were glad we had pressed on and were now on the Isle of Skye.

The morning views across the Kyle of Lochalsh towards the bridge and across the harbour to Moil castle were pleasing after arriving in the dark yesterday evening. First though we needed to book a ferry ticket across to Harris so we drove down to the ferry terminal at Armadale to ask them to help. Because of the disruption to services due to the overhaul of the ageing fleet, we basically accepted the ferry times and destinations we were offered. So tomorrow early afternoon we sail from Skye to Harris. Our return sailing on April 25th is from North Uist, with another ferry needing to be booked to take us across from Harris to the Uists's. Nothing's easy, is it?

Having visited Skye a few times now, we had no need to see the sights. As we drove towards Portree we could see the Old man of Storr precariously perched on a steep rocky face that overlooks the Sound of Raasay.

We have walked up to it three times in the past. We did not fancy a fourth.

Instead, we settled Marge in one of the overnight campervan parking spaces in the centre of the town and walked out to the Scorrybreac trail, a walk of just under two miles. Nearly everyone we met was walking towards us. Of course, we, unaware why, were walking the trail anti-clockwise.

There are quite a few steps to climb when you round the corner, we were informed by two ladies. A few steps, so what. After an ascent of nearly 550 feet, wheezing and gasping, we sat on a well placed seat to admire the view. Angela had felt she needed a walk out to ease her aches and pains. Tonight, she'll probably find she's added to them. 

We have vans from Holland and France here with us tonight, so we expect it to be quiet. Into the unknown tomorrow, Marge. Let's hope the fine weather forecast holds and we don't end up marooned in the Outer Hebrides.

Kyleakin

In the last few days, we saw our first swallow, but as we know, one swallow doesn't make a summer. Today we saw our first midge, or smidge if we'd caught it. We'd decided to change our plans, loose as they were. We're now not visiting Mull or Ardnamurchan as time is slipping by and we really want to visit some of the outer Hebridean islands, mindful that by the beginning of May we need to be somewhere near to Aberfeldy. So much to see Marge, so little time. 

So today we must make haste. Leaving behind our fantastic overnight location we bade farewell to the seals who'd returned to bask on the rocks. A stop at Oban to top up on food ready for our island adventures, lunching and trying to book ferry tickets. After nearly an hour and a half, we gave up. The CalMac online booking system was having none of it. The onward drive to Fort William, gateway to the highlands took us through stunning landscapes with beautiful scenery.

Deciding to press on further we stopped, as we always do when we pass this way at the Commando Memorial just near to Spean Bridge. The view today even more stunning with snow on the mountains that surround it. Today was turning out to be a very long day of travelling and the vista lifted our spirits.

Not happy with our choice of overnight stop, and with daylight fading we journeyed on to the Isle of Skye. Disruption to the ferry timetables meant we couldn't sail from Mallaig to Skye, so we'd had to drive. At 8.45 pm we were on Skye, fish and chips bought, but still with no overnight stop, as the one we'd headed to at Broadford was now a no, no. So, we backtracked eight miles to the old slipway at Kyleakin just near the road bridge where we joined another van.

Time now 9.45 pm. We'd left Kintyre at 10.10 this morning. Wine Marge? What a day. But what a drive. We'd seen some fantastic sights, but now were exhausted. Tomorrow Marge a chill day.

Southend

This morning the sun rose above the island of Arran, its silvery light more of the moon, cast a spotlight on Marge. The snow on the islands peaks no more, we could feel the day would be our warmest yet. Just after nine, two ladies arrived, de-robed and took to the water. Good on them, not for us though. Back on dry land, all on display, they seemed in no rush to dress and warm up. Keen to make an early start, we were away by nine-thirty. Firstly, Marge there are some 14% gradients to climb. Rest assured, we're not too keen either. 

Campbeltown just a few hair-raising miles down the coast, was our first stop. the leisure centre in fact, where £2.50 buys you a nice hot shower and, the ultimate, use of a hairdryer. Scotland is really geared up for van people, cyclists and walkers, offering shower facilities at village halls, ferry terminals and sports facilities. We have decided to use them sometimes this trip to take the pressure of Marge. And who doesn't like a hairdryer? £5.00 well spent we walked into town to see the Linda Mcarthy memorial garden, which wasn't much and turned out to be a bit of a disappointment. 

Our final destination today the Mull of Kintyre. Southend (not the one in Essex), is a small village at the tip of Kintyre. We had come to see the ruins of St. Columba's chapel and well, St. Columba's footprints, and the Keil caves. Also, the basking seals, of which there were many lying on the rocks in the afternoon sun. We sat a while and watched them before walking along the beach, combing it as we went. If the weather holds, we will cook sausages on our gas grill this evening. So far there are three vans here in total, but it is such a beautiful spot we expect more to join us this evening. For now, we will enjoy the view across to Ailsa Craig and the coast of Ireland.

Torrisdale

Before leaving Loch Fyne, which was outstandingly beautiful in the early morning sunshine, we bought crayfish sandwiches and a black pudding sausage roll from the deli for our lunch. The crayfish sandwiches were delish! The black pudding sausage roll not so.

First stop this morning Tarbert. A small town on the west coast. We walked up to the castle and around the shops, buying a book on the outer Hebridean islands for later in our trip. Castle day to day Marge.

Skipness castle on the side of the Kintyre peninsula afforded views across to the island of Arran. The sun shone, and we took our time walking back to the van alongside banks of daffodils. In the woods wild garlic grew in abundance. A stash of it now in Marge's fridge. 

Tonight, Marge has the best spot in a very small parking area just off the road adjacent to the beach. Our view is still Arran, standing proud in the evening light. Angela collected driftwood for a project she has planned at home and John sat and watched two seals in the shallows.

Soon the weather broke, and as every night since we arrived in Scotland it rained, heavily. But we didn't care, we knew the sun would shine on us again tomorrow.

Loch Fyne Oysters, Clachan.

A restful night last night at the castle corner campsite Best nights sleep for Angela in a while. Before leaving we spoke to a couple of our fellow travellers. One, a young girl around eighteen/nineteen was off to Ireland, then taking a ferry over to northern Spain to then drive to Portugal, Southern Spain and if there was time Italy. We wished her a safe journey. Having driven some of this route ourselves we gave her a few tips. As Marge slipped out of the site, the morning sun caught the tops of the ruffling waves in the Solway Firth. Today our adventure would begin properly, we were in Scotland now. Bring it on Marge.

Once pass Glasgow we drove alongside Loch Lomond, which was beautiful, interesting and a little dangerous. Eyes on the road Angela, not on the view. It was hard to concentrate, the mountains topped with snow were fascinating. Then the weather changed, four seasons in a few hours. Heavy icy rain made us pull over for five minutes, then cold wind made us retreat back into Marge after we stopped high up in the mountains to take photographs. But the sun kept reappearing, and we soon forgot the earlier cold rain. 

Our stop tonight is in the car park of Loch Fyne Oysters at Clachan. The view from Marge down Loch Fyne is fantastic, just as the view towards the snow topped mountains is. 

Suffering from cabin fever, having spent so much time in Marge these last few days of travelling we walked out. Angela tripped over a bramble, despite a warning to be careful from John, which she did not hear. Ouch! Now she has very sore and swollen knees. 'What a liability'. O.K. Marge, that'll do. Despite the rain closing in for the night, we are snug in Marge, and looking forward to tomorrow when we will drive down to the Mull of Kintyre. Fingers crossed for fine weather.