Clachan Sands, North Uist

Yesterday evening we sat inside the Calmac ferry booking hall until they closed. The rain wouldn't relent and it made more sense to sit and read in a more spacious area. 

Back at Marge a German couple came over to take a look. After that John couldn't find the vehicle's ignition key and steering lock key. We tried looking in all the obvious places to no avail. Feeling more than a little concerned we literally turned the inside out. Cushions moved, cupboards emptied. Even the roof rack was checked. Nothing. Fortunately Angela had the spare set of keys, but we really needed to find the other set. We even reported to rummaging through the waste bins, so desperate had the situation become. Needless to say we suffered a disturbed nights sleep what with the concern and yet more door slammers near us!

This morning we rise at six thirty to search again. Nothing. A decision had to be made. Should we take our sailing to North Uist or stay on Skye in the hope the keys would turn up? North Uist won. After all we'd driven Marge the VW around Europe for five years with just one ignition key. Not such a clever idea we know.

Before joining the departure queue John left his contact details at the booking desk in case someone found the keys and handed them in. We didn't hold out much hope. We were convinced if we emptied out Muddy Marge again we might find them, hopefully. 

Then John's mobile rang. Were we still in Uig? Were we in the ferry queue? Yes and yes. A staff member on the pier had the keys and would hand them to us just before we boarded. That moment was a real game changer. We can't explain the relief. Angela told the young man who had them she could kiss him, but wouldn't. Just like her mother!

As the Hebridean slipped it's berth and cut through the calm water we placed ourselves first in the queue at the restaurant and ordered two full breakfasts. Angela vegetarian, John a full Scottish. Not sure he enjoyed the large piece of Lorne (square sausage) though. Tired, but now elated we settled down for the rest of the crossing. The north coast of Skye passed by the windows, rocky outcrops covered in green baize. Time to leave the island to today's influx of tourists. One million people are expected to visit this Skye this year.Thats a lot of pressure on a small island.

No rain today, just a cold north easterly wind which whipped across the open land of north Uist. But we don't care. The fact it was no longer raining was good enough for us. Our first stop on the island Clachan Sands, an area above a beautiful beach of white sand was just over a half hour drive away. We headed for it knowing there was water available so we could do some hand washing. A long walk down the vast beach collecting shells along the way and then a walk back through the machair stopping to photograph the pretty mix of flowers. White daisies, golden buttercups, birds-foot trefoil, yellow rattle and ladies bedstraw. Nearby in the sandy banks of the dunes rabbits burrowed and plovers and oystercatchers sounded the alert as four ravens circled and dived around them. 

The views here are amazing, especially now the tide has retreated so far out revealing the flat sands silvery in the late afternoon light. We've come to the Uists for peace and quiet. Hopefully we've found it. The donation in the honesty box is ten pounds to stay here. We think you can't put a price on such a magical place.

Uig, Isle of Skye

Thanks neighbours! At five o'clock clock this morning the family in the motorhome next to us started packing up, loudly. Very loudly. Some people are so inconsiderate. So feeling in need of some comfort we made delicious fried egg sandwiches for breakfast. Just the job. Overhead American fighters circled. The roar of their engines deafening. But we didn't mind. These manoeuvres and practice runs necessary in these troubled times.

All sorted, and last to leave the little park up, we headed back to Portree, stopping to photograph Angela's favourite sight on the island. The Old Man of Storr. Today the cloud retreated enough so the rocky eastern face could be clearly seen. Stunning. 

Who in their right mind visits Portree during school holidays? Apparently we do. The place was rammed. John told motorhomes in the mini bus parking bays they should move or be ticketed, much to the amusement of some drivers. We then found the shortest queue to buy fish and chips, and sat down by the water to eat them. On the way back we saw a row of 6 motorhomes with yellow tickets on their windscreens. And then the rain began. Yet again. Come on summer, time to show yourself. 

Tomorrow we are booked on an early ferry to North Uist. Public showers there are virtually non existence. So we stopped off at the swimming pool to use their facilities once again. Unfortunately the pool was busy and we'd have to wait until five which was too late. However, we were directed to the Skye Gym on the edge of town. Four pounds each and a huge wet room to ourselves. Jackpot! Probably won't bother with the swimming Poole facilities again.

Uig ferry Port is undergoing a massive upgrade, so anyone staying overnight can now stay in the visitors car park by the terminal building. Which we prefer. Once again it is raining relentlessly, but the forecast for Uig looks a little better, so fingers crossed as we need to catch up on some washing. We're not sure how long we'll stay out on the outer Hebridean islands. As always we have no real plan.

Staffin Beach, Isle of Skye

There were seven of us at last nights stop. That's the internet for you, now everyone knows about these pretty little places. What they may not know is the roads out are horrendous. Ascents and descents of 15%. We've driven these roads before in our campervan and Angela vowed never again, she still does!

Once again the morning dawned gloomy. It had rained all night and the cloud cloaked the mountains. It seems the weather is not yet ready to accept it's summer. 

Aware of the limited availability on ferries to the outer Hebrides we decided this morning to book a ferry to Lochmaddy in North Uist, then catch a ferry back to Harris and then back to the mainland over the next week or so. Worst case we'd be stuck on the Outer Hebrides. Oh dear! So more shopping was purchased at a large Coop where we met a lady and her daughter we'd spoken with yesterday evening. They've been van lifers since last summer and like us were in no rush. We are examples of people who wander, but are not lost. 

As expected Skye is busy. A snake of vehicles in both directions. Angela has a love hate feel for the island. She hates it is so busy, but loves its beautiful scenery. She also accepts we make up part of the snake. Our ferry from Uig now booked we stopped at the sports centre in Portree to take showers. Concessions? We most certainly are! £2.20 each then. And the water was hot. Result.

Then time to find an overnight stop. Staffin Beach, where we have stayed before is a little further north on the island. Our route took us past many of the 'must see' tourist spots. Waterfalls, The Old Man of Storr, shrouded in cloud and Kilt Rock. But we didn't need to stop. We've visited them all before. Staffin Beach is famous for it's Dinosaur footprints. Seventeen in total. We managed to spot three today.

It's busy here, no suprise there. But we've managed to tuck in between two large vans which is great as it is windy and they offer us some protection. For now the rain has retreated, but no doubt it will return.

Fish fingers in rolls with salad for tonight's meal all prepared inside. We have a system now, and suddenly our inside space doesn't seem so intimate. And Angela has discovered the Boxio makes a very nice coffee table for her wine!

Tokavaig, Isle of Skye

Yesterday evening was one of those perfect evenings. Down on the beach people camped and cooked over fires. Others sat just enjoying the view. And what a view it was. All in all a perfect evening.

This morning the singing of empty bottles accompanied the bleary eyed of those who'd over consumed. But everyone was cheery. 

There was no rush for us to leave as our sailing to Skye wasn't until six o'clock clock. Never the less we were in Mallaig by mid morning.

A queue for the single public shower was already forming. John was at the head of it and appeared to be the only person to have a hot shower. The rest of us a cold one. But a cold shower is better than no shower. 

The clouds hung low until lunchtime when they decided to empty on all of us whilst waiting in the queue for fish and chips. But we weren't disillusioned. Back at Muddy Marge we found a seat under cover by the toilets (classy), and enjoyed our haddock and chips with homemade tartare sauce. A coach arrived, opened it's exit door and released fifty elderly ladies who all headed to the loo. Confusion. There was one entrance and one exit. No ladies and gents. John told the ladies the toilets were unisex. Word went down the line, they're unisex you know!

With a couple of hours to spare, and our walk for the day complete we sought out a tea room and spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying coffee cake. This was the life. And to make it more pleasurable the sun made an appearance. Our ferry departure time looming, we stopped to top up on fuel enroute to the terminal. After a few words at the terminal where John was told to remove our outside gas tank, and questioned about our overlanding roof top jerry cans we were aboard.

Next stop Skye.

Arriving at Armadale we drove over some of the worst roads single track roads we have encountered to arrive once more at a beach looking over to the Cuillins.

Morar Beach Car Park, near Mallaig.

There is much spectacular scenery and many tranquil places in Scotland, to us Ardtoe is one of them. Always beautiful, always quiet. But we've stayed here a few times now, so after taking advantage of the unlimited fresh water available by the old fisherman's shed to catch up on our washing, we decided to move a little nearer to Mallaig. But every stopping place was either too near the road, or already occupied by a person living in a van or caravan. Perhaps we should have stayed at Ardtoe. Fortunately John discovered that the beach car park at Morar allowed vans to stay overnight at a cost of ten pounds. 

Ten pounds well spent we think. Arriving just after lunch we waited patiently for someone to leave then bagged a space. Toilets open twenty-four hours, always a bonus, and a walk through some trees to a beautiful vast beach of silver sand made us glad we'd made the decision to move. 

All day Muddy Marge has been admired. Cool camper. Cool truck. And from a five year old boy. I like your cool car. It's official, she's cool.

Many people ask us where we're journeying to. We're not sure. Perhaps our answer should be, no destination, is the destination.

Ardtoe, Ardnamurchan

Early this morning all was quiet. No wind. No rain. No bleating sheep. No high pitched, sharp, incisive calls from the normally noisy oyster catchers. They must have sensed the presence of the white tailed eagle which circled and then settled itself on a rock a little offshore.

Then a cacophony of noise from all, sounding the alert. John was cooking his omelette at the time. Caught up in the moment he quickly secreted his hens eggs away. Behave, it's the poor sheep who need to worry, their lambs are on the menu. 

Earlier Angela had taken a walk out through hundreds of iris on the point of flowering, the vast carpet of yellow that would appear would rival a field of French sunflowers or a English meadow of buttery yellow buttercups. 

But today was the day to leave the beautiful scenery and amazing wildlife of Mull behind. Once again we drove into Tobermory, managing to secure a space on the ten vehicle one o' clock ferry to Kilchoan on Ardnamurchan. Problems with the loading ramp meant we'd have to reverse off, turning part way up the slipway. 'I will guide you, don't worry', said the crew member. Well that'll be O.K. then. And it was. Still a little unnerving though.

Ardnamurchan feels like the forgotten area of Scotland. Out on a limb, it tends to be passed by as visitors head straight for the Great Glen and Fort William. An area we'd rather avoid. But this little Scottish jewel is not for the faint hearted. The roads are particularly narrow with lots of twist and turns and blind summits and sheer drops. Not an area for the 'panic vans, as Angela likes to call the hire campervans. But the area never fails to delight us and we were very glad to be back here.

The little bay we are staying across the road from at Ardtoe is literally at the end of the road. There are three other vans here and a German couple who this evening have set off with their camping gear and inflatable kayak to camp overnight on one of the nearby beaches inaccessible by vehicle. A micro adventure. Why not? As the saying goes. ' You only regret what you don't do in life'.

Loch Na Keal, Isle of Mull

Staying overnight in Tobermory had been the right decision. Despite being sheltered by the buildings we could still hear the roar of the strong wind as it blew down the sound of Mull. This morning, cold and damp the coloured houses alongside the harbour made for brightness amongst the gloom. We couldn't believe a few days ago when we were here we'd dried our towels and T-shirts laid on the Land Rover bonnet in the afternoon sun. Today however, two coats, scarves and hats were required. Unless of course you're a Scottish postman, where shorts and polo shorts were the dress code of the day. Whilst we breakfasted, once again inside, a cruise ship appeared in the harbour.

Within half an hour it left, it's passengers probably wishing they'd taken a Caribbean cruise instead. Eventually the rain abated and despite the gloomy conditions we walked out along the harbour side stopping at the Mull Museum. Free entry so of course we stepped inside. The tiny museum turned out to be very interesting. Who'd have thought extra policemen were recruited on the island during the war to check pigeons for messages. Whilst we've been on Mull we have seen one police vehicle and no ambulances, even when Angela attended Craignure hospital. All the time we've been on the island we've felt very safe. What a difference from our home town of Poole. 

Much of the morning had been taken up with John trying to register his drone. But we managed another walk before leaving up to the viewpoint where a robin befriended us, following us all the way back to the car park. So sweet. 

We have now been away from home for two weeks. Our total spend on overnight stops and showers has been £80.00. We're happy with that. And you won't be surprised to hear we've decided to stay on the island another night. The forecast tomorrow is for a better day. Fingers crossed. So we'll definitely head over to the mainland. Probably.