Red Squirrel Campsite, Ballachulish

Today the weather has been outstanding. Blue skies, scuttling clouds, amazing vistas. The downside too many visitors.

We decided to head back to Glencoe, and so it seems did the world and his wife. 

First stop the Glencoe Mountain Resort for showers. One pound for never ending hot water gave us enough time to wash ourselves, T-shirts, smalls and towels. Once again the wind blew, funnelling through the mountains but we didn't mind. It was warm and sunny. We stayed awhile taking in the spectacular views whilst drinking coffee at the cafe. Nature's tumble dryer worked it's magic and our washing soon dried.

Then a drive back to the long, winding road that led to Glen Etive. Ian Fleming, creator of James Bond had a home here. And when the film Skyfall was filmed, part of it was here along the road, thus turning the quiet unspoilt area of Glen Etive into a 'must visit' location. 

The drive down to the loch was beautiful. Mountains, dry river beds, waterfalls, bog cotton and lots of rhododendrons. This invasive species with their vibrant purple flowers were fast covering the whole area. Pretty as they look, the rate they multiply is worrying.

We'd bought food for a barbecue this evening, but upon our arrival at the park up by Loch Etive it soon became apparent it was too windy to stay. So we back tracked to Ballachulish to The Red Squirrel Campsite where we stayed three weeks ago.

It's suits us perfectly here camping amongst the trees, cooking on an open fire with like minded people. The access to the site is a little tight so luckily the large motorhomes can't gain access, which we consider to be a bit of a result.

Tomorrow we will check the weather and decide our onward journey. Moral had been boosted by today's sunshine and the return to this campsite. The forecast for tomorrow is once again rain, but we think we may now travel east in search of yet more fine weather. We don't really want to leave Scotland just yet.

RSPB Nature Reserve, Glenborrodale

The beautiful summers evening we'd spent on the beach at Morar seemed like a dream today. The rain relentless, the cloud low, us miserable aware that down south the weather was beautiful. The forecast for Scotland this next week is terrible, apart from one day of sunshine. Therefore we felt it might be time to give up on Scotland and head back towards the Lake District.

Around two o' clock the rain eased and fully waterproofed we walked up into the nature reserve, carefully watching our footing so not to step on any of the snails and fat black slugs that were in heaven in the damp conditions.

The nature reserve is in an area that makes up part of Scotland's rain forest. Would they have a cafe in the rain forest? Apparently not! We know you don't come to Scotland for the weather but the stunning scenery, but today you could barely see the view. Back at Marge we resigned ourselves to spending the next seventeen hours inside. Oh joy!

Morar Beach Car Park, near Mallaig

This morning we were tired. And tense. Would our early start pay off. Fingers crossed. At a quarter to six we drove out, the white horses in the adjacent field puzzled at our departure. The wind was light as it blew threw the bog cotton. And it felt a little warmer. But we were off to find the sun. North Uist had made us miserable, that needed remedying. 

Yes we caught the early ferry. Us and three others standbys hoping to escape. John drove Marge on whilst Angela boarded as a foot passenger after a dash to the ticket office. The run up the gangplank testing her fitness, but the thought of being left behind on the island fuelled her. She was the last person to board and now the ship could leave.

Whilst waiting in the vehicle queue we met a lady from Australia. She'd been due to leave later today, but like us had seen enough. We sat together during the crossing whilst breakfasting and enjoying each other's conversations. Before we knew it the Calmac ferry Hebrides was veering to one side as it turned into it's berth at Uig harbour.

We'd returned to Skye and the sun was out. It was warm. We were happy again, but very tired. Stopping to buy yet more food, conscious of the ever increasing food bill we'd be paying when our next credit card bill came in, we decided to head down to Armadale and try to board a ferry back to Mallaig. The ferry booking system showed there were no spaces, but we knew there might be if we arrived in good time.

Our drive through the mountains and vistas of Skye filled us with joy. We'd missed these views, and we welcomed the warmth of the sun on our normally shivering bodies. Coffee and cake to comfort us we waited to see if we'd be able to board the last ferry of the day. Whilst waiting we talked to an Irish coach driver about Ireland's wild Atlantic way. A drive that's on our bucket list to do. After a teasing by the ferry staff as to whether we'd be boarding or not, we were manoeuvred on at the rear of the ferry, along with four other vehicles. Result!

So now we are back at the beautiful beach near Mallaig we stayed at last weekend. It's not quite as busy, but we still had to wait for a space. Which was fine. Once parked up a lovely picnic on the beach for our evening meal.

Tomorrow we will start heading back towards the Isle of Mull. Our happy place.

Lochmaddy, North Uist

Early yesterday evening a mist rolled in off the sea stopping at the shore line on Sollas Beach. The wind dropped and a watery sun lit the sand. It felt cold. No colder. The Oyster Catchers and Artic Terns were a chaotic scene of flapping wings and screeching calls as a larger predator dipped and dived. Despite the chaos, the cows and their calves penned in by wire fencing adorned with air drying seaweed, sat and chilled. 

Darkness falls late here, around eleven-thirty. Before that time a satsuma of a sun hung in a sky of fire. The sunsets here, when they happen are amazing.

The next morning we drove to nearby Lochmaddy to use the showers at the marina. Another eight pound spent, but this time it included two hot drinks. Above the rocks looking out across the harbour sat two stags. Their antlers a giveaway as they nestled in the long grass. Overhead an eagle flew back and forth. A beautiful sight. The gate to the facilities was open, and we weren't sure if we could use them or not. So we did. Whilst John was showering someone locked the outer gate. Oh dear! Fortunately a fisherman nearby told John the code to exit. Thank goodness. 

On then to an off-road park up just above yet another stunning beach. 

But upon our return from our walk we were shocked to see an ugly large white plastic box in front of us, blocking the view. What's wrong with people? A huge grassed area and they park almost touching us. Upset we left. We were fed up with the weather, and this was the final straw. We decided to leave the outer Hebrides and return to Skye. 

Tonight's night's park up is brilliant though. Another ten pound donation required, and there was just us and one other van. We walked out scanning the seaweed covered rocks for otters. Despite signs they'd been feeding they are illusive.

 Precariously crossing a wooden suspension bridge we stepped inside 'the Hut of Shadows'. A camera obscura. We couldn't stay out long though as we needed an early night. To have any hope of obtaining a standby ticket in the morning we had to be a the ferry terminal by six-thirty, so up at five.

Sollas, North Uist

Just before midnight last night Angela decided to sleep in the lower area of Muddy Marge. The wind was just slight of 20 mph, but we were positioned above the beach and Angela felt a little unnerved. 

This morning the incoming tide brought the sun with it, lighting the sea, showcasing it colours of green and blue. Beautiful. But the wind was cold. It didn't matter though. It wasn't raining!  Suddenly our compact living conditions didn't seem so tight. Tomorrow it'll be three weeks since we left home. In those three weeks we've worked out what works and what doesn't work with regard to our living arrangements, and think we have now cracked it. The three of us, Angela, John and 'the boxio' all comfortable in each others company. John likens are tiny space as 'like living in a bathroom!'.

Still in drifting mode we drove just six miles along the coast to Sollas, a small crofting township, where we stayed whilst visiting the island last year. We parked Muddy Marge up in the same space we parked Marge the VW last year, wrapped ourselves up against the wind and set off on a walk across the machair, climbing down the dunes, the sand shifting beneath our feet. Once again, we were greeted by another endless perfect beach. The surf was up. The rolling waves of the ocean followed by a gusting wind which sculptured the sand dunes as it passed through.

Walking back in the strong wind did not excite us, so instead we walked up and over the dunes finding the farm track that led back to Marge. Along the way we passed a graveyard of damaged and abandoned vehicles slowly rotting in the salty coastal air and extreme winter weather. The walk had taken us three hours. The longest since we'd arrived in Scotland as Angela couldn't exert herself too much when she was unwell. Tired we were glad to hunker down inside out of the wind and enjoy our late lunch before taking advantage of a strong WiFi signal to catch up on some programmes we'd missed. 

The wind is due to ease a little during the night

 But we'll be alright here almost on a level with the sea. The parking area is slightly raised and surrounded by a defence of large rocks. At the moment the tide has retreated as far as the eye can see. But once it begins to track it's way back towards us we know it will be at a rate of knots, and in no time the tidal marshes visible at the moment will slowly disappear in some areas. At six o'clock clock we are the only overnighters on this official camping spot. Once again the donation is ten pounds. We are sure when the ferry arrives from the Isle of Skye this evening we will probably be joined by other vans. For now it's just us and the oyster catchers, and that suits us just fine.