Cool Camping and Cycling

I am going to start this blog with the book review. A couple of weeks ago I read The Living Mountain by Nan Shepherd, a wilderness and travel book about the Cairngorm Mountain range.

The beauty of this book, apart from the wonderful language used by Shepherd, is the fact that the book was written in 1944, not published until 1977 and yet it is still relevant today. As a keen walker Shepherd tramped these hills and absorbed their essence. I have been in the Cairngorms many times but after reading The Living Mountain I yearned to go back, I felt I had not given them the attention they deserved. So with this in mind we set off up the A9 one Friday night heading for Rothiemurchus.



 One of the optional extra we had fitted to Bessie was a bike rack and up until now it had never been tested. The Cairngorms are perfect for biking so what’s stopping us.

 Rothiemurchus campsite is just two miles outside Aviemore. I phone ahead and booked a pitch and was glad I did because we got the last one and they were turning vans away at the gate. The site is set in the old Caledonian pine forest with pitches located in nooks and crannies giving the impression of exclusivity to the woods. The park felt secure with kids cycling their bikes round the one way system and a burn gurgling over a small rise just by our pitch. The toilets and showers, accessed by key fob, were in pristine condition. In the morning as we ate breakfast al fresco, the site owner offered us another, better pitch; he had an early leaver, but we were settled and decided to stay put. We set off mid-morning, cycling the track from the campsite. Not far from the site the track splits. The left fork leads to Lairig Ghru and the right through Glen Einich to Loch Einich. We chose the path to the right.

my abandoned bike

 Colin had downloaded a geocaching app to his phone to try and we had fun finding a cache before we even got beyond shouting distance from the camp site (more about geocaching in later posts).

The track through the forest was well made. I felt exhilarated as I always do when amongst the ancient Scots pine, and a little sad at the thought that once this land was covered in this forest and now there are only a few patches scattered over the Highlands. As we left the trees behind the track grew rougher and my sightseeing was over as I wobbled, skitted and watched for every bump, stone, rubble and root to avoid. I’m a rubbish cyclist and helmetless so we ditched the bikes and walked at a relaxed pace. My wimp-out decision was vindicated when round the next bend we witnessed a young girl fly off her bike onto the rubble, she was OK but her bloody knees and arms needed attending to.

One of the river crossings

 The track led into a basin where bulking hill rose out of the loch at the base. At a river crossing we met three cyclists with skis strapped to their backs. They pointed to the west face of Braeriach, to three small tongues of snow on an otherwise bare hillside. ‘Tom, Dick and Harry,’ one skier explained. ‘Great spring snow, you’ll see our track on Harry and the jump I made.’ He was so happy he didn’t seem to mind his bike skidding and adding a paddle to his day’s activities.


At the loch side as we ate our picnic of dragon’s eggs and homemade Flapjack I tried to imagine Nan enjoying the same scene, the same tranquillity all those years ago. There was no pollution here, no wind turbines and no ski tows. Earlier we detected a geocache somewhere in the area, but had no telephone reception to find it! Yellow algae swilled at the shore side, flowers sprouted through the pebbles. My latest addition to the van was a Collins Flower Book, I took photos and later identified the species back at the van as, Dog violet, Lady’s Mantel and Colt’s Foot.  It was hard to believe that just over the mountain was the ski centre.

The walk back revealed the full expanse of the Rothiemurchus forest and I was happy to know I would be safe under its canopy for another night.


The soundtrack for this trip was the movie soundtrack for O Brother Where Art Thou. I could lie and say I chose this because it is the story of three men's bid for freedom and the Cairngorms is the place where I feel free. But the truth is I pick the CD up for £3 from the supermarket when I stocked up for the trip. And what a find it is. As well as the famous theme I Am a Man of Constant Sorrow, there are old folk classic like Big Rock Candy Mountain and You Are My Sunshine with crystal clear performances from among others Gillian Welch, Alison Krauss, Emmylou and The Fairfield Four.
It might not have much to do with Rothiemurchus but its foot tapping rollocks will always remind me of this trip.

Loch Einich

Applecross – More than an Inn

There are a few places in this world I think of as home and Applecross is at the top of the list.  So it was a thrill to take Bessie over the famous Bealach na Bà, the imposing mountain pass and winding single track road that separates Applecross from the rest of the world.  To meet a vehicle on the road is bad enough in a car but when driving a large van the prospect is daunting.  No matter how many times I go there my heart always lifts at the first sight of Applecross Bay.

The famous Bealach na Bà

 We owned a house on the peninsula, in the small hamlet of Toscaig, between 2003 and 2006 and although it was hard work to maintain, these were some of my happiest and most inspirational years.   So it was no surprise we headed to Toscaig as soon as we arrived.  

As we drove to the pier, I spotted all the new developments and was pleased to note nothing spoiled.  We were delighted to see our old house looking well cared for.  We never seemed to find the time to give the old croft house the care it required.    At the pier changes were few and for the better.  New barriers had replaced the rotting timbers.  The oystercatchers were still presiding over the shoreline; seals nosied around the pier; it was raining – no, not much changes.

I heard a cuckoo, but Colin couldn’t.  The cuckoo is the overriding audio from our time there, could I be imagining it for old time sake?

The road north with Raasay in the background

As we sat down to our dinner of scallops and Stornoway Black Pudding we spotted our past neighbour, Robert, skilfully bring his yacht to anchor in Toscaig Loch.  He had sailed over and back to Broadford, Skye, for his weekly shop, as you do.   We caught up on all the Tosciag gossip while he admired Bessie and pondered swapping the boat for a van.

Next day we drove up to Applecross village.  Wild camping is discouraged on the main bay but we found a good spot on the north side and within easy walking distance to the pub.

The Applecross Inn has always been a popular spot but the good food reviews it has received in recent years along with featuring in the MontyHalls TV show have turned this pub into a mega tourist attraction.   Despite the fame we always receive a great welcome from the owner Judith and when things settle down for a few minutes she joined us to fill us in on the rest of the gossip.  

I was honoured that she, and some of the locals, had read and enjoyed my novel The Incomers.  It’s a bit of a paradox but I felt I belonged.

Our new camping stop was idyllic, with fine views over to Skye and Raasay.

The next day we woke to the sound of many cuckoos - so I hadn't imagined after all.  The weather had cleared and we managed a walk we never did when we stayed here; the ridge above Strath Maol Chalum. It was a steep ascent (and descent) but a fabulous ridge walk along to the high point trig at 626 metres. Amazing views to Skye and Raasay to the west and the Torridon range to the east.

The voice of Sorlie Maclean reciting Hallaig rang in my head as I looked on Raasay’s flat topped Dun Caan, giving me the soundtrack for this trip.  Deer watched us from the hillside as we headed back to the van.  The sun slashed through the darkening clouds giving the Minch dabs of that special light peculiar to this coastline.  At that moment there was no finer place to be.

As a thank you to the bay I did a #2minutebeach clean before we left.  There was surprisingly little rubbish but I left it cleaner than I found it.

On our drive out of Applecross we visited an old friend we heard had been ill. I am pleased to say we found him well on the way to recovery.   It was with joy not sadness that we waved him goodbye in the knowledge that Applecross will always be there for us.

The locally appropriate literature I have chosen for this trip is Calum’s Road, Roger Hutchinson’s inspiring account of the back breaking work of Calum Macleod who, despite being in his fifties and armed with only a pick and wheel barrow, built a stretch of road over the course of ten years to give the inhabitants of a remote hamlet on Raasay access to the rest of the world.  As well as being well written it has a wonderful sense of place and gives the reader an insight into what life is like in remote communities.

Bands of Gold – Fèis Rois 2014

Fèis in Scottish Gaelic means “festival” or “feast.”  Over the years the word Fèis has become synonymous with the Fèisean movement (Fèisean is the plural of Fèis)  A movement set up in the 1980s to encourage, mostly young people, to celebrate and learn the music and song culture connected with the Gaelic language.  There are now hundreds of Fèisean in the calendar with Fèis Rois (Rois is the Gaelic word for Ross-shire) being held for adults in Ullapool in the first weekend in May.

Loch Broom from the campsite

We attended Fèis Rois in 2011 and 2012 when our accommodation was a rented chalet in the hamlet of Ardmair three miles north of Ullapool.  Then we envied the campers who were in the heart of the town, they could stay out late at pub sessions and could toddle along to the classes at the last minute.  This year was different.  Bessie had us trundling into the fast filling campsite on Friday evening and by the time you could say ‘hook-up’ we were hooked up and off to the chippy for a much anticipated fish supper.

Registration took place in Ullapool High School next morning and it is there we picked up our bands of gold. These wrist bands entitle the wearer to get into all the many fringe events taking place throughout the town, like any festival the wristbands are on for the duration.

Unlike the other years both Colin and I chose the same classes. Morning was Intermediate Guitar with the very young and hugely talented Matheu Watson and in the afternoon we were beginning Step Dancing with John Sikorski.

Bands of Gold

I was a bit apprehensive about both classes. My guitar is always a bit hit or miss, but Matheu is an excellent teacher and introduced everyone in the class to drop D tuning. He has a knack of making music theory simple. And his famous people stories kept us entertained while we gave our hands a rest from the contortions of new chord shapes.

The step dancing class was mixed ability but most were beginners.  John took us through the Strathspey and Reel steps and consolidated our learning as we went.  By the end of day one we’d learned (not mastered) a dozen new chord shapes and as many dance steps. By four o'clock my brain was puree.

But there was no time for relaxing. It was back to the van, shower, change, food and off to the school for the Homecoming Concert.  Cathy-Ann Macphee, Louise Mackenzie and Patsy Seddon had all been involved in the first Fèis Rois in 1986.  Their performance was a selection of Gaelic song, clarsach and fiddle tunes with some good old craic thrown in for a laugh.  This was followed by Rant, a quartet of fine female fiddlers, Jenna and Bethany Reid, Lauren Maccoll and Sarah-Jane Summers.  Even after all the dancing toes were still tapping jig time.

Aaron Jones, Jenna and Bethany Reid in session at The Argyll Hotel

And that wasn't the end of the night.  Nearly every pub in Ullapool had a music session happening. We dashed for a seat in The Argyll Hotel where things were already in full swing with some local musicians and Aaron Jones. We were soon joined by Jenna and Bethany who fairly pumped up the pace. Keep up or listen is the moto at these sessions, I mostly listened and it was a treat.

Despite the late night we had to do it all again next day. The Sunday evening is dedicated to the tutors concert, a great opportunity to see everything that is on offer. The hall was packed for this highlight, but the gold band secures entry.   On the way back to the campsite we popped into The Arch to watch the Simon Bradley Trio play an unusual mix of fiddle, viola and with Matheu on guitar.  Excellent. We left them to it about midnight.

Mondays are shorter teaching days but Matheu still managed to cram in some theory and taught us how to play The Beatles Blackbird. (I can’t say I learned it though but I have the gist.)

If it sounds exhausting it’s because it is.

By the time we got to the step dancing I was Feis’d out.  After such a packed weekend there was only one thing left to do.  Go to the Ceilidh Place for a well-deserved beer and wonder if tomorrow any of the chords or steps will be remembered. 

A huge thanks to all the organisers who make things run smoothly and keep everyone supplied with tea, coffee, cakes and music. They deserve more than a beer.

Sleeping in the heart of a volcano

A volcano?  It sounds bizarre but that is exactly what we did.  The fact the volcano erupted fifty five millions years ago doesn't detract from the glamour.

This all took place last weekend when we drove Bessie to Ardnamurchan in the West Highlands of Scotland. Although Ardnamurchan is a peninsula, the five minute Corran Ferry crossing saves an hour drive and gives the trip a real 'getting away from it all' feel. We have made this crossing many times but this was the first with a van and we only just squeezed in behind a huge lumber truck.   The peninsula is ribboned with mostly single track roads but we reckoned if the truck can do it so can we.

Corran Ferry - Bessie's first ferry crossing

Our first night was spent at Far View Campsite in Kilchoan, a motor-home specific site that had all we needed for a stopover. The owners keep an impressive garden and sell honey and herbs. It is situated in walking distance from the pier where a regular Mull ferry and trips to Staffa leave daily, so it would be an ideal base to leave the van and take a day trip to the islands.

The Ardnamurchan Lighthouse is reported to be the most westerly point on the British mainland, but Corrachadh Mòr, a wee tip of land a kilometre south of the lighthouse, should hold this title. Never the less a visit to this Stevenson lighthouse is a must.  The climb up the stairs of the thirty six metre tower is not too hard and rewarded with amazing views to the islands on gfood days.

From there we drove through the Ring of Ardnamurchan (the volcano crater!) to the small crofting community of Sanna.  There large sandy beach is littered with lava rocks and an abundance of cockles. The now rare sound of a skylark heralded our walk. Along with other walkers on the beach I craned my neck to spot and there it was, a speck, way up in the sky, warning us off with its distinctive chirup.

Sanna is an idyllic spot on this remote west coast, but life has been a struggle for the crofters there.  The excellent lyrical memoir Night Falls on Ardnamurchan by poet, Alistair Maclean laments the decline of Sanna's crofting community and is worth reading if planning a trip to the area. Because if the precious nature of the crofting land here we were forbidden to park the van overnight, so we headed back into the crater.

Wild Salmon and squeaky cheese kebabs

 We found a perfect flat piece of land just off the small road, put a couple of blocks under two wheels and set about preparing our first Bessie barbie.   Upon leaving Kilchoan I popped into the well-stocked village store and bought a couple of pieces of wild salmon to go with squeaky cheese and veggie kebabs. Colin had our spanking new Blue Mountain folding BBQ smoking in no time and then stumbled on a wee pile of wood, just perfect for a camp fire.  

Smoking in the crater

As the sun set behind the western ridge of the ring and a golden hue burnished the van, it felt as if we really were inside a volcano.  

The night was empty of animal and bird sounds.  Only the disturbance of a car passing on the road about four am broke the impression of total isolation.

The next day broke warm and sunny.  We donned our running shoes and ran a trail over a hill track, past a ruined hamlet of Glendrian until we reached the trail end in a remote pebble cove northeast of Sanna.  The first and last parts of the trail were good drove roads but a bog trot in the middle soaked our feet. I guess this route was once used by the crofter of Glendrian to take cattle and sheep to boats, but sadly this pastime has long ago fallen into history.

Maybe the dry sunny weather contributed to the enjoyment of this trip, but I suspect in all weathers Ardnamurchan will remain a special place.

The sound track for our trip was unintentionally in keeping with the remote, mountain and island theme.  The recently acquired Fred Morrison CD Outlands is a blend of whistle, Highland, Uilleann and Reel pipes accompanied by banjo, mandolin and bodhran to create a rollicking blend of Scots Trad with an Appalachian feel.  Yea hah.  

 Eigg and  Muck with Rhum in the background

In the Beginning

In March 2014 we took possession of a WildAx Aurora Leisure Campervan.  And that is about as technical as this blog is going to get.  I could go into lots of specifications and geeky stuff but I wont.

I will just say that the process we used to chose our van was this:

We looked at as many vans as we could, we asked van owners for recommendations but in the end we chose this van for a couple of reasons. It has an integrated gas tank we can refill with autogas from service stations and the water tanks have heaters to stop freezing in winter; this is a must if we want to go touring in Scottish winterland

So what is this blog about?   It is about having fun.

As a writer I have a main blog that I use mostly for writerly things, book reviews, and news. This is the business end of blogging.

When we first drove the van from the retailer, up through England, stopping off in The Lake District and the Borders, I experienced the excitement of a whole new life of opportunities opening up for us. Just sitting up high in the cab gives a different perspective to the world and that different perspective carries on into the whole philosophy of living.  When I came home I planned my vegetable patch to suit the two ring, plus oven way of cooking. There will be new photo opportunities, new ways to park, places to visit, soundtracks and a complete subculture to explore.

I know there are other campervan travel blogs out there but as the title of this travel blog suggests, it's 'Not About Bessie'.