Day 27 (16th July 2022)

 Today is my last full day in Scotland so it is no surprise that it started (and looks like ending) with rain. If it weren't for the Today programme, I'd think you were all telling massive fibs about the English heat-wave just to spite me.

Up proper early as I had a lot of miles to cover with a broken down sat-nav. This would come back to haunt me later, but not in a particularly bad way to be honest. All I did was resort to my old fashioned way of navigating from A to B

Of course, in reality this rarely works because you get into town and the road signs don't show the simplificated information my route plan demanded. As a result, I ended up taking the coastal route (baring in mind this is largely a coastal road-trip so no bad thing). Trouble was, this added well over an hour to my planned route. But before I reveal my first stop, I did pass this old ruin on my way there...

It was Castle Kilchurn on the awesomely named Loch Awe. I got soaking wet boots taking this pic, but what the hell, Scotland is the wettest place on Earth, and no statistics will convince me otherwise. Ever.

So despite leaving Oban(ish) at just before 8am, it was just before midday before I arrived at stop #47

TROON

I knew, and to be honest still know, nothing about Troon. It seems to be full of new build but not totally unpleasant housing, and like almost all sizeable towns on the west coast of Scotland, is a port. It also has 1 hour free parking right in the centre of the town, so I took advantage of this, banged out my pic and had a bucket load of mussels for lunch before heading further south.

For quite a while, the coastal view was dominated by this huge rock in the middle of the sea.

It turns out to be Ailsa Craig, an island I have never heard of but which really does dominate the horizon for miles. My A2Z tells me it is an RSPB site. Fingers crossed they are flu-free.

Anyway, eventually I arrived at stop #48

STRANRAER 

Another west coast Scottish Town I know absolutely nothing about. They obviously have a fairly decent football team because the stadium gets signposts before the town itself. It also has a ferry terminal and if you want to know any more about it, Google is your friend. I left no sooner than I'd arrived as thanks to me being ... well, completist, I had another place to visit that once again was in the middle of nowhere. Stop #49

SUMMERISLE  (ISLE OF WHITHORN)

"Haven't you already done Summerisle?" I hear you ask. Well, yes and no. I did "Summer Isles" on day #19 but as "The Wicker Man" wasn't actually filmed there, I had to look up where some of it really was filmed, and apparently there is a scene in the film where the castle in the background of the above pic features. Having not seen the film, I am relying on t'internet to tell me the truth (unlike our current government, phnar phnar).

It is Whithorn Castle, now a private residence - the site I looked at online was old and they managed to get right up close as it was unoccupied. The village does have a wickerman, but I really can't vouch for its authenticity!

It took me forever to find my last Scottish campsite - a signpost would have been kinda helpful, but the people I approached were very kind and something told me I wasn't the first campervan to drive up to their farm and ask for directions.

I'm celebrating my last night in Scotland in style. Luckily I haven't over-indulged prior to finishing this. That's how much I respect my followers 🥰

It is still raining though.

Allons-y 

Douglas Germinal CCXXIV Brain over and out 

Day 26 (15th July 2022)

 I'm becoming a weather bore. Woke to rain again, but today was always going to be a quiet one as for the next few days I've got a fair amount of miles to cover. Did laundry, then headed into Oban again for another lunch consisting of locally sourced oysters.

The Seafood Shack was well crowded this time, but I hung around until a space materialised on one of the tables. My oysters drew the attention of the family next to me. There were three generations and we quickly got chatting. I told my two oyster related stories - the first that I'd vowed never to eat one until I saw a programme about French city primary school children who were taken to the seaside for the first time and all tried an oyster and all of them ate one and liked them. My second is that I can't really feel guilty about eating an organism that has neither brain nor central nervous system alive, and that they are one of the most sustainable, least polluting food sources available.

The two girls in the family (I'm guessing 8 and 10) were persuaded to try one, and to their credit, both did. "My work here is done!" I proclaimed and we all had a good laugh. I couldn't help but think I'd met the mum and dad before, possibly at a festival. They had seen Sea Power in 2010 and loved my road trip idea.

I also met a woman in her 70's while I was back at the carpark. She approached me about the Alphard - she used to have a Japanese import hi-top affair many years ago. Her late husband had also undertaken a quest on his retirement and achieved it before he past away 3 years ago. His was to attend a match at all 92 league football grounds which sounded like far more travelling and organisation than my current odyssey. They moved up from SW London to Oban 20 years ago and her only regret was that they hadn't done it sooner. She was lovely, and I was kicking myself afterwards for not asking her name.

Other than wandering around McCaigs Tower and people watching, my lazy day has been just that, lazy. Just what the doctor ordered.

Allons-y 

Douglas Germinal CCXXIV Brain over and out 

Day 25 (14th July 2022)

 Yes you've guessed it! It rained again! I just read Julia's post on Facebook that had a weatherman and a totally red Europe. Well, it's a lie, wherever I am, it is cloudy and intermittently raining 🌧 

I left early and headed south from Fort William directly into stop #45

OBAN

Obviously recognisable because of the McCaigs Tower (that amphitheatre thing at the top of the hill), but Oban also lays claim to be the seafood capital of Scotland. Just one stop at an unassuming wooden shack next to the ferry booking office confirmed this for me. With prices less than a third of what a fishmonger will charge you in London, I scoffed down a dozen of the plumpest, tastiest oysters I have ever eaten.

Wild horses won't stop me going back there tomorrow.

As excited as I was about cheap fat tasty oysters, Oban was also my stepping off point for the next place on the Germinal CCXXIV mug/T places, and I really was very excited about this one. For a start, I hadn't realised that the trip I'd booked involved actually landing rather than a sail past kind of affair. But nope, it was the whole kaboodle. A ferry to Mull, then a 40 minute minibus ride to another port, to get a boat that took over 90 minutes to finnally get to stop #46.

STAFFA

So here I am, alone in Fingals Cave on the Island of Staffa. To be totally honest, during this blog, I have rarely censored the pics I'm using, and pretty much all of them have been the first attempt. I mean, look at that very first pic. It's terrible. But trying to take a pic inside a cave when it is really windy, and the waves have already soaked your boots, and there were at least 60 other people trying to take their photo in said cave ...

Anyway, I waited till almost everyone had gone in (we were deposited onto the island with strict instructions to be back on the quayside in an hour, and not to go anywhere near any birds) and my first 10 attempts were frankly rubbish. The background would go totally black and all I was left with was me grinning like a fool.

Staffa is fabulous, although, and I kind of hate to say this, but Guy and I have been to Vik in Iceland and they also do volcanic hexagonal pillars and they really do pawn both Staffa and the Giants Causeway. But that aside, Staffa is well worth a day out of your life to discover.

As you can probably tell, Staffa is one of my highlights. It is a magical place that looks so otherworldly, with the added bonus of being surrounded by Puffins. Unfortunately my phone went into a sudden and rapid battery drain which meant I couldn't photograph any Puffins. On this trip, they were closer than ever before, so close you could see the little fish in their beaks just like on all the postcards and calendars and whatnot.

So no more pics until I got to my campsite, in the rain of course.  Luckily for me, it stopped just as I hooked up, so a quick meal and glass of wine before having the most hilarious 4-way conversation between myself, Guy and our lovely friends Pam & Nick while I wandered up and down the beach  getting more and more sozzled on red wine.

Allons-y 

Douglas Germinal CCXXIV Brain over and out 

Day 24 (13th July 2022)

 Once again, I was woken by rain drumming on the roof above my head. I swear Scotland will forever be associated with rain for the rest of my days. I tried hard not to get too despondent (and wet) and went about making tea trying to shelter the gas stove from the wind without singeing too many hairs on my arms.

Although my destination today was relatively close on the map, it involved another ferry ride and once I was over the other side, it was deserted. Totally deserted. The few vehicles I did see just drive straight through it on their way elsewhere, or were logging lorries. More about them in a bit. This particular part of Scotland is probably bigger than the Isle of Wight but has only one town to speak of, and that is stretching the very definition of a town to its limit. The entire area is stop #44

MORVERN 

As you can see, I've labelled this pic (1). The place I initially chose is right in the middle of Morvern. It is the site of Aoineadh Mòr, a small town that was forcibly cleared in 1824 so that the "landowner" could graze his sheep. This happened all over the Highlands in the early 19th Century but an account by one of the townspeople called Mary, and the fact that the exact whereabouts of the town were unknown until the 1990s made a visit here irresistible. Her account of the eviction is truly heartbreaking. You  can just about make out some of the remains of their houses. 

But, in keeping with the whole "coastal placenames" bit of Germinal CCXXIV, I thought I should at least look for a bit of waterside Morvern, so here is (2)

This is "The Morvern Cross", which  dates from the 1300s and overlooks the Sound of Mull (Mull being  the place all the cars in Morvern were driving to). I was unbelievably jammy with the timing of the pic showing the sunbeams from the centre of the cross. I grinned all the way back to the van.

I thought about getting another ferry over to Mull just to see what Tobermory is like, but realised that by the time I got there and back, I would be late for my rendezvous with our friend Tim who lives part of the time up in Fort William, so instead I took a drive along a different road through Morvern along the coast of Loch Sunart, across Glen Tarbert and the follow the coast of both Loch Linnhe and Loch Eil and then join the road to Fort William from the west. 

Aside from some of the most beautiful and dramatic scenery, which really are breathtaking in places, there were quite a few patches of land, especially in Morvern, where the clearance of Pine has left acres of hideously scarred land. I can only hope these people know what they are doing as I didn't see equal areas full of small growing pines to replace them. Some of the land left behind looks what I imagine areas of Frace and Belgium looked like during WWI.

I stopped off for a coffee at Neptune's Staircase as the sun had come out for more than 5 minutes. It is a series of 8 locks over a quarter of a mile on the Caledonian Canal that according to Wiki is the longest canal staircase in Britain. Also saw a very brave small bird sat on the head of a plastic bird of prey which made me chuckle.

Eventually got into Fort William just as the shops were starting to shut, but not before I finally admitted defeat and bought myself a pair of walking poles. It was only few years ago I scoffed at walkers earnestly plodding along with their elongated ski poles through Clissold Park but after another hard walk through woods and hills to find Aoineadh Mòr, I have decided I too need any help I can get and bugger what anyone else thinks!

Met up with Tim and had a wonderful pizza and wine supper and talked our way through an incredible amount of subjects, including our days at boarding school and my mispronounciation of almost every Scottish place I've been to so far! It was great to catch up.

Tomorrow should be very exciting so stay tuned.

Allons-y 

Douglas Germinal CCXXIV Brain over and out 

Day 23 (12th July 2022)

 Once again the day started with drizzle but at least I was able to brew up some tea before leaving. It took ages to get to sleep last night as the wind was rocking the Alphard - it had the uncanny effect of making me think someone was outside pushing it about.

I had a  little look around Portree before heading south towards higher ground.

At one point I stopped by what I thought was a Loch but was in fact the sea to make another cuppa. I was sheltering the gas flame from the wind when suddenly a voice made me jump

"Am I on the right road for the ferry port?"

A car had pulled up beside me.

"Which one?" I asked. The woman looked at me a bit confused. So I tried a different version "which island?" 

She still looked confused "this island"

I tried again "which island are you going to?"

"No, I meant the Ferry Port"

My turn to look confused. It was windy which was making it difficult to hear each other properly. "sorry, where?"

She says loudly "THE FAIRY POOL!"

😳 oops

Funnily enough, I pulled up next to her a few hours later at a petrol station (the first one since Hopeman selling super-unleaded - note to Guy!) and asked her if she'd had any luck. No, she was on the wrong side of the island apparently. 

I arrived a bit earlier than expected at Armadale so managed to get an earlier ferry to stop #42

MALLAIG

Mallaig was packed. Having not really witnesses crowds so far on this trip, and having spent a few days on large empty islands, this comes as something of a surprise until I remember that it is school holidays and I'm back on the mainland of Scotland once again. 

I did find somewhere doing late lunches and yet again was blessed with superb fresh seafood at very reasonable price. 

My campsite for the next  2 nights is a few miles south of Fort William, but I took a bit of a detour out across Moidart to another tiny wee hamlet called Smirisary as this gives me the best view for stop #43

SOUND OF EIGG

I did in fact get my Penelope Isles cap blown off on this one but panic not, it didn't go far. Also, anyone with a Germinal CCXXIV T or mug will tell you, Sound of Eigg isn't on there. It is one of the places written on the back of one of my copies of "Carrion", hence the stop.

You can't really see the Sound of Eigg in the distance on that pic but trust me, it is there.. this might help you locate it!

Eigg is where Johnny of The Pictish Trail lives and where Lost Map, his excellent record label is based. I recommend joining his postcard club.

So I zipped past Glenfinnan which was also really crowded and headed to Fort William only to experience multiple sat-nav failures. Well, it has started freezing after a few seconds. It might not like the mountains. Our friend Geraldine's boyfriend has a house & business up here, so I shall look him up tomorrow after my  next Germinal CCXXIV place, which once again is in the middle of nowhere!

My view for the  evening 

Allons-y 

Douglas Germinal CCXXIV Brain over and out 

Day 22 (11th July 2022)

 Spent  a  bit of time after breakfast catching up my "postcode history" - my friend Larissa has volunteered to plot out all my destinations (Germinal CCXXIV places & others) onto a map, the kind of stuff I love but am incapable of doing myself.

I then headed south out of Stornaway, stopping briefly at a monument for the "Land Raiders" until I arrived at pretty much the end of South Harris.

The roads on Harris are treacherous at best and positively terrifying in places. My final destination was St.Clements Church in the tiny village of Rodel. Dating from the 16th Century, it contains some extraordinary tombs of the Clan Chiefs of MacLeod. The church itself is empty and somewhat amazingly you can get most of the way up the tower.

The drive back to Tarbert was just as thrilling as I got all the terrifying views in reverse. Found a postcard of St.Clements so wrote all about it and sent it to my in-laws who would appreciate it more than a view of sheep on a hillside.

Took the late afternoon ferry to Uig on the Isle of Skye. I still have no idea how you are meant to pronounce Uig. Driving down Skye, in the distance mountains appear on the horizon and I was taken by genuine surprise. As I've never been in this part of the UK before, I've never really had any understanding of UK mountains in the same way I've seen mountains in France for example. Having spent years surrounded by the South Downs and as a child gone camping in the Brecon Beacons, I've always assumed that the whole of Britain is covered in green hills that are romanticly called mountains. I can't wait to make a closer acquaintance with them.

As you can tell, no Germinal CCXXIV places on this bit of the trip.

C'est la vie, there is always tomorrow. Given the amount of wind and rain the NW of the UK is getting compared to the rest of you, I genuinely hope it will be "a lovely day tomorrow". God, I love that song.

Allons-y 

Douglas Germinal CCXXIV Brain over and out 

Day 21 (10th July 2022)

Yesterday evening I took the immense ferry from Ullapool to Stornaway. Stornaway was one of the worst place cards to get playing "The Great Game of Britain" - a board game we had as children - because it was the easiest one for the other players to block and the furthest away from London, where you had to finish up.

As I arrived and had barely driven 100 yards, I nearly crashed into a boy racer in his sooped up scoobydoo trying to overtake another excessively pimped up car that sounded like it had had it's catalytic converter stolen recently. And then it started raining.

My campsite was miles away. I had realised recently that my AtoZs mislead you when it comes to the Scottish Isles. Whereas the mainland scale tends to be 4 miles to 1 inch, when it comes to the islands, they switch to 10 miles to the inch, so consequently journeys take a lot longer than I was expecting. I got to the campsite really late and didn't know where my pitch was. I had a walk around in the wind and rain but was none the wiser. This place has 50 pitches, many of which had the air of permanence about them, and as I trudged around I started to feel homesick, as well as cold and wet. In the end, I parked up near to the communal washblock, set up for bed and made a fool of myself telling some screaming children to shush - it was 23.50 so I didn't think I was being that mean.

Left early, surprise surprise and headed out before I had even had breakfast. The wind was blowing directly into the back of the Alphard, so after a few attempts at lighting the gas, I gave up and hit the road.

It took me a while to get to where I wanted to be, as there was a fabulous stone circle to check out...

The Callanish Stone Circle (this is one of three) are stunning and well worth spending time amongst. I felt positively encouraged to carry on, but this is just because after cathedrals and ruined abbeys, stone circles are my next favourite things.

Back on the road, heading north, I finally arrived at stop #40

BUTT OF LEWIS

What a stunning place. Despite being denied entry to the lighthouse, which is understandable as it is still very much a working establishment, the surrounding headland is astonishing. From almost every angle, the views are spectacular. There was even a seal having a snooze in one of the little bays between the huge cliffs - I have this on absolute authority from a local woman who was frankly ecstatic at what she was watching through her binoculars. 

Somewhat predictably, I was more interested in the plane race overhead!

In all the excitement, I almost failed to register that the weather had improved to the extent that I was walking around in a T-shirt and not getting cold and wet.

I decided to take a short drive a bit further south so I could give a feeble attempt at getting closer to stop #41

ROCKALL

Honestly, Sea Power, talk about the impossible! Of course, Rockall, a rock claimed by the failing British Empire to nick fish from the Irish, is impossible for mere mortals like me to visit. I worked out the rough millage thanks to Google maps and this is as good as it gets.

I still had a few hours to kill before ... well, nothing really. Had I been braver and more confident, I would have looked up Abi and Hamilton and said hello, but I'm way too shy so that will be something I will regret at my leisure for years and years to come. I have to admire their decision to relocate up here, life cannot be anywhere near as easy as living in, say Brighton, for example. I take my (Penelope Isles) hat off to them and wish them all the very best in their Island life future. I love you lots!

I couldn't face going back to the campsite, so I booked into the cheapest room I could find in Stornaway, had a long hot shower and went downstairs and gorged on a kilo of local mussels.

A feast fit for a king. 

Allons-y 

Douglas Germinal CCXXIV Brain over and out