Highland Journey - Highland Fling (no I didn't get lucky!)

Having dropped ‘Nessi’ back to her owners we headed back north to Brechin for a few days at Gordon and Irene’s caravan. Fortunately for us, the Lonach Highland Games was on and a trip to Scotland would not be complete without a bit of caber tossing. Nowhere else is it possible for a bloke to wear a dress and long socks in public and not get laughed at. And the kilt is not complete without a Sporran (Gaelic for nut pouch). I reccon most Scotsmen keep money in their sporran because if robbed at least they enjoy the experience.

And then there is the appealing (or is it appalling) sounds of the bagpipe. It's often said that bagpipes are the missing link between music and noise. You either like them or you don't, there's no in-between.

Q. How can you tell if a bagpipe is out of tune?
A. Someone is blowing into it.

The history of pipes is steeped in mystery and legend which roughly translated means you can make it up as you go along. Alfred Hitchcock once said “I understand the inventor of the bagpipes was inspired when he saw a man carrying an indignant, asthmatic pig under his arm. Unfortunately, the man-made object never equalled the purity of sound achieved by the pig”.

The games themselves were a mix of highland flinging, Clansmen marching, ball throwing and the Gille Calum. Now I really feel we have been to Scotland. Well almost, as we did not get a chance to eat some haggis. They say it’s difficult to tell whether you should kick it or eat it. After you've eaten it, you wish you'd kicked it.

But our three weeks were coming to an end so it was time to pack the bag pipe in the boot at head to the Lakes District for our last stop before heading home.

Highlands Journey – In search of big Nessie

It seems you can’t travel more than a few miles without coming across a castle. Eilean Donan Castle is one such castle that graces many Scotland postcards with some saying it is Scotland's Most Romantic Castle. But I think the best was Castle Urquhart perched on the rocky cliffs of Loch Ness. A castle that saw more attacks than an oil rich country, only the ruins remain. We saw Scotland’s weather at its best as the mist slowly wound its way around the castle while the sun shone brightly creating an iridescent blue sky and water.

But the real reason we came here was to join the bus load of American and Japanese tourists peering out into the murky cold waters of Loch Ness in search for the smallest bubble from a monsters fart. A whole industry has been concocted around this famous Jurassic beast in the form of visitor centres, boat trips, fan clubs and countless low quality souvenirs. Luckily for us we decided to bypass it all and go to the real thing – the Loch.



I read that in 1999, an Australian woman, Tammy Van Wisse, swam the 24-mile length of Loch Ness in nine hours and six minutes. I heard she beat the previous record (held by Nessie) by twenty minutes.

With lots of ‘potential’ sightings (see photos above) from the kids we made camp by the lake just in case she is nocturnal. The next morning we woke to a thick mist overhanging the Loch dashing any further hopes for that illusive photo. So it was time for ‘Nessi’ to leave her friend and head to the mountains and another memorable camp at the base of the UK’s biggest mountain Ben Nevis.

Highlands Journey - An Ode to Ben

More people die on Ben Nevis every year than Mt Everest but today it was a glorious cloudless sky. However, the locals do say that "if you can't see Ben Nevis it's raining and if you can see Ben Nevis, it's about to rain". While BC (before kids) we may have climbed it, instead we settled for a splash in the sparkling waters of Glen Nevis at the foot of the mountain. But based on the following poem reputed to have been written in the visitors book of the Ben Nevis Hotel in the late 19th Century, we did not miss much:


Ben Nevis Roll by, thou dense and damp pea-soupy shroud!

Do we thus reach the highest point in vain?

Roll by! we say, and leave behind no cloud

Our view to mar; but, should'st thou still remain,

Mark well the threat - "Never shall we come again."

If at first you don't succeed, try again:

Mist and rain you should not heed, try again;

When the clouds have rolled away,

And the sun holds glorious sway,

Climb the path without delay, come again,

All your labours he'll repay - grand old Ben.

We climbed thy stony sides, oh Ben!

We groped around thy cloudy head,

We peered and jeered and swore - and then,

In sheer disgust, we went to bed.

We toiled along with saddened hearts - and grief,

And found - ah, well, just mist and tinned Australian beef.

With the road trip coming to a close we had one more night overlooking Loch Tummel before having to return ‘Nessi’ to her owners. The scenery of the highlands is beautiful from dramatic mountains to calm Lochs and what better way to explore these hidden (and not so hidden) gems than in the campervan. The Kids (and I think even Kathy) had a memorable time.

Highlands Journey – Skye

While we could have stayed at Arisaig for the rest of the week, there was still more to see so we bundled back into ‘Nessi’ and caught another ferry across to the Isle of Skye heading for a little place on the map called Elgol (because it looked remote and had a funny name). A magical drive through a carpet of heath in a blaze of purple and a backdrop of towering mountains topped with a cascade of cloud enveloping its peaks. If summer occurred only once per year in Scotland this surely would be the day.

Elgol is a dispersed settlement sprinkled over the hillside above a lovely bay that leads the eye across Loch Scavaig to the Cuillin mountains. What was most amazing about the place was the small one roomed school perched at the very end of the bay directly overlooking this inspiring view. What a great place to gaze out the window instead of doing school work!

From here we journeyed back to the mainland following windy mountain passes. Apart from ‘Butch the Tractor’, it appears the other thing that you have to give way to on these little lanes is the locals. And when I say locals I mean the local cows, sheep and even red squirrels. At one point we rounded a bend to be confronted by a cow and its calf calmly lumbering along the centre of the road probably on its way to church. No amount of horn blowing or light flashing would halt their journey so it was left up to us to make room and allow the family to pass.

While we so much wanted to stay longer in Skye, ‘Nessi’ wanted to visit her friend in Loch Ness so it was time to move on and continue our Highland journey.

Highlands Journey – coastal wonderland

As the popular saying goes “if you don’t like the weather in Scotland then just wait 20 minutes”. While it seems the main topic of conversation from January to December is the rain it did begin to lift and so did our spirits.

The beauty of having a campervan is that you are not fixed on where and when you go, which was ideal when we stumbled upon the most magnificent beach at Arisaig. We set up next to a little bay with lovely white sand (not pebbles like the England) and sat and watched the sky turn from blue to pink as the sun slowly slipped behind the isles of Eigg and Rum on the horizon. ………“Ah the serenity”.

With the sun making a welcome return in the morning what better place to spend and extra night and do nothing but enjoy this scenic wonderland. The kids played on the beach and fed the small pony which decided to graze next to us, Kathy read her book and I spent the time wondering along the coast.

Having now travelled through some of this lovely open landscape I can now see why many Scots feel at home in Australia. The heather clad mountains, wooded glens, beautiful lochs and stunning rugged coast are a natural wonder to behold.

Having made the pilgrimage to a dead guys mausoleum I thought I would see what other connections there are between Oz and Scotland apart from us beating them in the World Cup. It takes no more than a glance at the ozi banknotes to understand the role that Scots immigrants played in the development of our great country. It turns out one was born in Scotland ($5 Catherine Helen Spence), three are from Scots Australian families ($10 Andrew Barton Paterson and Dame Mary Gilmore, and $100 - Dame Nellie Melba) and one was a Presbyterian minister with close links to the Church of Scotland ($20, Reverend John Flynn). I also didn’t realise that Peter Dodds McCormick, a Scot, composed ‘Advance Australia Fair' in the 1800’s.
But enough of that – it was time to pack camp - well at least turn the gas off - and continue on our highlands journey.

Highlands Journey – Mull in the rain

The guide book recommends “before you leave your hotel be sure to pack your rain jacket, sunglasses, sunblock, thermals, gloves, snow shoes and may be an ice axe”… A good summary of what was to come on our 7 night campervan tour in the highlands of the Scotish west coast.

Picking up ‘Nessi’ our campervan for the week, we head off into a grey ominous mist which quickly turns into a solid rain. ‘Nessi’ turned out to be a comfortable little home with all the mod cons including TV, shower, toilet, kitchen, beds for 5 and a generator to run the 132 other appliances and lights onboard.

Our first destination was Oban on the west coast for a night before catching an early morning ferry to the Isle of Mull. With the rain turning into a torrential down-pour we slowly trundled along little lanes just wide enough for ‘Nessi’ to negotiate.

The advantage of driving something large enough to consume the road is that ‘size does matter’. Most times when we met oncoming cars it was a simple matter of them reversing the half mile for a spot for us to pass. ‘Nessi’ only lost one battle against the renowned ‘Butch the tractor’.

Despite the rain settling into a miserable drizzle, we donned raincoats and walked the mile to the Macquarie Mausoleum, the uninspiring resting place of the early Governor General of NSW. A site on very few tourist brochures, I can now see why, but we did our pilgrimage with honour.

From here we continued on to Tobormory. Not only is it a very pretty fishing village, it is also the film location to the children’s show ‘Balamory’, so the kids had fun looking at Miss Hoolies house and searching for PC Plum in the street.

With the rain now an annoying torrent it was no surprise that the guide book dedicated a whole page to “Things to do on Mull when it is wet”. And so we took their first option and went to the pub. With another early morning ferry, we set ‘Nessi’ up in the local school ground and just hoped that there was no early morning classes. As we drifted off to sleep the light patter of rain (or was that a policeman at the door) continued through the night.

I just remembered we forgot to pack the snow shovel!