Benj Great Spring Escape

So here we are - end of my Great Spring Escape, appropriately finishing (almost) where it started, with Frankie and Dean and family in Letchworth Garden City. And today was very much a family affair, with Louis playing in a 'friendly' football match against a team in Harlow, Essex, a long drive away. The day was delightfully sunny, the game not so much! The teams were badly mismatched, the Harlow team by common consent from our touchline probably one or two divisions above Louis' Baldock, and this was reflected in the score (which I won't spell out), despite Louis playing his wee socks off, bless him.  The rest of the day was extremely lazy for me, less so for Frankie beavering in the garden and for her and Dean shopping and preparing dinner. I feel thoroughly pampered for my last day away from home. I am rather spoiled the fact that both Frankie and Dean are excellent cooks, and we enjoyed a very tasty family mealand then retired to the lounge to share a wide range of ...

Curate's Egg day today, to be sure: definitely good in parts, but leaving a bad taste at the end. Starting with The Good.  I Googled things to experience in Boston Lincs, avoiding all the great offers from Boston MA. I needed a breakfast and loo stop, and driving towards the city, I dropped into a Premier Inn, which I've found to be ideal in previous trips, and had coffee and croissant. An obvious landmark is St Botolph's Church, known locally, and affectionately, as The Lump, not least because it's visible on the horizon from practically every part of the strikingly flat Lincolnshire countryside.  However, I also wanted at least a smidgeon of exercise and open air, so  I headed for the twitchers' paradise of Freiston Shore, where I had a gentle stroll down a long (flat) lane to a bird hide by a huge lagoon. I'd remembered to take my binoculars, so for a time I sat alone by the opened window and enjoyed watching waterfowl swimming, dipping, and flying. I know so...

 Well, a very strange entry for me to write of this as Day1 of a new week (9),  nominally the last day of my long meanderings, apart from the planned reunion with my Herts family tomorrow, which in my mind amounts to a homecoming in all but the postcode.  Today has been, as anticipated, a rather tedious journey of over four hours of A-roads and motorway driving, with a couple of Moto stops to answer nature's call a d restore my caffeine levels . I had only a half hour of more interesting country back roads, thanks to Google offering  me an alternative route because of holdups on the A66, in Lincolnshire.  My BritStop for tonight is the Castle Bar and Grill on the outskirts of Boston, a family run establishment. My host - Jimmy - directed me to the back of the pub, beyond the normal car park, and came out and provided me with a power line led out from the garage, for which fortunately I did have the requisite adapter, never used before until now! So I have a fina...

Strange to be writing this from the Metal Bridge Inn in Carlisle, not least because as week 8 closes, I'm back south of the border, and slowly winding my way back home. The Metal Bridge is a BritStop stay popular with motorhomers because of its location on the border, the decent meals, and the large car park with a small toilet block. There is a river walk available, much used by the dog walkers (about 50% of motorhomers in my experience), but I declined as the wind and drizzle made it unappealing.  But there's comparatively little (literally) to write home about from today's travels. After a good breakfast at the Hopetoun Arms I sat poring over maps and apps trying to plan the final stage of my wanderings. Various plans and half plans that had filled my thoughts for the last few days hadn't come to fruition. As I noted earlier I had lost the opportunity to visit Cate's Castle, the cool slightly drizzly days weren't conducive to country walks, and an anticipated...

A rainbow welcome from the Hopetoun Arms, Leadhills, the highest residential hotel in the UK at 1375 feet, in the highest inhabited village in Scotland.  And as an unexpected bonus for a BritStop place, I get electric hookup in the car park for £10! And my steak pie was lovely. And if you think the public bar looked cosy, take a look at the lounge, where I'm seated right now. I'm not sure the landlady will be able to prise me out later.  Enough of that. I'm supposed to tell you about my journeys, as I'm beginning to feel the time to go home is approaching. I received an email reply about my proposed visit to Dunans Castle too late, as I'd already just left my camp, starting to head towards the Borders. Have to come back another time to Laird Cate's baronial hame. I'd aimed to stay here at Leadhills tonight, and called ahead to book a place, and I plotted a course that would avoid getting to close to Glasgow (nothing against Glasgow, just the traffic round th...

As I start this entry (relaxing with a cuppa and a Kit Kat) I'm in Tyndrum Holiday Camp, following a day of driving through Glencoe. Very peaceful here among the pines, with not much noise from the nearby A82. I woke early in my lovely spot at Onich Hotel car park and took my morning coffee down to the shore of the Loch before my (showerless) wash and brush up, then walked back up to the hotel for a great FSB with haggis and black pudding - the full McMonty. Chatted to a couple also in a campervan and compared notes. I was impressed by their experience with a diesel heater - maybe a project before I do any autumn/winter trips. My target for today was Glencoe, and I took the single-track back road which winds its way through incredible scenery. I don't know what the essential criterion is for something to be described as 'majestic', but these mountains simply are, and the gorges are, er, gorgeous. (The cairn is in honour of all who have died on these mountains and reads ...

Here's my spot for the night, on the shore of Loch Linnhe outside the Onich Hotel, not far south of Fort William. Not bad, eh?  Slow departure from Spean Bridge this morning while I did my laundry, then headed SW, aiming for Ben Nevis area. Aiming high, I took the only mountain gondola in the UK, ignoring  my  normal antipathy to altitude, and ascended a modest 650metres on the slope of Aonach Mor.  I really wanted to down a dram of  Ben Nevis single malt at the highest bar in the UK, but they weren't open, so I made do with a coffee.  At the start of the road through Glen Nevis there used to be a curling rink in winter, and they've landscaped it and added a sculpture to represent the sport.  I was feeling a distinct lack of walks and waterfalls today, so continued up the Glen to the Lower Falls, and then walked on for about a mile, not enough to reach the Upper Falls, which would involve a bit of a scramble, so I called it a day at that, and turned ro...

 No disturbance at all last night from my neighbours across the cemetery wall, and no early dog walkers before 0900, so a good 'wild' night. Needing to find somewhere breakfast, Dr Google found some which were no longer working, but I had a good eggs Benedict at the Loch Ness Deli  back in Drum, and again made use of their WiFi to do my accommodation research. I booked a campsite at Bunroy, near Spean Bridge, towards the Fort William end of the Great Glen. The day was a patchwork of weak sunshine and light showers, and the Bens along Loch Ness were covered in cloud to a low altitude. I passed south through Fort Augustus, whose impressive staircase of Canal locks I remembered well from Cate and my passage in the northerly direction in 2007, heading for Inverness where Vega would over-winter while Cate's surgery etc was taking place in London. (Today I refuelled at Fort Augustus.)  I was keen to revisit the Well of the Seven Heads en route, for nostalgic reasons. It's one...

 Since I'm now in Drumnadrochit, shore of Loch Ness, I should start with this cool toilets sign in Fiddlers Restaurant    So I left my hosts and old friends Clem and Rosalind in Colbokie, hoping it won't be another 10 years before we meet again. I'm afraid Clem and I (Ros was more sensible) had had another late session setting the world to rights, and again for me it was lights-out at 3am. The drive to Drum (as locals call it) was just over an hour, cross country avoiding Inverness, and I had a bowl of soup at the Fiddlers, mostly to use their WiFi to search for sites for the night. There is a campsite not far away, but I liked the look of a car park by the old cemetery with access to woodland walking that might or might not lead to Loch Ness. Meanwhile there were stalls on the green selling all the usual range of locally made products, where I bought some gifts to take home.  I found the cemetery and large car park, very secluded at the end of a long lane, and the e...

  Slightly earlier to bed tonight (0100 as opposed to 0200) after chewing the fat with Clem on a whole world of subjects. So I may even be up before 0930, unlike yesterday. Today was wall to wall sunshine again, and Rosalind had packed a picnic lunch to enjoy on a tour of the Black Isle. We followed the north shore of the large peninsula, aiming for Cromarty at the far east end. The view across the Cromarty Firth showed the vital industrial base for the area, with oil rigs and construction works.  But we enjoyed our sandwiches and tea, watched by Robins, blue tits, thrushes and blackbirds - the most bird life I'd seen on this trip (apart from numerous pheasants braving the roads.  Nearby was the Old Brewery, converted largely into part of the Cromarty Arts Centre, which has an extensive program of activities. I eyed enviously the preparation for this weekend's residential retreat on Crime and Thrillers, with authors including the likes of Mark Billingham. I added my name ...

At the ludicrous hour of 2am, I wind up Week 7 of my Great Spring Escape in an actual comfy bed, in Culbokie in the Black Isle,  not merely comfy but warmed by a hot water bottle courtesy of Rosalind Imrie - what a thoughtful hostess - thank you Rosalind. As well as a home cooked dinner and a long afternoon and evening of reminiscing about old friends and colleagues that she and Clem and I have shared over 5 decades in Glasgow, as well as catching up on our respective families' lives. So I have  opened this short entry with the view from the Imries' home across the Cromarty Firth. But to start at the beginning of my day I found my way to the almost wholly concealed gate to the Eilean Ban, from the busy carriageway of the Skye Bridge one of whose supports is built on the island. I was met by Katia, a delightful lady from the south of France who spends part of her summer as a guide to this former home of naturalist and writer Gavin Maxwell. The interior Long Room of the cottage ...