Benj Great Spring Escape

 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 ...

 So where was I, or indeed where am I. I'm afraid it can get quite hard to keep track. I am still at the Reraig Campsite and in fact at the next door hotel having just had fish and chips. I was sorry to discover that there's no laundry facility at the site, but yesterday evening the Warden told me there's a good one at Kyle so that was my first morning mission. It's a Community run facility by the harbour, and I was able to replenish my supplies of clean gear, while having a coffee in the Bothy next door, and doing the Herald cryptic crossword.  As I noted yesterday, the Gavin Maxwell Museum and  Bright Water Centre are no more,  but it's still possible to arrange a conducted visit to Eilean Ban where he lived and wrote, and the Stevenson lighthouse. It took two more crossings of the bridge to find the entrance, eventually alerted by the young French guide (curator?) standing at the gate which is actually on the bridge and looks like an improbable stopping place. So...

And my Stay4Night 'camp' behind what I now know is a disused boathouse, was indeed very silent and comfortable. And when I woke finally at 0800 it was still earlier than the first ferry return from the island, so there wasn't even a single car on the road. And, as previously noted on the Stay4Night app, the toilet facilities do indeed stay open, with lights on, all night, with hot water in the taps, so I walked 100 yards and enjoyed my wash and brush up, and returned to the van and had coffee and porridge at the picnic table in the morning sun. My distillery tour was scheduled for 11am, and I drove up early and sat in the sun, gazing across to the Cuillins, a sight that has not yet tired for me. The tour guide was Steve, a longtime Raasay resident with an inexhaustible knowledge of the island as well as the distillery. The other guests for the tour were a Swiss couple with their infant boy in a back-carrier, and a couple plus friend, residents of Callendar. All had visited ...

I write from my 'wild' camping spot on Raasay, having just yomped down to the van from the Raasay Distillery after my meal, guided by torchlight down the 10 minutes walk home. Probably not helped by several whites and reds and a wee nightcap of the local produce. Anyway I made it 'home' OK having decided that the walk there and back would be safer than the short drive. And anyway I didn't want to risk losing my perfect Park4Night spot. I left the Portree Campsite this morning and headed for Sconser for the ferry to Raasay, which leaves almost every hour until 7pm, and enjoyed the receding view of Skye and passing Scalpay as we approached Raasay, a short hop across the Sound, where Cate and I had previously sailed, without any prospect of landing, but noted that there is now a good number of brand new pontoons, inviting for leisure sailors. Noting this possible place for my night as I passed, I drove on up the steep hill to the Distillery and checked my booking for t...