Category: Scotland 2026

There can be many many different reasons why roots are put down and established in one certain place. Work. Family. Friends. Schools. With countless beautiful locations to choose from, most of us rarely live in our ideal location.

So we end up where we are. Compromise our longings. Count our blessings. Get on with living.

Day 14 – Highland weather, changeable at best, shows off its wonderful landscape in ever changing ways. A photo shoot waits around every corner, eager to surprise and enthrall. This misty leg of NC500 takes us along the other side of Loch Assynt. It’s incredible to think that families would put down roots and survive in this wilderness. The ruins of 15thC Ardvreck Castle a typical example.

With the promise of brightening skies, we head down into Inverewe. Pitch up at the Camping and Caravan Club site, a few hundred yards from a pretty house and lakeside gardens – a good reason to make use of our recently acquired trust membership.

Walking back to camp, after her brief encounter, Mrs S, still warmly wrapped in afterglow thoughts, mentions she could certainly live in Scotland!

Then clarifies, “If only it was warmer!!!”

Day 15 – A short last leg brings our NC500 loop to a too brief end at Beauly. Described by Mary Queen of Scots during her summer visit in 1564 “C’est un beau lieu”.

An old ruined priory plus an award winning shop attracts our attention.

The Royal Bank of Scotland are in town. But not as we know it. Perhaps they’re trialling the idea of opening a branch here? 🤣🤣🤣

The priory is nothing to write home about, but its land houses this two hundred year old sycamore tree.

Purchased in 2009, the Victorian Primary School has been converted into a mini-department store with the former classrooms housing various collections. Homeware, womens, books, music, jewellery, gifts, kids – many items with a made in Scotland sticker. A mini emporium that delights Mrs S, who is forever on the look-out for something new, or different for grandson Jason.

When thinking of an iconic road trip, one immediately thinks of exotic far flung places. Route 66 in America, Italy’s Amalfi Coast, or even Argentina’s Ruta 40.

Day 12 – Today we continue on leg two of Scotland’s famous and much loved (especially by MOHOmers) CN500. A five hundred mile round trip that circumnavigates this rugged highland region. Starting and ending in Inverness.

We end the day pitched up at Bettyhill on the north coast, at Craigdhu Caravan Site. This east to west hilly section brings back many memories for Mr S and his LeJog cycle ride. He’s surprised at how busy the road seems today in comparison, until Mrs S reminds him that LeJog was during Covid!

Our journey so far . . .

Day 13 – With diesel pump prices hovering around the £2 per litre mark, it’s likely that the biggest expense on this trip will be fuel. For the first time ever, Beastie swallows over £100 on one fill.

The scenery along this 160k leg is stunning. Best to let the photos and video say it all.

Seven minutes from today’s glorious leg . . . with a reminder of how quickly the weather can change.

We end the day pitched up on the remote Shore Caravan Site at Achmelvich, north of Lochinver.

Not knowing if touring a more northern country this time of the year was going to be wise, was always going to be a gamble. However, the more we travel in Scotland, the more we warm to it – despite the weather. The scenery delights and the Scots are super friendly.

We may just have one more castle visit in us. But that’s not today. A short bus ride drops us a stone’s throw from Inverness Castle. Despite its impressive position, we give it a cold shoulder. Turn our backs and head for the cathedral. (There’s novel!)

We cross the river in search of the small cathedral. Flag waving supporters for the Palestinian People line both sides of the bridge. Hoping to engage. Maybe get a donation. We stop and chat with Wendy. It’s damp and very blowy. Despite having a severely disabled son, she commits to keeping Palestine’s plight visible.

We turn our backs on the cathedral too. A set charge for entry required. Not the best advert for a house of prayer and worship. A peep through the window reveals no visitors inside!

By the time we recross, the flags have moved to wave outside Council House.

The weather changes. We go in search of somewhere warm and dry.

Having invested in a joint National Trust for Scotland membership we head up to Culloden Battlefield, where the last pitched battle on British soil was fought in 1746. A place where GB history hung in the balance. But very briefly. We spend a hugely windy thirty minutes hanging on to every fascinating word shouted out by Callum, before retiring to the visitor centre. If only history was taught like this sixty years ago! And I don’t mean in a field!!

Our day ends a little further north at Camping Golspie.

Scotland has a climate where daytime temperatures hover around the height of one’s kneecaps. Throw in the windchill factor that blows in icy gusts from the north, and that temperature inversely rises to reach any exposed nether region. It therefore beggars the question, Why on earth would they start wearing a short kilt?

Our daytime temperatures have plummeted. Shorts abandoned. Socks, trainers, jeans and upper layers now the order of the day. Along with a ready waterproof. Frequent squally showers a constant threat.

Glencoe Caravan and Camping Club site lies in an enviable position. emphatically hemmed in on all sides, by a cluster of lumpy hillocks. It’s a very long narrow site. Horseshoe shaped. Beastie’s allocated a pitch four hundred paces from the shower and toilet facilities, so it’s not only the threat of a downpour that can be the cause of a mad dash.

We’re still heading north. Inverness today’s end of drive. With the ‘Nevis’ range to our left, we stop off at an impressive memorial to the Commando Regiments. This part of Scotland was often used as their training ground

Ben Nevis is right over there – honest!

Once pitched up north of Inverness on Torvean Caravan Park, a canal side leg stretch is called for. Inverness Rowing Club is out in force.

For 99.9 percent of house owners, one can only imagine what it must be like to own and live in a beautiful castle. It must be true too that those castle owners can only imagine the opposite!

So that’s exactly what we do when we walk around the immaculate gardens and impressive stately rooms of Inverary Castle. Don’t we?

Of course, we’d need a few gardeners. Perhaps a chef, or two. Three, or maybe four cleaners. Would a butler seem out of place? What about a nanny for the kids? Then there’s the flat in Mayfair and the holiday home in Salcombe . . . can we really afford all that? I suppose we could always sell one of our islands, if times become a little hard . . .

Or, better still, why don’t we live in our own private wing and charge 100,000+ yearly visitors to have a quick look round and let them help with the up keep?

With over fifteen million Campbells worldwide, the house attracts many overseas visitors.

The kitchen displays a fine assortment of jelly moulds. Used to create sweet and savoury jellies. In those days the gelling agent was made from shavings of hart’s horn (hartshorn is the antler of male red deer) and the swim bladder of a fish. Mmmm, yummy!

Inside the castle shop, a woman customer is unable to get a signal on her phone. “Do you have free wifi?” “Yes” – a couple of seconds later, she checks, finds a connection, screams out a laughing “2-cheeses-go-rolling!” Oops. Mr S had forgotten to turn his hot-spot off.

We leave the castle and enjoy a spot of the wet stuff along the way to Glencoe.

A favourite child’s story can stay a lifetime. Bring back fond memories of mum’s, or dad’s voice as they’d have read the story – time and time and time again.

Today is rainy. Very rainy. We stop off at Ardkinglas Woodland Garden, an aside to the Ardkinglas Estate. The secluded route down to the entrance a fingers crossed type of track. A short sortie into the unknown always provides Mrs S with some prayer time.🤣

We use the opportunity to take some photos, make some videos for grandson Jason. We go in search of the formidable . . . ?

Mrs S, always willing to climb the highest mountain for Jay. Or maybe get just a little bit wet . . .

There is something rewarding about being enveloped by nature. Especially, when you have it all to yourself.

For the adults, there’s an old ruin of a mill, which we ignore. But not the pretty bridge views.

Then it’s onwards and upwards to Argyle Caravan Park, just south of Inverary.

Not that it’s possible to actually check, but we’re confidently informed that every snowflake that has ever fallen and every snowflake that will ever fall, is unique. Yet to us they all appear to be identical. Possessing the same characteristics. Based upon a master ice-blueprint.

Having decided to give Stirling Castle a wide birth last week-end (due to the Radio 2 Road Show being in town), we double back, for more of the same. A totally free Park & Ride service drops us right outside – almost. All we have to do is head up to the towering castle that sits four hundred feet above what was once Scotland’s capital.

It’s dour exterior camouflages its bright and lively interior. There’s usually one or two memorable standouts from any such visit. Stirling Castle doesn’t disappoint.

The King’s inner hall houses a magnificent neck-aching ceiling of painted carved oak roundels depicting historical figures.

Craftsman John Donaldson spent five years carving 37 replica Stirling Heads currently on display. 

On the ‘Queen’s’ side of the castle, in the Queens Outer Hall, we’re treated to an array of quirky information – gossip-style, by the very amusing Helen Ross. She’s Google’s equivalent when it comes to anything and everything concerning the ‘latest’ tittle-tattle that’s been passed down over the centuries. An expert in textiles, Helen’s been entertaining visitors for the last fifteen years, while busying herself in her latest project.

Our day ends as inmates at the Old Jailhouse. Another amusing and talented story teller engages us with his thirty minute one man show. Scotsman Kyle takes on the role of half a dozen characters that were part of the jail’s 19thC history. However, that of Frederick Hill, Scotland’s first Inspector of Prisons, was rather confusing. His interchanging mix of South African and Ozzie accents, only became clearer when we learned that Hill was born a Brummie. Mr S could have provided the necessary tuition.

From time to time an escape would hit the local headlines . . .

History has taught us that there has always been the haves and the have nots. Wealth and power grabbed from under the feet of the ‘everyday people’. In the past, by force and subjugation. Nowadays a more subtle and subliminal force maintains that quid pro quo. The ‘plebs’ unaware of the unequal balance of their daily transactions. That is until they receive their monthly card statement!

The Royal Family and King Charles III certainly have their critics. There are many reasons put forward as to why their privilege should cease. But that in itself would not change one iota of how the wealth of society is distributed.

Today we visit Dumfries House. Owned and operated by the King’s Foundation as an educational, events and visitors centre.

Living with a purpose, enhances any life. The varied specialist courses available through the King’s Foundation, not only here at Dumfries House, provide many young people with such opportunities, to do just that – at a cost of course!

Within the arboretum – under supervision and guidance, this woodland shelter was designed and built by students studying on the summer school Heritage Building Craft Programme.

Lost in the Maze, Mrs S follows her nose . . .

Our day ends alongside Loch Lomond at Milarrochy Bay Camping with a thorough drenching.

Of the many shortened words used in the ‘English’ language, few can sound more Scottish than the word brolly. One can imagine it’s a word that’s had more use over the centuries in this rainy north western region than perhaps other parts of Britain.

Of course, it’s no longer considered effeminate, or a social sin for a man to own and use such an apparatus. Thanks for that, lie with the 18thC pioneer Jonas Hanway. A brave man of his time; he dared to brazenly walk the streets of rainy London brandishing his brolly.

Day 4 – We move further west heading towards Culzean Castle Camping, a few miles south of Ayr and tomorrow’s go-to. Unsurprisingly called Culzean Castle! We’re making hay while the remains of this dry and balmy weather lasts.

Having more castles per square mile than anywhere else in the UK, the Scottish road sides are literally littered with brown signs. Invitations to the tourist to ‘come hither’. We do just that. Turn right. Go see what’s remaining of Castle Kennedy.

You can’t have too much of a good thing. Across the way, we discover that the burned out ruin of Castle Kennedy sits in the grounds of Lochinch Castle.

Day 6 – A fifteen minute walk from site leads to today’s treat. The stunning cliff-top Culzean Castle.

In those days, owners of such properties would go to great lengths to impress their guests . . .

It’s always a bonus when you come across a small ‘thing’ of delight . . .

We’ve all experienced the emotion of walking into a room filled with complete strangers. Imagining all eyes will turn. Thankful that only a few do. Even more thankful when one of those strangers ‘understands’. Walks over and gives you a warm welcome smile and “Hello”.

Our journey to Brighouse Bay Holiday Park is split in half. Beastie’s first sortie onto Scottish soil naturally leads us into Dumfries, home to ‘Burns House’ and mausoleum. Revered throughout Scotland and many parts of the globe. Universally recognised for his “Auld Lang Syne’. But for Mr & Mrs S, little else.

Within the hour, that changes. Receptionist Gerry (with a ‘G’) delights us with a warm and captivating verbal biopic of Bard Robbie’s life, death and works.

As we approach St Michael’s Church, Christine steps down. Keen to welcome us into what she knows will be a massive surprise.

Religious, practise meditation – to consider their place in the grand scheme of things. Athletes, tune in and focus – to cut themselves off from all forms of negativity and doubt. Acedemics, search for information – then soak it in like a sponge. Artists, free themselves from reality – in the hope of rising above normality. Scientists, constantly delve into the workings of the universe – in order to determine how it works.

MOHOmers pull on their masks of equanimity – ready themselves for all agents of frustration likely to be encountered on any given day’s travel.

Day 1 – The quickest way up and into Bonnie Scotland is going to be by motorway. Thankfully, today’s uneventful journey ends at Kingsbury Water Park as planned. A Caravan & Camping Club site, just north-east of Birmingham. A few hundred yards from Aston Villa’s plush training facility in Bodymoor Heath Lane. How times have changed from the ’60s when many an end to a training session, was concluded on uneven hard-standing with a fifteen aside – playground style.

Day 2 – The MOHO state of mind kicks in. Massive hold ups and slow moving traffic on the M6, coupled with periods of torrential rain slow today’s afternoon miles to walking pace at times. Culminates in a road closure and diversion just when tonight’s site was in spitting distance. It’s 18.40pm by the time Beasties edges onto the lush green grass at North Dykes Farm, on the outskirts of Penrith.

Earlier, the M6 snail’s pace crawl generates a spontaneous decision to break the journey with a two hour stop off at the 725 acre Trentham Gardens Estate. A welcome frustration freeing walk around the one mile long lake.