Home to Scotland: Day 3

.... we wake up in the tent and everyone seems to have had a good night sleep. All joints and bones aren't too tender and it looks like we could climb another mountain today. The weather on the other hand tells a different story. The sunny vistas of yesterday have been replaced by ominous cloud covered peaks:



While Marilyn and I clear up the tent my brother makes breakfast:



Breakfast is by far my favourite part of camping. Bacon, Tattie Scones, Black pudding, sausages. Very unhealthy, but cooked outside and washed down with fresh espresso - you feel like you are a eating food fit for a king.

With full bellies, we set off to Appin. My grandparents retired to Appin from Glasgow when I was about 7. Appin is a small village on the coast of Loch Lhinnie. I've been here countless times and used to hate it. There was never anything to do, and if there was anything to do you couldn't do it cos it was raining. Maybe It's thanks to Glabal warming or maybe it's thanks to living in the Netherlands, but I appreciatte the scenery so much more now, and I really love this area of Scotland:



We arrive at my Grandmother's house and her neighbour greets us as if it is a few days and not a year since I was last here. Inside we get a shower and a coffee. The place hasn't changed much at all - a few extra photos and postcards on the wall from the grand weans travels, and the computer is in the living room now. My granmother can surf, internet, email and MSN with the best of them.

Once we are refreshed and freshened we head off for a walk along the beach. Outside my grandmothers home there is a very picturesque single keep castle called Castle Stalker. It is one of the most photoed castles in Scotland due to it's position on an island in the middle of a loch surrounded by mountains.





We take a walk along the beach and admire the beautiful views and the peacefulness and serenity.



The weather is not looking to hot, theres rain clouds in the sky - but we decide to head off to Glencoe and see what we can do. It's now about 1pm - a little late to be starting a munro. By the time we get to Glencoe - it looks like someones taken the mountaisn in for cleaning. The mist and cloud floats around and flirts with you by revealing little bits of beautiful rock faces at a time. Glencoe becomes ominous and threatening as we drive deeper into it:





It doesn't make it any less beautiful - and the atmosphere is electric. Glencoe was the site of a Massacre in 1692, where 70 MacDonalds were killed by soldiers for not pledging allegiance to William of Orange quick enough. There homes were burned and their wife and children were left to flee to their deaths in the mountains. So these hills are full of history.

Despite us being awe-struck as to the beauty of the mountains yesterday, today's "bad" weather is making the mountains scarey.



After visiting the visitor centre, the weather really deteriorates:



We have decided at the Visitor centre that there's a wee walk we can do which takes us along the path for Buachaille Etive Mor. It's not quite a munro, but it gets us into the jungle of sparse land and mountains.

We drive along through the mountains until we get to the foot of Buachaille Etive Mor. It's very daunting walking up the path towards a mountain shrowded in cloud. As we get out of the car and get kitted up in our rain clothes, the midgies descend once more.

This is a much different walk to yesterday - the weather is WET, and it could get worse, but the air smells wonderful and the atmosphere is thick and heavy.

We climb along the steep rocky path speaking to people coming down. Visibility is of course zero at the top, The mountain is very busy though, with a steady stream of people coming up and down. We get to the foot of the peak - where it splits from steep rocky fields to rocky incline which requires hands and feet.



We've decided (over some lunch) that we shouldn't go any further today, due to the weather, the time, and the long drive home. This was the plan when we got out of the car, but once we were on the mountain, the feeling of having the path under your feet and the peak stretching up in front of us fuelled the mischievous little fire inside if you which wants to climb everything. I know from looking at the map, that we could just about squeeze in the main peak of Buachaille Etive Mor, but from there, there's so many cool mountains that i worry the fire would win any argument. This is why these mountains are so dangerous.

With heavy hearts, we head back down to the car. We took the mature option, but being so close to more peaks, reminds us how good this is and how we wish it could last forever - I suppose this is how adventures should feel; you're hungry for more.

We get in the car and start the slow process back down through the mountains. The weather is minging. Rain stoating off the windscreen etc. We get off at Rannoch Moor just to see the comparison from the day before:



It's spooky, there's a mist hanging on everything, and the wind whistles past you. It reminds me of Culloden. I don't mind it like this - it's not mountain climbing weather, but it's still atmospheric, and that brash cold wind in your face and the clear clear air in your lungs still feels good.

The traffic is slow because of the weather. We are stuck in a long line of traffic in the rain. No more adventures to look forward to, just a long drive. Marilyn is asleep in the back seat and me and my brother are quite quiet. The radio's got no reception. You can imagine how terrible holidays in Scotland can be if you don't get good weather. The other disadvantage is that you've already seen most stuff as well:



This mountain looks far less impressive when it's disappearing behind you than when it's rising up in front of you.

At Tyndrum we stop off for a pee and a paper. The news story picks us up somewhat. Apparently Steve Coogan has fathered a child to Courtney Love after a 14 day coke fuelled sex session in a hotel in LA. This is one of the most bizarre pairings of all time as Steve Coogan doesn't exist in most people's eyes, he's actually Alan Partridge:





Kurt Cobain must be rolling in his grave!!! I bet he could write a good song about it though. It would end with him groaning and screaming "RADIO NORWICH!!!!!"

By now, we are well down Loch Lomond. The traffic is going so slow that I'm reading the newspaper while I drive. We're chugging along in second gear. We decide to stop off in Luss for a pee. You can hardly see the Loch, the weather's so minging:



The good news is, we're nearly home. It's been a long but fun weekend, but the long journey home has got Marilyn sleeping in the back seat and me looking foward to stopping driving.

We arrive in Mauchline, and there's a big spread ready for us to eat. We get showered and refreshed, and then get to tell the stories of our weekend adventures.

We have a good feed - I write my postcards - and then we head off for a nightcap at one of my local pubs. It's a far better atmosphere than Friday night - a real thriving village pub. We're there with a few mates of my brothers, but it's a small enough village that I know most people in there. It's a good taste of Scottish pub life for Marilyn. Especially when some little ned starts drunkenly insisting on slurring through a conversation with everyone at our table. He's really annoying, but it's a good example of Scottish culture, so for once I'm quite pleased.

So with a belly full of Tennants and memories of good conversation, we head home to bed.....