Author: lucysgonesailing

It was always going to be hard going back to the tent after a night in a hotel. Made harder by the weather forecast. In less than 24 hours we’d become fair-weather campers and had booked ourselves into another hotel. A full circle moment because it was where we were due to stop for lunch on the first day before the various delays. It’s also a little lux to end a great week and gear up for a busy return to work.

We weaved our way from Torridon to Braemar, home to the Highland Games. The hotel is owned by two art collectors and houses some 16,000 pieces including Picasso, Reuben, three water colours by King Charles, a sketch by the late queen Victoria and various bespoke pieces. Sophie and I were booked in for a guided tour meanwhile the boys wandered around the village and kicked back in the bar.

After a lovely dinner in The Flying Stag listening to the late Queen’s Fiddler (!), Fynn bunked in with Dom, and Sophie and I retired to ours. Not the most economical arrangement but the only way they could accommodate us outside of the Royal Suite!

A spot of souvenir shopping with the children whilst we (namely Dom) completely overhauled the Landrover. Every item back in its home, every possession packed away, the shells, rocks (aka Fynn’s crystal collection) sorted and jettisoned where allowed.

Everyone bundled in, destination Edinburgh Airport with loads of time to meander our way there.

As we were driving out of the Cairngorms, Dom spotted a moving ski lift. We pulled over to investigate. Sure enough it was open to transport walkers to the top/bottom of the monros. Time to unpack all the warm clothing we’d just packed. Off we set.

Now to Pilochry, the home to one of our early dates almost exactly 10 years ago. Hettie’s Cafe was a huge success for lunch. Our first real rain of the week…Next stop the airport and a sad goodbye to The Beast.

We’ll be back!

Ps I wasn’t expecting to leave with one of these…

The sun blasting down on our tent made for a sweaty start. “That [insert colourful words here] cuckoo”, Dom’s assessment of the dawn/dusk chorus.

Fynn fancied helping with the washing up. I wasn’t going to complain. Off we set. I quickly established why he was so eager. He’d spotted the old, reclining chair in the corner, huge entertainment quickly drawing in a crowd of children.

Every morning Sophie diligently sits and does a worksheet. She’s been promised a ‘Dori stamp’ for each worksheet she does. Our nanny has a wonderful system rewarding them with an educational gift for every 10 stamps. It’s no more than 10-15 mins per day but makes a world of difference when she returns after the holiday. Sophie also reads us fascinating facts from the Scottish wildlife book as we go along. Apparently Highland cows eat so much grass every day that it would weigh the same as 400 apples.

After departing the campsite, Dom spotted a little fish monger van in the local library car park. 3 pots of prawns and hot salmon pate. The perfect car snack en route to Torridon.

Another pause to visit a waterfall overlooking Loch Maree and then on towards Torridon. Today was our little treat after 5 nights in our tent. The Torridon Hotel awaits.

Such a warm welcome to the most beautiful oasis on the loch. A friendly grounds woman mentioned that the children may be able to feed their highland cows so I went on a mission to find out.

Fynn expertly led us around the ‘Yellow Route’. A 2km path winding through the woods and their kitchen garden.

Drinks on the lawn, an early dinner and a wonderful sleep. More mosquitoes in the fancy hotel than the rest of the week!!

A small delay to proceedings as Dom got lost on his run. He returned to a cooked breakfast with tales of unexpected hilly climbs and a stag standing proud in a loch.

After the big pack up and a coating of sun cream we set off for Ullapool en route to Big Sands. The drive was breathtaking. A stretch of the legs at Rhue lighthouse to watch an old barge sail past whilst Soph and Fynn played in rock pools. Eagle eyes also spotted fighter jets and a herd of deer.

On to the beautiful Ullapool Seafood Shack (thank you for the recommendation Jack!…and Andrew, I’ve picked you up their recipe book. The smoked haddock and chorizo macaroni cheese was a real win according to Dom). We also picked up a highland wool blanket from a beautiful new outlet, the Noost Knit Company, our only souvenir thus far apart from a jar of honey.

With full bellies we travelled on to the suspension bridge over the Corrieshalloch gorge.

And then the real magic happened. Winding down a coastal road to our home for the night. Unlike most of the places we’ve stayed, there was no allocated pitch. We had to find a spot that worked for us and there was an absolute beauty with the help of a few big rocks to prop up the front wheel so our beds were flat. With no restrictions we had the bbq and stove going into the night after a trip to the beach throwing rocks and collecting shells. We (inc the kids) stayed up toasting marshmallows until the midges found us at 11pm. The first invasion of the trip. I smugly had my Skin so Soft so they got stuck to and slid down my legs.

It wasn’t just the midges that found us. Poor Fynn succumbed to a tick.

After jam sandwiches and a quick hop on a fellow camper’s motorbike, we were back at Dunrobin Castle watching the falconry display. Next stop the Wee Hoose and lunch in Lairg as we crossed from the East Coast to the West Coast. Sophie entertained herself by making wild flower bouquets and slotting them into the garden tables.

Stunning and quite different scenery as we traversed the country. The temperature also fluctuates quite wildly from a balmy 20-something to positively chilly in a matter of moments. We all have sheep-like fleeces that we appear to be living in over t-shirts and shorts. Quite odd. The two little people in the back are busy spotting wildlife and counting lakes and rivers.

En route to Achmelvich we found ourself at the most beautiful castle ruins (Ardvreck) at the top of a Loch. Once again feeling very blessed by the weather. Fynnof course jumped into a peat bog requiring a scrub down in the icy water.

The campsite was like a little pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. Not just because of the washing machine but the views, our private beach where the kids collected crystals and shells, the marshmallow toasting and the whales (orca?) passing by.

A helicopter apparently landed next to the campsite in the middle of the night. A medical emergency? Only one of us heard it, and it wasn’t me! I can only imagine how loud it was with the noise bouncing off the rugged landscape. One of my best sleeps.

Another epic work out for Dom leading the pack away efforts. Our setup attracts much attention, as does the pack away. We left Nairn behind us on the look out for Dolphins in the Moray Firth. A glorious morning. What’s all this about rain in Scotland?

First stop Cromarty to catch the ferry to Nigg with a quick pit stop in Fortrose en route. There were the oil rigs and wind turbines that brought to life the everyday back at work, a lifetime away. Impressive to see . A super cute takeaway spot, Suter Creek, with a fish & chip lunch in the queue for the ferry. We watched as it shuttled back and forth taking 1 or 2 cars at a time. ‘Ferry’ is a grand name for it.

Once on the other side we had two important stops before we found our home for the night. First up was Home Bargains to buy kites (something a high-energy one-armed boy can enjoy), then to Dunrobin Castle. What a mighty place that is. The lovely John on the front desk told us about the Falconry display the following morning and validated our ticket to return. After Sophie chose her favourite green and gold room and Fynn selected the uniform he’d most like to wear we were on our way again. A short hop up the road to Brora campsite.

Time to relax a little. We’d popped our ice packs in the office’s ice cream freezer and followed the instructions. “Walk across 2 fairways, look left then right, and you’ll be at a beach”. I took the kids to collect shells and crabs legs (?) whilst Dom popped the tent. Part of our strategy to divide and conquer else it gets too much for everyone. I set about rustling up chicken fajitas whilst Dom had his turn with drones, kites and a can of beer. I was imagining huge happiness as I could see the kites as specs in the sky. Some time later…

Sophie let go of her kite when it was fully unwound, Dom had to wade into the sea, he’d lost his sunglasses, everyone was hungry, it was too windy for the drone and dinner was cold. We laughed so hard.

Definitely the best campsite yet.

Did I mention that I’ve had to get over the superstition of walking under ladders? Normal service will resume in London.

Apparently I kept the campsite awake with my snoring. Hard to believe I’d actually fallen asleep. Bleary eyed but materially more relaxed. Night 1 was a success. WE CAN DO THIS!!

The Beast packed and ready for the off heading for Barrow Campsite, Nairn.

Shrieks from the back as daddy spotted the first highland cow and what a handsome creature it was.

The Highlander Bakehouse for cookies the size of Sophie’s head and honey, the truly beautiful Balmoral castle for a stretch of the legs, lovely Tarmachen cafe for a pit stop and the STUNNING Cairngorms. The roads weaving their way through deserted ski resorts. A bit windy for the drone.

I haven’t practiced my Scottish accent yet…!!

Our pitch set up in the rather blowy Nairn. Sheltered by The Beast we prepped chicken fajitas that we gobbled down.

As heads hit the pillows, the locals enjoyed their firework display…

This morning started with a gorgeous call catching up with my brother who was delighted to hear of our adventures and asked Sophie to share the picture of the cow. A few minutes later…James Grimstead, you’re extraordinary!!

Next stop Brora…

What a beautiful place this is. Every corner presents a majestical view. And today that was both literal and metaphorical

We’ve learnt a lot in the past 24 hours. Some quite fundamental things. After the handover delays our first leg had to be abandoned, as did the campsite we’d booked months ago, as did the NC500. I mentioned the impressive customer service yesterday. The final gesture meant the most. We’d called several campsites in the Cairngorms and all were fully booked for the bank holiday weekend. We were contemplating the fast road to Inverness (missing out the beauty of the Cairngorms), or wild camping on our first night (hardcore and an against the spirit of the Cairngorms National Park). Some time into our provisions shop, Darren called with a pitch at Loch Morlich campsite. That was exactly what we all needed. We now had a plan.

We were clearly surrounded by pros, one particularly grumpy one. Dom was awesome figuring out how to put the tents up. Before our eyes we’d transformed our wheels into our home.

Thank goodness it wasn’t raining. Every item and every bag open on the surrounding grass. We needed/wanted to reorganise everything once we’d discovered all the bits and bobs in the back of The Beast. No longer did we want a bag of the kids things and a bag for each of our bits. We wanted all the outer layers together, all the sleepwear together, all the shoes together, the snacks and so on. Grab bags that would make all the moments easier.

After an instant dinner it was bed time. I was doing the standard worried mum thing. Would they be too cold? If they woke in the night, would they remember to whisper? I totally chickened out and took my sleeping bag and crept into their tent. Three sardines

A morning of fried bacon and eggs, revised route planning, repacking, freezing ice blocks and charging phones (the lack of signal was chewing through batteries). The guys next to me asked for 2 Is. Iron-Bru. We are in Scotland!

We didn’t have the nerve to say we were tired. Our good friend had just run his first 100km ultra marathon from London to Brighton in THE heat. Congratulations team ‘Raising for Raif’.

I’m an all-in kind of a person so recent weeks have been huge fun figuring out what we might need to give us the best possible chance of a memorable holiday for all the right reasons.

I found someone to help with route planning. There are so many ways to break up the journey and we suspected that a little local knowledge would go a long way, or 516 miles to be precise. We topped that up with hints and tips, including from the customer who planted the seed. His generosity and detail were perhaps reflective of a mounting nervousness? We set off this morning with the knowledge of every toilet stop, supermarket, campsite, loch and mountain.

Then came the bits and bobs. How to keep an 8yr and 5 yr old entertained on the long, winding drives (we’ve got local flora and fauna books, mini magnetiles, folding car seat tables, binoculars, you name it). How to give all of us the best chance of any sleep with the late sundown and early rise (we introduced sleeping masks last week and found mini camping pillows). And how to cater for our children’s very particular wants and needs for fun and less fun bits of the holiday; Sophie goes back to school to exams (activity print outs), Fynn has a dairy allergy (oat milk supplies), the French cricket set, the kite…and how to get everyone on walks? That’s called getting Dom a drone for Christmas.

The last few days were meant to be the easy run-in or the ‘taper’, but that never seems to materialise in our lives. Dom was at a conference in Paris and I’d come up with an extensive and last minute to-do list. All was running to plan until about 5:30pm on Thursday. My gorgeous little girl poked her head around our home-office door. “Mummy, so sorry to disturb but Dori [our magical nanny] asked me to let you know that Fynn’s hurt himself”. “As in properly hurt himself?” She was so calm in her delivery that that I couldn’t equate her message with a crisis. “Yes mum, his arm is sore”. Oh crap! Sure enough, when I got downstairs Fynn had that signature carry of his arm that made it appear more than one of his daily, high speed bumps. That would equate because he’d fallen from a ladder in the playground at adult head-height.

I did some quick maths. I was an hour away from being home alone with the children (Dom was due back Friday night, and Dori was leaving at 6:30), I had a busy day planned at work, and of course the big off at 6am on Saturday. It meant one thing, and Dori had concluded similar, a precautionary trip to A&E. Dori and I were an incredible team and packed dinner, a pre-charged battery pack and iPad, Scotland books, snacks, jumpers, charging leads… 6:30pm rolled around to 2am. The calpol masked a fractured elbow and we left St George’s with a cast, sling and strict instructions not to get his arm wet. Bugger.

This bought all-change to our family’s Friday. Fynn at home, none of his jumpers or pyjamas fitting over his arm, Dom flying home early and a truly exhausted and emotional Jones contingent with a day of work and a full night of packing ahead.

And then I got a call.

The women on the end of the phone sounded nervous. And then I came to realise why. The landrover we’d hired, and were due to pick up in 12 or so hours time, had missed its ferry connection back from a Scottish island and was no longer able to meet our flight at Edinburgh airport at 10am. Bollocks. For a small family business this sort of thing could have meaningful consequence and she was determined to minimise. A lesson in great customer service. She’d got 4 people, rather than 1, on site to turn it around. She’d thought of a viable plan b and kept us informed.

Despite her brilliance, it was not without faff for a family team with low reserves. An unwanted schlep into town carrying all of our clobber for lunch. Our tightly planned schedule had just been ripped up. Our lunch reservation at the Fife Arms cancelled. Sigh. I’d booked us a slot at Left Luggage and Dom turned around the energy levels with an ice cream. Fine team work.

We were united with the currently unnamed beast at just after 3. We were on the road just after 4, and out of the supermarket just after 5. WE WERE ON OUR WAY…

…but no longer doing the NC500.

Im a big believer in drawing inspiration from those around and I’m lucky to have a career and network that inspires every day. This moment was a ‘first’ though…

A holiday born from a meeting discussing the ins and outs of risk management. Perhaps in a bid to liven up the meeting, the client flashed a picture of a landrover with a roof tent in the Highlands of Scotland with a beaming smile on their face. I was sold.

Now of course for the intricate matter of trying to onward sell to my husband. We’ve been glamping once together. A bed, a yurt, some electricity and that beautiful morning dew… “Ew, everything’s damp!”. This was a challenge for even a professional salesperson.

First step. The books. I have a highly amusing habit of impulsive book purchases. They sit on my bedside table, collect dust and every day I commit and fail to reading them. The children would flick through the pages gravitating to the beautifully shaggy highland cows. The books are in my cabin bag, I’m sure I’ll read them at some point.

Second step. The occasional reference to the genuine dream I’ve always had to spend time in Scotland. Testing the water some might say. And this is where the BBC played a blinder. I’d heard about this programme called Traitors but had never watched. Well, we are now hooked. And of course the greatest advertisement for the stunning highlands.

The third step and perhaps the most critical. The purpose. This took a while. If we were going to go to Scotland, what would our family of four do there? Dom and I went hiking and mountain biking in Pitlochry at the infancy of our relationship. It goes down in history as one of my (our?) favourites. But of course, life’s different now and there’s no way that the little legs in our family would endure. Other adventures had included an RV around the west coast of Canada and the ‘ring of fire’ in Iceland. It turns out Scotlands equivalent was the North Coast 500 (NC500). Bingo. Too early to vocalise. Now I needed the lure…

The fourth step. How do design such my husband, would actually enjoy. Really genuinely love. It needed something that would make it stand out. Google had a role to play. The roads are too windy for a campervan. The idea of having to pre plan hotels, stressful. Overland Adventures came to the rescue. One old fashioned landrover, two roof tents with ladders, a campfire and the ‘lux package’ of fairy lights (essential) and a telescope. Hooray.

Step 5. The approach. Thus far the planning had been broadly covert. Nothing booked, just the harnessing of ideas. Before the big conversation, the final checks. Those that have followed our previous adventures will know that mozzies and midges LOVE me. They are synonymous with the Lochs and Munroes. It was all about timing. May half term seemed to give us the best shot at being insect-less. Now for the final “Darling, how would you feel if…”

Marriage is about compromise right? This moment was about negotiation. And it went a little like this ‘yes, we can do a long and luxurious, all-inclusive summer holiday…with a sprinkling of the rustic in May’. Before there was any risk of minds being changed, it was booked. They both were.

The funny thing though is that as our excitement has grown, so has this client’s trepidation.

Anyway, we’ve just touched down in Edinburgh and are about to start living the dream.