Crianlarich, United Kingdom

We decided that the unfriendly people must be the English and those from the continent. Not a greeting, head nod, grin – nothing. And yet the Scots cannot be friendly enough! They are helpful, take their time, greet with a big smile and are genuinely just extremely pleasant, which makes such a difference! The man at the university guiding the traffic is such a prime example of this – his genuine kindness in helping us in the righ direction makes me even prouder to be part of this university, even though I have never set foot on campus. This morning we wake up a wee bit later – at 06h30. We decide to pack up and drive to a quiet spot to start digging into our Waitrose supply like two naughty boys. There are Hobnobbs, Nairn digestives, McVites (with dark chocolate), oak smoked bacon, free range eggs, a chuunk of Stilton and best of all – Branston Pickle. The Keltie Bridge Campsite is certainly not what it seems on the website, yet it was only a stop over as we could not stick our heads out of the van for the pouring rain! We venture off to Callander and drive along Lake Venachar to Inversnaid on Loch Lomond. These are the roads that nightmares are made of – single track, winding along the loch with cars coming at you at a staggering speed. I am the driver – the only way I could survive the control freak in me. The road actually ends at Inversnaid – a dramatic stop on the Loch Lomond, near where the infamous Rob Roy was laid to rest. Here I learn what a Hill Billy is – thought they were those strange middle America people…. They are actually shaggy feral goats left behind when the Crofters were cleared from the land in the 18th century. The poor Crofters were chased from their land to make place for sheep. Now that was a dumb idea and caused a major hickup in Scottish history. Thanks to Rob Roy some asses got kicked. (I will have to read up on history to make sure I give a better slightly more accurate historic account…). One needs to be a poet to describe the dramatic landscape of the Scottish Highlands – there is no way to do it any justice from a mere mortal. Poet and priest Gerald Manly Hopkins wrote about Inversnaid: “What would the world be, once bereft Of wet and wilderness? Let them be left, Oh let them be left, wilderness and wet, Long live weeds and wilderness yet.” It is still wild, and wetter than today the Priest Hopkins could not have wished for. Bar the odd (really odd) hotel there and here, it is wilderness. Pristine unspoilt green wilderness, water gushing down karbonkel hills meeting silver shores of glistening Loch and Lake. Ferns exploding in shades of green under magical ancient trees and silver skies. We have to backtrack on the same route to get us to the southern tip of Loch Lomond so that we can drive up the western shore. We now have a wonderful view from the opposite side of Inversnaid. Hours later we find a quiet spot, on the side of the lake, to tackle our breakfast. Pan toasted bagels with cream cheese and ham, then with mature cheddar from Mull and hickory smoked ham, mine with lashings (love that word because it indicates how much of the stuff I lash on) of Branston Pickle. And tea – the best tea in the world made by HRH. No one can make tea like Victor. Perfect! Our journey continues along Loch Lomond into the Highlands. It mostly pours with rain. Then the sun would burst through the clouds, desperately trying to convince holiday makers that it is actually high summer! The glistening on new green of raindrops, waterfalls cascading over wet rocks and a heavenly brightness last for all of ten minutes before the clouds draw in front of the sun again and it starts pouring. After a number of u-turns (one campsite wanted to charge us 45 pounds for a stand!) we find a campsite on the shores of Loch Linnhe. Literally on the shore overlooking the Loch gently lapsing the shore. Paradise. We set up camp, tackle a gin with elderflower tonic and we are in heaven. A perfect end to a perfect day.