North West Scottish Highlands
Monday evening was pretty much trouble free, apart from a couple of toilet related problems. As I was having an outdoor wee I spotted the man from the Campervan further along the road flying a drone around. I can only assume that it had a camera attached, and therefore may have filmed, and uploaded my entire toilet trip to YouTube. Claire has also, inexplicably, managed to pull a load of muscles in her hand whilst going to the loo. We have both been a few times since without any similar catastrophes but remain wary.
The weather looked more promising today, as it wasn't raining when we woke up, and we could see most of the mountains. After a trip into Lochinver (to use the safe toilet facilities and pick up some bread rolls) and an early lunch, we set off up Quinag.
Quinag is a fairly small hill by Scottish standards (808m), and we were climbing it because it is on our Trail 100 list. We were going to climb it in the fog by the quick and boring route last year, but decided not to as the words of my cousin Phil were ringing in my ears, saying we had to climb it properly.
So we did it the long way, taking the scenic route via the summit of Spidean Coinich, which involved a lot of up and downs before we reached the true summit of Sail Gharbh.
The clouds had lifted, and the sun was shining so the views were stunning. After some photography choreography with the camera timer and standing on the trig point we started the long walk back out to the van.
We both feel like Quinag was a lot bigger than it was, and are glad to be back in the van for a rest.
We stopped in the same spot as last night, and have now managed a full 5 days of not stopping on a campsite (although we did have the cheaters public shower in Torridon).
Wednesday has been a restful day for us. For the first time of the trip we've woken to sunshine, and all the surrounding hills were clear. We drove up the coast road to an amazing little beach at Achmelvich, which had white sand and sheltered waters. We intended to chill out on the beach for a while and then go for a swim in the sea in our wetsuits in preparation for our sea swim in the Pembrokeshire coast triathlon at the end of June.
After a paddle along the shore we quickly decided that there was going to be no sea swimming. The sea was so cold that it hurt and gave my feet cramp. Even Claire was adamant that we weren't going in, so it must have been cold. I am clinging to the hope that the sea in Pembrokeshire will be much warmer on account of it being 500+ miles further south and a month later in the year. We found a sheltered spot to sit on the beach for a couple of hours before heading off, during which time Claire has somehow managed to get sunburnt on her feet, knees, neck and forehead, and now looks like a grumpy lobster.
After the beach we drove round the scenic coast road and then picked up the main road to the metropolis of Ullapool, where we arrived at about 4 pm. We've been shopping, had showers, done the laundry, been to the pub, and had fish and chips for dinner, and are now in George, eating cheese, surrounded by pants and socks hung up to dry in the pop top.
The weather forecast looks fairly promising for the remainder of our trip, and we are hoping to get a few more hills ticked off our list.
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