Vanlife Road Trip - Part 15: West Scotland - Ullapool to Oban (and beyond!)
4 - 23 October 2021
As we left the NC500 at Ullapool we reminisced on our adventures so far and all the places in Scotland we were still to explore - the West Coast of the NC500, and supposedly some of the best driving in Scotland, would have to wait; we had a date with the gang at Oban to get to.
We headed south, stopping to take in the epic mile long canyon, stunning waterfall and rather swingy suspension bridge (apparently me jumping on it was not appreciated!) at Corrieshalloch Gorge National Nature Reserve. George's toe still feeling a little battered, led to a short hobble in flip flops... not the best footwear for slippery gorge walks! The views however, were worth her pain (!) and after a circular stroll we got back in the vans and carried on the pretty road through the gorgeous Ben Wyvis National Nature Reserve; the mountains giving way to dark woodlands and the fast flowing Black Water river running alongside the road, passing through Lochs and tumbling over majestic falls on its way to join the River Conon and on to the Cromarty Firth.
We stopped for the night at the carpark at Rogie Falls. I was going to visit these falls on my way to meet George all those months before but ended up not making it. So, it was great to now have the chance to see these waterfalls and to stroll around the beautiful forests.
Unfortunately, the suspension bridge was closed so access was restricted a little, but by no means did this distract from the scenery and loud crashing of water as it tumbled away down the gorge. In late summer you'll see salmon leap here, but we were too late in the season. This was a great little park up in a Forestry and Land Scotland site, which was included in their overnight parking scheme. Wonderful for a leg stretch on the way towards Inverness.
The next day we carried on to Inverness and down the shores of Loch Ness. I pulled in for a quick tourist snap but no signs of Nessy were to be found. The weather wasn't great, so we pushed on past Fort Augustus and on to Fort William.
Back at Fort William again meant three things; a Morrison shopping trip, coffee at the Highland Soap Company and mountain biking fun!! We returned to our favourite park up, which we like to refer to as our Fort William home, and settled in after a long drive.
October the 6th and it's George's birthday... whoop whoop! I'd hired a bike, booked uplift and bought cakes; so off we headed to Nevis Range for a day of bike adventures. Now, as we were travelling up the mountain on the gondola, George announces that she's never been on a gondola before, and she's not ridden a bike in quite some time. Oh well, best way to throw yourself in to these things is by heading to the top of a Downhill World Cup mountain bike run and ride down the face of the UK's 8th highest peak along a 5km long, leg burning, twisty trail to the bottom! Awesome fun.
It wasn't a fast descent; the steep drop to the side of the trail was a little intimidating for someone just venturing back into mountain biking, but we enjoyed it and reached the bottom pumped and excited for another trail. But first, snacks and very expensive hot chocolates with Baileys to celebrate George's birthday and survival of her first downhill trail.
We spent the rest of the day enjoying the fast flowing trails around the lower slopes of the forest, before calling it a day and heading back to our little park up by the castle via KFC for birthday dinner - I was going to cook a roast, but we were knackered!
The next day we chilled in Fort William as Max had a vet appointment; I did a lot of PJ wearing and eating cake and drinking coffee at my favourite next door neighbours (Highland Soap Company!), and I finally cooked George her roast dinner. It's amazing what you can cook on two gas hobs...
Max all bandaged up, we retraced our steps from weeks earlier and headed south towards Oban for a week of fun and laughter with the gang. The drive down the coast was spectacular, great Lochs to our right and mountain ranges rising high inland to our left. There were views up Loch Leven to Glencoe, the long drive down Loch Linnhe provided glimpses to Lismore and Mull, and kayakers could be seen heading out on adventures to tiny islands and bays.
Finally, we crossed the bridge over Loch Creran, drove through the Barcaldine Forest, and arrived at the Barcaldine Caravan and Camping Club site. Just 12 miles from Oban, this site was out of the way from the main comings and goings of visitors, but provided easy access to Glen Coe, Oban and the main jumping off points for the islands; plus, it was situated right in the forest which offered beautiful walks around the Troll infested woodlands.
After getting settled in and saying ‘hi’ to everyone (I mean, it had been a few weeks since we last saw one another!), we popped out for a stroll around Sutherland's Grove, the woods next to the site. There are lots of lovely waymarked walks within Barcaldine Forest, Sutherland's Grove has three such trails, taking in the towering ancient Douglas fir trees, the babbling burn, great cascading Abhainn Teithil waterfall and deep carved gorge. Spanning the burn by the gorge is a pretty footbridge; but beware, as it is carefully guarded by a Troll.
After some tree hugging and Troll pacifying, we set off to Oban to do a quick grocery shop (HUGE), pick up some dog food and collect our veggie bag from a local organic shop selling off cheap fruit and veg via the 'Too Good To Go' app. Back at site, Heidi had cooked a delicious Bambi stew, so we settled in around the table for good food, delicious wine, and great company.
A few days later after a lot of laundry, a good van clean, some general admin, a trip to Glencoe (stunning walks around the Lochan and wood), and too much food and Farkle; we piled into the cars and headed off to Kerrera.
Kerrera is a small island in the Scottish Inner Hebrides, around 4 miles long and 1.25 miles wide, and just a quick ferry ride from Oban over the Sound of Kerrera. Being so close to the mainland and not huge in size, it is the perfect island for a day’s exploration. There’s a fabulous circular walk of the bottom section of the island, taking you down the southern shore along a gravel track to Gylen Castle, before heading north around Torbhain Mor and back in to Balliemore to the ferry. You can walk the top section of the island as well but on this occasion, we decided to stick to the shorter route.
Alas the little tea rooms were closed, but do keep an eye out for the tea pots on the trail guiding you there! As there was no chance of cake, we stopped for lunch at Port a’Chaisteil bay, sitting on the pebbly beach looking out towards Jura in the far distance. The dogs ran in and out of the cool water and hoovered up any crumbs from our lunches. After a quick press up competition with Lorna, we walked up to the castle to take in the stunning views of the caves and Rubha Seanach, the island’s most southernly tip.
Gylen Castle is a tower house built in the 1500s by the Clan MacDougall, which sits atop a large stony outcrop overlooking the Firth of Lorne. History shows that it wasn’t occupied for long, as it was burnt down in the 1600s during the Wars of the Three Kingdoms. It’s another stunning example of Scottish history and once again has been well preserved and free for all to enjoy. After many photos of each of the dogs peering through the castle’s windows, we returned to the little beach and picked up the track to Ardmore Ford. The island has a very small community, predominantly farmers rearing cattle and sheep, and we passed small farmsteads and stock as we mooched along. The views were stunning as we looked out over craggy hillsides, moorland shrub and tiny sandy bays.
The final section of the walk is quite bleak but still beautiful, and as you descend the final slope back towards the ferry, you find a little blue hut, an old bath full of herbs and plants, and a welcoming sign inviting you to enjoy some local produce from Balliemore Farm. We each indulged in an ice cream from this quaint honesty shop and bought some local lamb before heading to the ferry for our return trip to Oban.
A truly lovely island to explore.
The next day Max was heading back to the vets for a check-up, some of the others were climbing a huge mountain, and the rest chilling locally; so, I hopped on my bike and headed off on a solo adventure to Lismore. The tiny foot ferry sped across the short stretch of water from Port Appin to The Point in the north of Lismore, I was the only passenger and the captain happily chatted away about where to visit on the island and pointed out the seals lounging on the small rocky islands as we crossed.
Lismore, also known as Lios Mòr, means the 'Great Garden' in Gaelic, and it’s easy to see why. I jumped on my bike and set off along a tree lined road that ran alongside the water’s edge past cute houses with views looking across to the mainland and the great peaks of Glencoe and Ben Nevis in the far distance. The land opened up before me as the trees gave way to lush green fields and acres of fertile farmland. A short climb later and I came to a signpost pointing in the direction of the island’s Broch. Through a farm gate and down a short track to Balure, you find the path across the field to this amazing old structure. Tirefour Castle, is an Iron Age Broch well over 2000 years old and still in amazing condition considering its age and the fact it’s been uninhabited since the 12th century. It’s a huge circular structure around 12m in diameter, with over 3m thick walls and would have stood around 15m tall. You can still see the tunnel like passageway that sits between the outer and inner walls, now barred off to stop sheep wandering in!
From the Broch I decided to head along a footpath that followed the shore towards Achnacroish. The first part of the route was fine to ride and took in more gorgeous views and historical landscape; but then I was faced with a whopping great stile that climbed over a pretty dry-stone wall... Hummmm, how to get a heavy eMTB over a stile? I tried climbing over with the bike on my shoulders, but it was too difficult. So, I reverted to lifting the bike gently on to the wall, climbed over the stile and then gently recovered the bike from the wall. Super careful not to damage or disturb the beautiful old wall, the bike and I were over, and I realised why it was a footpath! But we were over and so we ventured on through the fields, along the little single-track route past Loch Baile a’Ghobhainn, through Balnagown and on to the Celtic Cross memorial overlooking Lismore Bay. From here, I rode/pushed/carried my way along the footpath to the pier at Achnacroish, before re-joining the narrow lanes that weaved through the beautiful countryside and tiny hamlets. At the t-junction I turned left heading towards the far end of the island, unsure where I was going to go at this point. I wanted to see Lismore Lighthouse and Achanduin Castle, but each were at different tips of the island. So, I plodded forward under the sun, just enjoying the fresh air and the pretty scenery all around me. I came to another junction signposted to Achanduin, and still I was debating riding to the lighthouse first…but a cute sign attracted me to venture right; so off I went. I whizzed down the lane, looking across Loch Linnhe to the Morvern peninsula and Mull, the light bouncing off the heathery tufts of the hills, turning them copper, and the sun shimmering on the water. Another cute sign appeared, and I decided it would be rude not to investigate further… According to the Sailean Project’s website there would be Highland Coos! The sign said closed, but I thought I’d ride down and just see if I could see a fluffy beast or two.
As I got near the farm’s yard, a gorgeous springer came bounding over to lick me to death and I stopped to pet her. As I looked up from giving her a cuddle, there they were, a small herd of Highland Cattle. Their shaggy coats billowed in the gentle breeze, looking like they had their own personal wind machines to quaff their gorgeous fringes. I was soooooooooo excited! I could hear chatting in the shed, so I popped my head in to say ‘hi’ and ask if I could chat to their coos. I got chatting to Dave, one of the team who lives at and runs the 75-acre croft, about what they did at Sailean, about farming in general and about their gorgeous, happy animals. The croft farms in a unique, yet logical way; using holistic management and regenerative agricultural techniques. This means the animals, soil, plant life and farmers are all working together in as natural a way as possible to raise the healthiest and happiest animals, whilst improving the biodiversity of the land. I was in love with the way the guys did things here and spent the next couple of hours chatting away and petting Boris (the blond-haired coo) and his chums. The views were beyond stunning, and the farm had a relaxed and natural feel; even the guard dog was too chilled for her own good!
I said my goodbyes, vowing to be back, and set back off up the farm track and on towards Achanduin Castle. The lanes continued for another 1.5miles (there appears to be a lot of riding for such a small island!) before I came to the pretty crofting hamlet of Achanduin and the muddy track that would take me to the castle. The track was great fun to ride and once the main farm track ended, I sailed over tufty grass mounds and limestone ridges, following the sheep tracks towards the western cliffs.
After realising the sheep track was about to cause my imminent death (I’m sure the sheep did not descend that cliff!), I paused to take in the view of the lighthouse on its spikey spit to my far left, a pretty bay below with a sandy cove linking Lismore to Bernera ahead, the castle ruins to my right and the Sound of Mull and Mull directly ahead. After choosing a new sheep track to follow, I made it unscathed to the castle. Built by Clan MacDougall in the 13th Century, it became home to the Bishops of Argyll until the mid-16th Century. Although now very much a ruin, it still has signs of its former glory, and the views are certainly worth the long trek or ride in.
I found a rocky perch and took out my packed lunch, all the while being watched by those pesky sheep! After pulling some paper out of my wrap and enjoying my flask of coffee, I decided it was time to start mooching back.
The ride back was just as much fun, and once back on the ‘road’ I whizzed along through the lanes to the Lismore Gaelic Heritage Centre to enjoy a slice of cake – I had been riding, and as we all know riding and cake are the law! The centre is at the heart of Lismore community, and it embraces the heritage and history of the island and the Gaelic language and traditions. On site there is a lovely reconstructed cottar’s cottage, a small museum with informative displays about the history of Lismore’s landscape, industry, agriculture and population; a pretty little shop selling beautiful locally made crafts, and a super yummy café.
I grabbed a table out in the sun and perused the menu to choose my cake of choice, and before I knew what was happening, I had ordered and decimated a bowl of tempura prawns, chips and a large latte! It was amazing!
Time was ticking on and there were 4 miles to the port to catch the ferry back to Port Appin… it was going to be tight. So, I grabbed my bike, waved goodbye to the friendly café and museum folk and pedalled as fast as my little hobbit legs would take me back to the ferry. As I flew into the waiting area, avoiding running anyone over, I could see the boat trundling back over and I’d made it with a minute to spare. Waiting for the boat was Jean, Garth and the Westies; so, we caught up about our equally adventurous days as we pootled back to the mainland and onwards to the campsite.
George and Max were back from the vets, Max was feeling better but still needed to rest, and the boys were excited to see us and had enjoyed their sofa day! We went for a little woodland walk and then all settled in for a BBQ and a night of games and wine…
Lismore was one of the loveliest places I had visited in Scotland on my trip to date and would highly recommend a visit for anyone in the area. I’d like to head back to see the coos, spend some more time at Sailean and maybe do a little more trekking and riding, as there is so much still to see; plus perhaps have that slice of cake!
Big plans were afoot the next day; tickets were booked, cars packed, and sandwiches made.
Oh, talking of sandwiches, you’ll never guess what the paper in my previous days wrap was? A romantic note from George…What sort of idiot puts a note in your food! She’s lucky I didn’t choke! But thank you George for my packed lunch and what I assume was a lovely message!
Anyway! Dogs, humans, and waterproofs were all loaded into the cars, and off to the Oban ferry port we ventured. The crossing to Mull was horrendous… now I really do not have sea legs, I’d have been atrocious in the Navy; I’m far better suited at being on land or in the water, definitely not on it. But we loaded the ferry, settled the dogs and headed up on deck for a warm drink and to watch the world go by. It was super blustery and the deck was a little precarious but it was a better option than trying to cope with the swaying (barf) inside. As we got closer to Mull, Duart Castle came in to view towering over us, and less than an hour later we were docking at Craignure.
The weather was getting progressively worse as we disembarked the ferry; so, we drove around to Duart Castle for a very brief stroll with the dogs before a picnic lunch in the cars. No notes today to choke on!
Duart Castle was the seat of the Clan Maclean for more than 700 years. Built in the 14th Century, it is an imposing site sitting on a crag right on the end of a peninsula, looking as if it may tumble into the Sound of Mull. The castle was undergoing repairs, and as the weather was so horrendous, we decided to continue the drive towards Tobermory at the northern end of the island. The road took us through woodland, moorland and tiny villages, each offering views out over the Sound; before we entered the brightly coloured capital of Mull.
Tobermory is known for its setting for the children’s show Balamory, epic seafood, wildlife and beautiful walks. Despite the weather, we grabbed our kit and set off for a walk through beautiful woodland to Aros Park, with fabulous views out over Tobermory Bay, to Calve Island and Morvern beyond the Sound. We weaved through woodland glades, past fast flowing waterfalls and around Lochan a’ Ghurrabain. No seal or otter sightings today, but a lovely walk and plenty to see and enjoy. We headed back on the top path around the Lochan and then rejoined the route we had ventured in on. Back in Tobermory shops were closing up for the day and we decided to get some fish and chips and make use of the super handy shelter and benches on the front.
It was time to mooch back towards the ferry port, so off we toddled, via a wee stop or two (!) and waited for the next ferry to arrive. It was dark on the crossing back, so we chilled inside on the sofas and I read everyone an enticing story about a magical water horse!
Despite it being late on arriving back, we decided gin was the only real answer to finish another lovely day out.
We waved goodbye to Lorna and Martin the next morning and the rest of us headed out for another road trip; this time to Seil. To get to Seil you need to cross the Atlantic! Well, you drive over Clachan Bridge, an old stone humpback bridge built in 1792 that crosses the Clachan Sound which connects at both ends to the Atlantic Ocean. Once over the bridge, you are on Seil Island; one of the ‘slate’ islands known for its Neoproterozoic slate beds, which were quarried from the 18th to the 20th Century. Today it’s a quiet and tranquil place, with friendly locals, great food, and stunning views.
The main reason though that I wanted to visit Seil, was to swim in the old quarries on Easdale Island, which is only accessible via a foot ferry from Seil. So, after an amazing lunch of mussels and oysters, George and I donned our wetsuits (reportedly the quarries were very cold), hoped on the little ferry with a set of drums (you just never know what you’ll be on a ferry with in the Scottish Islands!), and caught up with the others on Easdale.
Easdale, like Seil, was traditionally quarried for its slate, and as such there are now a series of deep sea filled pools with turquoise blue water just begging to be swam in. It’s also famous though as the host of the annual World Stone Skimming Championships… nope, I could only manage 4 skims! The island houses rows of quaint little miners’ cottages which surround a green near the port, the lively community hub advertises bands and events a plenty to be held over the coming weeks and there’s even a small museum to explore; and wheelbarrows line the harbour wall, so each cottage has their own mode of transport to move their shopping, belongings and rubbish around on this vehicle free island. Some cottages have chickens and rabbits outside the front doors, others little bistro tables to sit and enjoy the simple pleasures of this gorgeous community.
We strolled towards the pool we were planning to swim in and came across the others who had been enjoying mooching around the little paths that weave throughout the old quarries. There’s a climb up to the highest point on the island, so we strolled up there to admire the epic 360 degree views that stretched out over Mull, Jura and back to the mainland.
After building up a sweat climbing the hill in wetsuits and Dryrobes, I was desperate to get in the water though… We found a pool that looked appealing and in we went. I was glad of the wetsuit as you could feel the cold-water seeping in, and as the pool was so deep it was unlikely to ever warm up! There is another pool favoured by wild swimmers, that is shallower and does heat up a little in the sun, but this pool was large and allowed us to swim around before clambering up the cliffs to jump back into the inky depths. After a good swim and play, we climbed out, grabbed our robes and headed back to the ferry and onwards to Seil, the cars and Oban.
It was our final morning on site, so we packed up, said goodbye to Jean and Garth, and moved the van to the woodlands next door... Once settled in to our new home, we grabbed the dogs and set off along the lovely off road cycle and walking route towards Creagan. Shortly after arriving Heidi and Andy arrived and we enjoyed a delicious lunch overlooking Loch Creran. We thought we’d spotted an otter, but alas it was just a seal pup frolicking in the Loch for its lunch.
We strolled back together to Sutherland Grove, where we said our goodbyes, and settled down for the night.
Oh, I mustn’t forget… I FINALLY saw a red squirrel!!!! Yippee!!!!
It was really peaceful in the woods and we stayed two nights before moving a short distance up the road to Glasdrum Wood National Nature Reserve. There’s a lovely short circular walk through these ancient woods which are bursting with life. It is full of tiny trickling falls, pretty footbridges, towering oak and ash trees, mossy rocks, wildflowers and beautiful views of the Loch and Creach Bheinn. The light filtering through the tress is stunning and you can hear nothing but the gentle gurgling of the stream and the birds singing their happy chorus.
Later in the day we strolled across the road to the Loch shores, searched for otter presence and decided as the tide was in, we may as well have a dip. The water was fresh but not cold like the quarries, and we swam for a while close to the shore. We didn’t explore further into the Loch as it’s tidal and at low tide we had seen a lot of debris in one of the channels. Back at the van we got dry and warm and settled in for the night, looking out at the most amazing night sky. Still no otters though!
Max was due back in Fort William for his check up, so we popped to the vets, before hiring George an electric MTB for the next day. We spent the night back at the North Face carpark, and the next morning headed out into the woods to hit the trails at Nevis Range again. The weather was a bit rough, and winds were high, so the gondola wasn’t running. We chilled on the flowy blues, before tackling a few techy sections of the Top Chief red run. We whizzed along the fun Broomstick Blue back to the vans for lunch and to walk the dogs, before we resumed our afternoon of shredding on Top Chief (new favourite run), a cheeky hot chocolate stop, and then the World Champs run, before a very nervous long ride back to the vans with hardly any battery left! Another awesome day at this fabulous trail centre, chatting to lovely people, getting muddy and grinning a lot.
After dropping the bike back, we moved to our now infamous park up at Inverlochy Castle (home of the Highland Soap Company you know!) and had an early night. The next day the mountains were capped in snow, the air temperature had certainly dropped, and as George was busy editing videos, I thought it would be rude not to go have coffee and cake at the café!
We were on our last two days in Scotland. The end of our epic adventures was looming and we didn’t want to leave this country we had fallen in love with. But money was getting low, we had appointments to keep and jobs to get to…
Before leaving though, there was time for one more waterfall… We drove around to Neptune’s Staircase for a short leg stretch before heading along the Caledonian Canal to Gairlochy and the shores of Loch Lochy. From here were turned left through Mìle Dorcha, a stunning woodland stretch of road, to the Eas Chia-aig waterfalls; also known as the Witch’s Cauldron. This series of tumbling falls, crash over large rocks, through the steep woodland to a pool besides the narrow stone road bridge that crosses the Abhainn Chia-aig on its way to Loch Arkaig. The falls are just breath-taking, and we clambered up the path that follows their course above, before strolling a short way up into the woods, before descending back to the bridge and on to the Loch. We were desperate to get in the deep pool, but after a spate of rain, we decided the falls were too dangerous for swimming in at this time and with a heavy heart, we climbed back into the vans vowing to return in the summer months. Despite not being able to swim, the walk and drive were totally worth it; the narrow lanes skirted the most stunning views over the Loch Lochy and the River Lochy, and you could still see Ben Nevis towering in the distance; its snowy hat starting to melt in the sun.
We stopped off at the Commando Memorial near Spean Bridge; a wonderful setting for this tribute to the men of the Royal Marine Commandos who have fought and died for our country throughout the years and many conflicts. The memorial’s plaque reads, "In memory of the officers and men of the commandos who died in the Second World War 1939–1945. This country was their training ground."
We will remember them
It was time to head south, so on we pressed to Glen Etive. Glen Etive was magical the first time around; this time was even better… the light on the mountains was magical and as we drove down the narrow pass, kayakers were enjoying the river in full spate and the many drops and white water that was flowing. We parked up (much quieter in October!) and walked along the river watching the brightly coloured boats descending the rapids and enjoyed the colours of the ferns, fells and water under the beautiful sunlight. Dinner was served al fresco on the deck; the wood burner was lit and all we could hear was the sound of the river coursing below.
After a very lazy start and backing out of a swim; we packed the vans up and prepared to say goodbye to our last Scottish park up. Halfway up the Glen I pulled over… No, it was no good, we needed to swim one more time!
So, cossies and Dryrobes on, we plodded down to the river to a lovely pool below a short waterfall. We watched the kayakers drop into the pool one by one, each yipping a happy call as they set off down the river. We climbed in swam for a while before George got out as it was very cold. But despite the cold I wanted to stay in for a while longer; so I swam quietly and mindfully up to the falls and around the pool; just being in the moment.
This final swim, in a location that held such magical memories, made me reflect on the experiences we'd shared and the amazing places our little trip had taken us.
The cold water allowed my mind to be still, and my emotions to settle; just to be quiet, alone with my thoughts and nature.
The perfect end to the perfect trip…
As always, thank you so much for reading and joining me, albeit virtually, on my adventures. I really hope you've enjoyed my tales of Scotland. It really was the most amazing adventure; and thank you all for being a part of it...
Next time, I'll be heading back to Devon but not without one or two last hurrahs!
To watch the craziness in video form; please check out George's YouTube: 2born2travel - YouTube
Ullapool to Fort William: Ullapool to Fort William || MTB BEN NEVIS - YouTube
Oban and Fort William Adventures: CLIFF JUMPING HERE..................... Easdale Island Quarry Pools - YouTube
Leaving Scotland: GOODBYE SCOTLAND || Our Last Scottish Wild Swim - YouTube
Comments