Sail Away #changeofscene #funfriendsfogfringe #sailinginBrittany

And all of a sudden it was the end. Which meant it was mid-August, which meant a day at the Fringe:

A day with the other cousins in their awesome local park:

And it wouldn't be a good trip to Stirling without a walk up the Wallace Monument #reinforce that Scottish history:

And then it really was all over. Which for a child in the summer holidays basically means that we change country

And once again there were more beaches, but this time in western Brittany.

And more kiddies to play with (role taken by Thomas and Samuel, Nandi's two boys):

Plus a fab new swing in the garden:

And the second week was all about the sailing school. All summer long a sailing school runs at the beach one along from ours. Unfortunately on the first morning it was foggy (first time I've ever seen that here) but by the afternoon it was clear, and the other mornings were apparently warm enough that Small Fry didn't cry when he fell in to the water transferring from a sailing boat to a zodiac. 

First day nerves (and holding mum's hand)

Low tide and fog

They tried kayaking, sailing, motor boating, and learnt about fishing with rods, nets and pots (for lobsters). He had an absolutely whale of a time and it seems like we have found our Summer-in-Brittany activity! Aye Aye Cap'n.

And finally, Mamie's 83rd birthday:

Getting (a lot of) help blowing out her candle

And then the big city beckoned us again.

Mountains Beyond Mountains #Roadtrip #Campervan #NorthCoast500

"And I could walk 500 miles, 

And I could walk 500 more, 

Just to be the man who walked a thousand miles 

To fall down at your door"

Ah, it's an iconic Scottish song by The Proclaimers, and for sure if you'd walked a thousand miles you'd be falling down at someone's door, and havering, and all the rest of it.

But if you're willing to give it a go, there is a 500-mile route around the north of Scotland called the North Coast 500. You could walk it if you wanted to, but we decided to drive it. With a campervan. And not even the whole lot (we only had 5 days).

But as we were starting from Inverness anyway, it seemed a natural holiday route to follow. We skipped the north-east coast as we were told it was boring compared to the West, and made our first night's camp at Gairloch, in Wester Ross.

We stayed in quite a large campsite that felt small, right on the beach and about as close to wild camping as you can get while still having 4-star shower (hot!) and dish-washing (inside!) facilities. Plus we took a pitch right at the top and had a view over the dunes out to sea. 

And that beach required exploring. So we dressed up Scottish style (jackets, hats, wellies) and set off into the wind and setting sun.

Breakfast the next morning

On our way north the next day we deliberately stopped off by Loch Assynt in Sutherland, a place I'd wanted to see since my dad gave me At the Loch of the Green Corrie, by Andrew Grieg. We had lunch by the ruined Ardvreck Castle on the Loch, which dates from the 16th century and is thought to have been constructed by the Clan MacLeod family. 

The west coat from there up to Durness on the north coast is stunning, particularly in sunny weather, which we had the whole week. Durness campsite itself is nothing to write home about, but it is a short walk from Smoo Beach, which was wonderful. So good in fact, that Small Fry developed tonsillitis after paddling in the frigid waters. 

Only 3500km to the north pole 

The beach. The water was about 8 degrees but the kids paddled for ages and people were even swimming (presumably hard enough to not get tonsillitis afterwards)

Our campervan was hired through Big Tree Campervans and the kids loved it. The kids slept upstairs and we slept downstairs, we did all our cooking in there, we had a massive awning to stay warm, dry and midge-free while camped, an electric hook-up, and it was super easy to drive (automatic, and didn't feel too big or heavy). 

Breakfast in the awning

But sometimes you just need someone else to make you a cup of tea.

On our third day we travelled along the north coast and saw some amazing scenery - long desolate rolling hills, long sandy beaches, little inlets, tumbling waterfalls, sheep and cows, and glens, trees, cliffs and incredible views, before cutting inland at Melvich, which is where the rain started.

Which was kind of fitting as we were headed for Forsinard Flows, a 100km2 nature reserve and visitor centre run by the RSPB. Forsinard is in the Flow Country, a large rolling expanse of peatland and wetland in Caithness, It is the largest expanse of blanket bog in Europe and is home to a rich variety of wildlife and is used as a breeding ground for many different species of birds.

The Flow Country was badly damaged between 1979 and 1987 through the planting of non-native conifer forests and the cutting of thousands of miles of drains. The trees dried out the peat, changing the habitat. The RSPB has now bought more than 20km2 back from the Forestry Commission and the young trees felled and allowed to rot in the hope that the land will revert to peat bog. 

The rain stopped long enough to walk the mile out over the peat bog on specially constructed stilts to the wildlife viewing platform. The local midgie wildlife certainly saw us and poor El Puma was in shorts. He lives to tell the tale but his legs....oh dear.

Standing still for only a second 

Our campsite that night was at Brora, on the east coast of Scotland - a lovely little secluded and sheltered site just a golf course away from the beach. Having braved the flying golf balls, we spent a lovely morning collecting shells, and in Small Fry's case, parts of stinky crab claws.

Our last day was spent around the Cairngorms, with lunch at Glen Morlich beside Aviemore, a very popular and touristy area. It's a beautiful loch (people swimming again!!) but pretty busy with people doing water sports. But the ice-cream was apparently worth it.

We stayed down the road (A9) at the much quieter and more stunning Invernahavon caravan site in Glen Turlich. The site was virtually empty, sheltered and beautiful with excellent facilities. We practically had a field to ourselves and it was a total sun trap with little wind and zero midges. We sat outside for most of the evening, El Puma with a glass of wine in his hand (even while he played football with the kids)...and woke up to yet more beautiful sunshine.

Over the past few months I've driven the notorious A9 more often than, well, ever before, but it's been years and years and years since we stopped at any of the sites situated just off it: Killiecrankie, the Hermit's cave, Birnam and Dunkeld...so this time we decided to check out the Falls of Bruar, near Blair Atholl. It was a short but steep 20 minute walk up to the Lower Bridge and a view of the falls, and a longer and flatter stroll through the massive House of Bruar shopping centre that has been built near the flat part of the river. Thumbs up for the falls, but massively down for the commercialisation of the whole thing. Next time: back to the childhood sites. 

Kinclaven is a really peaceful and beautiful part of Perth & Kinross, and it's fitting that 3 generations of my ancestors are buried there. Although it's sad to visit, and although I believe that only there mortal remains are buried there, it's a calm and sunny site, and that somehow helps.

Alongside Christina's bridal bouquet that had already been left, plus flowers from Uncle Gilbert and Auntie Rose, we placed Ailsa's flower girl bouquet at my dad's grave, beside the new tablet.

Views from the Church across the countryside

And because it was still a holiday for the children, and I needed to celebrate life, we stopped at Stewart Tower Dairy for ice-cream and baby goat watching.

We've been here a month, we've caught up with so many people, we enjoyed a wonderful, wonderful wedding, and had a fantastic holiday in a campervan, and yet it still feels like it hasn't been long enough. That's got to be the definition of a great summer holiday.

Thanks everyone!