Longwick

 

Thirty-eight days ago, we left home bound for Scotland. We did not know what lay ahead of us. The guide books show you all the interest and beauty of a region, but the real-life experience takes you above and beyond. We have covered 2,831 miles, experienced highs and lows, tears and fears, and enjoyed spectacular views and landscapes.

There's been drama and excitement, thrills and hills, (remember driving Bealach Na Ba Marge, after two days of nerves building up to it). We loved visiting Scotland, but know we barely scratched the surface, so we plan to return, after all, there are still the islands to visit, and of course we want to return to Skye.

As for Marge, she says, it's been a blast! Good, because we will be off to Dorset for a few days soon, and of course you'll be coming with us, and we hope all her followers will come along as well. 

For now, Marge is parked on home turf, beside the Virginia creeper that was green and fresh when we left, now fiery red, gold and yellow, a sure sign it's autumn.

Chester

A cool damp start at Kendal this morning. For 

Angela it was a hurrah, no handwashing of underwear to do before we left, soon something called a washing machine would be at her disposal. Most of our drive this morning was on the M6, after so many miles on small interesting roads it seemed a bit of a bore. But not to Marge, she was more than happy cruising along. We stopped at Warrington, (the least exciting town in England), for John to buy trousers at Decathlon, but they only had a size smaller than he normally takes and were a little compromising. 

Our destination Chester, where we stayed on the way up, we were saddened that this time we couldn't visit John's daughter because of a local lockdown.

There are not so many vans here as five weeks ago when we stayed. We walked into the city, along some of the old Roman red sandstone city walls, and took a look at the outside of the cathedral.

By six o' clock the centre was becoming busy with young women, all keen to get in four hours of drinking before the bars closed at 10 pm. Today has been the coolest since we left home, but the young women of Chester are tough, dressed for a balmy summers evening with barely a stitch on. 

John lived in Chester as a teenager after leaving home, and spotted a shop (which many years ago sold jeans and tee shirts) he worked in part time on Saturdays whilst training to ba a Radio Technician at a local RAF Station. 

Our last supper in Marge tonight was tinged with a little sadness, if we could have taken her abroad, we would be away for another four weeks at least. But we must return her home tomorrow, as there are jobs waiting for us. We are grateful that despite Covid that we've been able to take Marge on yet another journey. Travelling opens your mind, makes you aware of an energy, that makes you aware at that present moment in time. We love being in Marge, life always seems so much simpler. What do you think Marge, shall we just keep driving?      

Kendal

Yesterday evening we had a really fantastic meal in the Sun Inn. John's late father gave us some money last Christmas which we put in to our Marge fund.

Time to treat ourselves we thought, and raise a glass to him. 

This morning after some rain during the night, the sun shone, picking out the autumn leaves of reds, russets and rust in the nearby trees. Before we left the lake district, we wanted to return to Glenridding, where we have camped a couple of times in the past. Because the bridge was being repaired, we had to drive the long way around. Glenridding was busy, the warm dry weather bringing people out. The mountains clearer than we'd ever seen them were enhanced by a vibrant blue sky. Around six years ago, Angela had bought a pair of walking shoes in the outdoor shop here, and has worn them so much the tread had worn away. We were pleased to see that the outdoor shop was still open and went in for a replacement pair, sadly they no longer sold exactly the same shoe, but the alternative ones were just as good. Happy, we left with new walking shoes, hopefully to last for many years. Then we bought pies from the grocers for our lunch, packed a rucksack and set off to walk up Helvellyn, height 950 metres.

Tackling the steep sides, crossing mountain streams, stopping to look at inquisitive sheep we felt invigorated. The views back to Glenridding were stunning. But we have cannot lie, we didn't walk to the top, just a third of the way. But we did cross mountain streams and speak to sheep and take in stunning views. By the time we'd returned to Marge the weather had begun to change, cloud skimmed the top of the mountains and the rain fell lightly. 

Next stop Ambleside, a short jaunt over the Kirkstone Pass, at 454 metres. Marge and Angela weren't prepared mentally, but hey after travelling over the Bealach Na Ba in the Scottish Highlands, 626 metres, how bad could it be. Bad enough. Outside many churches there are banners saying Try Praying, so Marge did, and for a change luck was on our side, all the way up in third gear, meeting downward traffic just the right time near a passing place. Stopping at the top at the Kirkstone Inn, we lifted Marge's bonnet, she seemed a little warm, and so did Angela. Now for the downward journey. Near to Ambleside, the forever helpful lady who gives us directions told us to take a sharp turn right, which we did, until Marge pulled up. No way am I, 2.2 metres wide, we are not going down there, reverse!  Ambleside was also busy. John bought a jacket in one of the outdoor shops and then it was destination Kendal.

Tonight, Marge and her mates have a lovely view of the beautifully maintained cricket crease at Kendal Cricket Club. It is five pounds to stay here in a van overnight. We wanted to stay on our way up, but there was a match on so it wasn't possible. Our legs still not tired from walking we sauntered in to the town.

The shops a nice mix of high street names and independents. We were pleased to see that the town was thriving, with only one empty unit. Since we left home John has been hankering for a Chinese take-away. Sadly, the Scots seem to not be a fan, but fortunately the Cumbrians are. So, another night off cooking for Angela.

Tomorrow we will head to Chester, sadly nearly home now Marge.

Pooley Bridge

We were glad we moved Marge from under the oak trees yesterday evening as this morning we could hear the acorns falling on the other vans like a round of bullets being fired.

A slow start to the day, washing some clothes, showering, cleaning out Marge and filling her water tank, all jobs that needed doing before setting off. Our Scottish guide books no longer required, we packed them away and left for England. On route we talked of our favourite places in Scotland and both agreed the Isle of Skye was top of the list, and that we would return there again one day. Soon we were on the M6, a little daunting after travelling the 'slow road' for so long. Marge, we're proud of you, all those narrow roads and pinch points, you handled them well. Eleanor Roosevelt said, 'women are like tea bags, you don't know how strong they are until you put them in hot water', which we tend to do quite regularly with Marge.

Our destination today was Pooley Bridge in the Lake District, where we found a parking area for ten pounds a night, before paying, we noticed a campervan in a nearby pub car park, and after enquiring, yes Marge could stay if we used the pub. So, we booked a table for seven o' clock in the restaurant. Better ten pounds spent towards a meal we thought.

A walk out took us to Pooley bridge, which collapsed in December 2015 as a result of storm Desmond causing the river Eamont to flood. A major rebuild is being undertaken and the new bridge is looking very smart.

We walked along the road a little to take a look at lake Ullswater, and then returned through the woods from where we could see Marge happily nestled in the corner of the pub car park.

In the past we have canoed and sailed on the lake, so our visit here has brought back some memories. Tomorrow we will head to Ambleside, so it looks like another overnight stay in the lakes Marge.

Caerlaverock Castle

Today has been a rubbish day, hasn't it, Marge? At one o' clock this morning some youngsters parked near the vans and blared out bassy music for over an hour. It was all a little unnerving, because you never know what will occur. So, a restless night.

We left Largs by eleven o' clock, driving along the seafront to see the statue of the Viking, complete with face mask. It looked good, but sadly we couldn't take a photograph as the town wasn't very campervan friendly, and we couldn't park because of restrictions and height barriers.

Goodbye Largs, thanks, but no thanks.

Angela had read that the drive through the Galloway Forest Park was nice so we headed that way.

Nice, no said Marge, a bit of a bore, miles and miles of pine trees and desolate landscape. A site we'd chosen to overnight was in the middle of nowhere, after last night it was a no.

So, we decided better the devil you know, and drove quite a bit further on to the site we stayed at on our fourth night away near Caerlaverock Castle. 

All settled, not under the oak trees this time, as Marge doesn't want a headache from the acorns which are dropping a little too regularly. We were surprised at just how different the outlook from the site is. 

You can now see through the bushes towards the Solway Firth. A carpet of fallen leaves covers the footpath to the castle. It's amazing to think that since we were last here, we have been right around the north coast of Scotland, all that excitement lay before us when we were here last. Not sure if Marge would class it all as exciting, especially the tight spots.  

Not every day can be a good day, we've been lucky these last few weeks that most of them have. Tomorrow we will cross the border back into England and will return to the Lake District, destination, Pooley Bridge.

Largs

 

This morning we saw nature in all her glory. Not bad for a Monday morning, hey Marge. Caught by the sun, the water of the loch looked metallic in the morning light.

Eating breakfast, in no hurry to leave, we watched numerous people walk by carrying rucksacks, off to walk Ben Lomond, which rises from the eastern shore of Loch Lomond to 974 metres. We followed in their footsteps, but not to Ben Lomond, but to Cashel bay. We walked for two hours along the edge of the loch through the trees and back along the road.

We saw the blue green algae blooms on the water's edge, there were several notices warning of its health risk.

In the woodland, fungi were abundant. It was a beautiful walk, on a beautiful sunny morning. 

Mid-afternoon after a quick shower in Marge and lunch sat down by the loch we left for Glasgow. If this was our last time near a Scottish Loch then we didn't mind, we had left on a high. The traffic around Glasgow was busy, and Marge was happy once we'd passed through and once again, she found herself in the countryside, and even more so being back at the coast. 

Largs is on the west coast of Scotland. We are parked right opposite Great Cumbrae Island. Marge can watch the car ferry travel back and forth from the mainland to the island. After a long walk this morning, we just walked to the Pencil monument, erected to celebrate the Scottish victory in the battle of Largs in 1263. The town has connections with the Vikings, and every year, (probably not this year), a Viking festival is held in early September. Tomorrow, if the forecast rain is not too heavy, we will walk along the seafront to the town.