Saturday 8th December

We left Winchester at about 6pm, aiming to get to Lancaster that night. The drive went smoothly until Björn started making a funny whirring noise near Birmingham; a quick google search and phone call to dad suggested that either a) the power steering fluid needed topping up, or b) there was an issue with a belt and we’d have to cancel the trip. Fortunately we’d stopped for fuel anyway, so we picked up some more oil, faffed about putting it in (as the engine is under the seat) and carried on, immensely relieved that the noise had stopped. We arrived near Lancaster around 1.30am.

Sunday 9th December

We left at about 5.30am and headed into Scotland, stopping for a quick nap near Lockerbie. The drive was lovely; the road (A34(M)) was flanked by undulating, bracken-covered hills, and we were surrounded  by majestic wind turbines. Once we reached Glasgow, a brief trip into Asda (as a porridge lover I was delighted by the extent of the oats section) confirmed that we had no desire to spend much time under a roof or around humans, so we drove on to Loch Lomond and the Trossachs National Park.

Having kayaked on Loch Lomond last year, we parked at Arrochar on the northwest bank of Loch Long and headed up a zigzag path through a pine forest towards Ben Ime and the Cobbler, part of the “Arrochar Alps”. The Cobbler is purportedly one of Scotland’s most celebrated mountains, probably because of its distinctive shape – it’s said to resemble a cobbler bending over his work, but I’m not sure I see it. It is impressive though, and I’ve noted for future that it looks great for climbing.

As we broke out of the forest and walked above the treeline, the views were stunning. Despite the winter, there was colour everywhere: the sandy yellow of the rippling grass contrasted with the rich, dark green of the forest, which contrasted with the reddish brown of the mountains, which contrasted with the calm blue-gold sky. The surrounding mountains cast enormous shadows over each other as the setting sun bathed the summits in warm, orange light and glistened on the still surface of Loch Long, and the Cobbler towered dark and dramatic over us. I see why the poets liked Scotland.

Unfortunately we turned round before reaching the Cobbler and Ben Ime’s summit because the light was fading and the car park ticket was running out, but the short (2ish hours) walk was well worthwhile. Back at loch level, we drove north towards Glencoe along the [famously “bonnie, bonnie”] banks of Loch Lomond and through the plains of long valleys shouldered by vast, protective mountains.

We parked for the night in a lay-by at the bottom of Buachaille Etive Mor (although we didn’t realise that until the next morning), apparently the most photographed and one of the most loved mountains in Scotland because of its typical pyramid shape, on the Glen Etive road [photos to follow in my next post].

Then I cooked properly in Björn for the first time ever: a big sausage and veg casserole, enough for 3-4 days’ worth of dinners. It was lovely, and we slept like logs under the most beautiful night sky I’ve ever seen – clearer than clear and black as pitch, scattered with what looked like a hundred million-billion-trillion stars. Despite all the driving, a good first day.