Back from our amazing adventure in Morocco, we wasted no time before diving headfirst into planning our next escapade! The excitement was palpable as we considered all the incredible destinations awaiting us - Portugal, the Baltics, the Balkans, Greece, Tunisia, and Brittany - but our hearts led us back to the enchanting Scotland! Fully aware of the weather challenges that might come our way, we fearlessly embarked on coordinating our travel plans alongside our professional duties.
Thanks to my frequent business trips, we brilliantly synchronized a work assignment with our journey up north! Juggling limited vacation days and household responsibilities, we miraculously carved out a glorious 17-day window for our travel extravaganza, complete with essential stops along the way. As we packed our bags on a thrilling Friday night, we eagerly hit the road on Saturday morning, beginning our adventure towards Zürich via the highway. Despite a bit of traffic, we decided to take the scenic route, meandering through the picturesque landscapes of Kanton Aargau, Entlebuch, and Emmental. The rolling hills were cloaked in lush greenery, while the cows grazed peacefully in the sun-drenched pastures, all set against a sky of the purest blue. It was as if we had conjured up the perfect weather ourselves!
Our initial destination was a quaint house situated atop the Diemtig Valley, near Lake Thun. There, we convened with the board members of the Land Rovers of Switzerland Club. We also had the pleasure of hosting a Danish family that weekend, who were embarking on a Eurotrip in their Defender with two children.
Following an extensive meeting regarding the annual program, the club's general assembly, and the objectives of our gatherings, we indulged in a lengthy dinner accompanied by breathtaking views of the valley and a sunset that could only be described as straight from a travel brochure. Conversations about travel experiences, differentials, gearboxes, rust, and other Land Rover-related subjects continued late into the night, and we eventually retired to our vehicle shortly after midnight.
The next morning was filled with excitement as we anticipated the warm weather ahead. We joyfully retraced our steps to the house, where we indulged in a scrumptious breakfast. With our belongings packed, we were all set to kick off our journey northward towards the enchanting destinations of Germany and France. As we hit the road, the thrill was palpable! Despite encountering some traffic near Bern, we seized the opportunity to take the scenic Passwang route to Basel, adding an extra dash of adventure to our trip. Our trusty Defender faced a minor hiccup with overheating, but we tackled it head-on, just like the resilient travelers we are. After a quick pit stop, we were back on the road, cruising at 100 km/h towards Bitburg, passing by the charming city of Strasbourg along the way. By late afternoon, we arrived in the breathtaking Eifel region, where we parked our vehicle and checked into the cozy Eifelbräu hotel. Even though this journey was part of our business travel, we made the most of every moment! The next day, brimming with energy, I set off for work bright and early, while Flower savored some extra moments of relaxation in the hotel room before treating herself to a delightful early lunch at the hotel restaurant.
The meetings proceeded smoothly, and due to our efficiency, we set out on a scenic route through the Eifel at 2:00 PM, making occasional stops to appreciate the breathtaking landscape. Our first stop was at the banks of the Urft River, located in a former military camp, however, the temperatures exceeding 30 degrees and our fatigue dissuaded us from taking a stroll in the park. We continued on to the Rur River, where we encountered a distinctly German situation: swimming was prohibited on one side of the fence, with a hefty fine of 5000 EUR, while on the other side, people freely enjoyed swimming in the public area of the Rur. We took some time to relax, listening to the tales of retired tourists before heading towards Simmenrath to purchase supplies. After passing through Aachen, we finally arrived in Venlo, where we stayed at a charming hotel named Maashof. The hotel grounds featured several fishponds and a spacious park, while the restaurant terrace offered stunning views and excellent service. We were fortunate to secure a room equipped with air conditioning.
The following morning, I departed for work once again at an early hour and returned in the afternoon. We assembled our equipment under the intense heat and took the highway heading east towards Nuenen, the birthplace of Vincent van Gogh. Arriving four hours ahead of our scheduled meeting with the Land Rover Delegation of Holland, we initially sought out a nearby forest to relax and unwind. As the heat became increasingly oppressive, we decided to locate a small lake for a refreshing swim. It was evident that we were not the only ones with this idea; however, we managed to find parking right at the entrance and soon joined a multitude of children, adults, dogs, and other creatures in the cool water.
After a brief shower beside the car, we proceeded to the residence of Patrick, the President of the Offroad Committee of the Land Rover Holland club. We received a warm welcome, complete with beers, snacks, and engaging conversations, before heading out for dinner at a local snackbar. The evening was spent enjoying the company of two couples, sharing travel anecdotes, discussing future plans, and arranging for their visit to Switzerland in 2025 with a convoy of 50 vehicles.
We camped in front of their home, taking advantage of their shower and toilet facilities, and departed eastward towards Rotterdam after breakfast. Our ferry was scheduled to leave from Hook of Holland, where we arrived three hours in advance. We utilized this time to explore the surrounding area, grab a quick sandwich, and take a leisurely stroll along the beautiful beach. Just in time, we approached the immigration booth and checked in for the ferry. The boarding process was efficient, and shortly after, we departed the port of Hook, setting sail across the Channel.
Upon our arrival in Harwich, we noticed a significant drop in temperature, accompanied by an accumulation of clouds overhead. As we disembarked, light raindrops began to fall, prompting us to remind ourselves to adhere to driving on the left side of the road. Shortly thereafter, we refueled at a British Petroleum station near Colchester before proceeding to our pre-booked campsite in Polestead. This quintessentially British camping site featured verdant lawns, numerous warning signs, and predominantly local campers. We prepared a modest dinner, utilized the washing machine, and soon retired for the night, lulled to sleep by the gentle patter of rain on the roof.
The following morning greeted us with bright sunshine, albeit with a noticeable chill in the air. We donned our sweatshirts and, after breakfast, packed up our campsite to head to L.O.F. Clutches. They had sent us two MT82 drive shafts, neither of which were compatible. Prior to our journey, we had intended to install an Ashcroft unit due to a manufacturing defect. The L.O.F. Clutches facility, a small workshop located in Shepshed, facilitated our return of the two drive shafts in exchange for a clutch. They assured us that the refund would be processed "next week." Ultimately, we received the refund approximately three weeks later, following several email correspondences.
I was familiar with the Derbyshire Dales from a rally we participated in back in 2014, and I was eager to traverse those same roads once more. Despite the onset of rain, we opted for a scenic route through the countryside, passing Derby, and discovered a charming pub in Shirley renowned for its pies. Flower chose the pie, while I selected the entrecôte. The meal was exceptional, and after indulging in a generous serving of fries with mayonnaise, it provided a delightful change of flavor.
Following our lunch, we opted to traverse the picturesque landscape en route to Buxton, intending to engage in a brief exploration of the historic town. However, just prior to our arrival, we were met with heavy rainfall, prompting us to abandon our plans. As we navigated through magnificent forests, rolling hills, and awe-inspiring roads, we departed the park and took the highway around Manchester amidst the downpour. Armed with an audiobook and robust coffee, we sought to alleviate the monotony of the journey and decided to stop in Beetham for some aerial photography and to later explore the Lake District. Upon reaching Windermere, we refueled the Land Rover and ventured into the charming town on foot. Although it was a popular tourist destination, the sun shone brightly, and the brisk wind greeted us with the promise of a new summer—one reminiscent of Scotland.
Continuing our journey along narrow and breathtaking roads, we ascended to Kirkstone Pass, where we set up camp at the summit, alongside an Ambulance Land Rover, several VW vans, and Paul Dunn, who arrived shortly thereafter. Now retired, Paul resides in an apartment but travels in his bus, capturing stunning landscape photographs and timelapses while visiting his daughter from time to time. We exchanged Facebook contacts and enjoyed a fondue dinner together.
The following morning was characterized by cold, rainy weather that discouraged any inclination to walk or travel. We captured several drone shots and proceeded along the access road leading to Ullswater Lake. A group of tourists engaged in kayaking and stand-up paddling on the lake, while we experienced a brief shower by the roadside. The weather had improved slightly compared to the previous day, and in a positive mood, we continued our journey northward towards Carlisle. The atmosphere was foggy and overcast, compelling us to return to the highway. We made good progress and reached a Shell service station southeast of Glasgow, where we replenished our water supplies. Our decision was to camp at Loch Lomond, renowned as Scotland's most photographed loch. Navigating through traffic in Glasgow, we eventually left Balloch, only to encounter significant congestion on the road along the loch, predominantly in the southbound direction. In high spirits, we explored potential campsites listed on iOverlander, only to discover considerable litter and that nearby campers were improperly disposing of their waste. The weather remained dreary, with rain and wind contributing to an uninviting atmosphere, compounded by the noise of heavy traffic behind us. Consequently, we opted to continue northward and found a pleasant location in Ardgartan, where we parked, set up the Starlink, and settled in for the night. For dinner, we prepared "Älpler Maccrons," enjoyed a pipe, and contemplated our future plans amidst the persistent rain. Back home, the temperature was still a warm 30 degrees, while we donned our winter jackets in the cold, foggy conditions.
The subsequent morning, Flower was not in a favorable mood. She expressed disinterest in filming or enjoying the journey, appearing irritable and dissatisfied with everything, seemingly affected by the weather. She voiced her frustration about our daily driving without sufficient breaks to rest or explore. I chose to disregard her comments and emotional fluctuations as we drove towards Archadunan, where I launched the drone to capture footage while she remained sulky in the car. Once the footage was secured, we proceeded to Inveraray in search of a restroom. We located one in a charming hotel and decided to relax in the pub, enjoying a shanty while we discussed our plans for the journey ahead. We stroll through the castle park, explore the coastal shores, capture photographs, and she even begins filming. Flower has returned, enhancing the day's potential for enjoyment.
Rather than proceeding directly to the ferry in Kennacraig, we opt for a diversion to Oban. We park the vehicle and take the opportunity to explore the pier, local dining establishments, and various shops. The town is bustling with visitors, including tourists and travelers preparing to board ferries to the islands. We order chicken fingers and beers before continuing southward for another session of drone filming, despite the inclement weather.
Amidst strong winds, fog, clouds, and rain, we make our way south and eventually arrive in Kennacraig, where we find Patrick asleep in his Audi (his Defender had encountered a mechanical issue). We attempted to rouse him by tapping on the window, shaking the car, or making noise, but he remained deeply asleep.
When the ferry arrived and it was time to board, we resorted to calling him via WhatsApp, which finally stirred him awake. We exchanged stories about our travels, and he shared his experiences as we boarded the Finnlagan ferry. This was the same vessel we had taken seven years prior, and it remained in good condition. We ordered a selection of Islay beers and spent the 90-minute journey on the ferry planning our stay on Islay. I had always wanted to visit the Bunnhabain distillery, and we intended to deliver some beers to Adam Hannet, the head distiller at Laddie. Beyond that, our plans were rather limited.
Upon our arrival in Port Askaig under the cover of darkness, we proceeded towards Bowmore. The sole restaurant available was a rather unappealing food station operated by a couple of Indian individuals. The culinary offerings posed a challenge, yet they provided necessary sustenance. We opted to camp at Port Mor and navigated through the thick, dark fog of the night across the intriguing island. Upon reaching our destination amidst heavy rainfall, we opened the rooftop, took a brief shower, and retired early for the night.
Lacking the motivation to prepare our own breakfast, we ventured to the Port Mor restaurant to indulge in a traditional Scottish breakfast. I offered my haggis to Patrick and my sausages to Flower in exchange for some tomatoes. To enhance the dark toast, I spread Ovomaltine jam and savored two chocolate milks, while my companions enjoyed their bacon, beans, eggs, and mushrooms.
After packing up our campsite, we set off northward to Bunnahabhain. A newly constructed visitor center featuring a charming shop awaited us. Although we arrived too early for the scheduled tour, we were able to participate in a tasting at Warehouse 9. Our guide did not impress me; while he was knowledgeable about the contemporary Bunnahabhain offerings, he lacked information regarding the pre-1950 distilled varieties, which intrigued me the most. Additionally, he appeared to be inexperienced in his role, having only started in the spring. He discouraged us from visiting Jura, labeling it the most tedious island on Earth, but suggested Kilchoman as a worthwhile destination. Following the tasting, we purchased two bottles of rare malts and proceeded to Kilchoman, which turned out to have an exceptionally impressive visitor center.
The whisky produced on the island is still in its early stages, yet it exhibits considerable promise, as the distillery manages all aspects of production, from distillation to bottling and shipping. We relished a delightful lunch and sampled over ten different whiskies before proceeding to Machir Mor, a beach renowned for its stunning vistas. The shoreline featured pristine white sand, powerful waves, and lush green grasses. While we captured numerous photographs, Flower remained in the vehicle. Although the weather was windy and chilly, we were fortunate to experience some sunshine.
Subsequently, we ventured to Saligo Bay, where we encountered a similar picturesque landscape, albeit with significantly fewer visitors. Our return journey followed the same route we had taken to arrive. We opted to establish our campsite along the shores of Blackrock Bay and promptly set up sidewalls to shield ourselves from the strong winds. I utilized a pocket helicopter for several flights, capturing both photos and videos, and after enjoying some hors d'oeuvres, we commenced the preparation of our dinner.
As we settled in for the night, the weather turned windy, cold, and rainy. The wind persisted throughout the night, causing our pop-up roof to contend with the elements.
Due to our unfavorable impression of the Bunnahabain guide and the recommendation from the Kilchoman staff to explore Jura, we resolved to embrace the challenge and make the crossing. However, the journey to Jura carries inherent risks, as the ferry's ability to return is uncertain due to the strong winds and currents in the canal separating the two locations.
We boarded the barque at Port Askaig without any significant delay and completed our payment in cash on the deck. The attendant issued us a return ticket, remarking that no one would wish to extend their stay on Jura. Upon our arrival at the sparsely populated island, we traveled for 45 minutes to Craighouse, the sole settlement, which also houses the Isle of Jura distillery. A British student was managing the shop and sold us tickets for a factory tour scheduled for 14:00. In the interim, we took the opportunity to explore the village. We discovered a rum distillery adjacent to the school and a small harbor. There was a hotel featuring a subpar pub and a restaurant with disappointing cuisine. Our attempts to dine at the restaurant were ultimately unsuccessful.
The tour itself was both impressive and unexpected. Jura does not produce any goods on the island; instead, everything is shipped to Inverness. We found only one whisky to our liking, a smoky variety that was unfortunately unavailable for purchase. A jacket that caught my eye was worn by a Scottish student, who was reluctant to part with it. She suggested that I should consider working at the Jura distillery to obtain one for myself.
Jura essentially consists of a single road that stretches from the southern to the northern tip of the island. We chose to follow this road, passing by cottages, expansive empty fields, desolate forests, and several abandoned houses, ultimately reaching a parking area where further driving is prohibited.
Jura is renowned for its higher population of deer compared to humans. During our visit, we were fortunate to encounter a group of stags, several deer, and various other wildlife. After some deliberation, we opted against camping on the island and decided to return via the ferry. We took a scenic route back south, passing Craigshouse after approximately an hour, and arrived just in time for the small ferry. The journey was quite turbulent, and the weather was even more unpredictable than before; however, we successfully reached Port Askaig and proceeded to the Bridgend hotel, where we relished an exceptional dinner.
Flower expressed a desire for warm, extended showers, prompting us to return to Port Mor Camping, where we parked in the driest area of the grass. The camping grounds were thoroughly soaked, and merely walking across them resulted in thoroughly wet shoes. We set up the pop-up roof, insulated the walls, activated the heating, and soon retired for the night.
The following morning, we enjoyed another breakfast at Port Mor before heading to Ardbeg. The shop was not particularly inviting, and the so-called “flights” of whisky tastings did not impress us. Many of the products were available at lower prices in Switzerland, leading us to forgo purchasing any bottles. Patrick opted for an incognito hoodie. Our next destination was Lagavulin, where we were charmed by their hospitality. Initially, we sampled a remarkable cask and then proceeded to the Mill (as "Vulin" translates to mill) bar, where we enjoyed an exquisite array of whiskies. We purchased two bottles and a hoodie for Flower before making our way to Laphroaig. This distillery featured a delightful museum filled with rubber boots, as they offer a plot of land in your name with the purchase of their premium bottles. Visitors to the factory can borrow a pair of rubber boots to explore the moorland and locate their own plot, earning the title of “Lord,” which is conferred upon landowners in Scotland. We sampled a fine selection of casks, but the ones we wished to purchase were all rare malts. The other whiskies we enjoyed were available at home for a more affordable price, which encouraged us to buy a drinking bottle instead.
A bit unsettled, we resumed our journey towards Port Askaig. The pub did not serve food, compelling us to consume shandy and two leftover slices of lemon pie. After a two-hour wait, the Finlagan arrived, and we boarded, relishing a substantial dinner on the vessel before reaching Kennacraig amidst inclement weather. We then navigated the road upwards and set up camp in a forest near Cairnbaan, alongside other campers. We established the Starlink, enjoyed a final drink, and retired early that evening.
The following day was dedicated to driving. After a brief breakfast, we packed our belongings and set off for Oban to procure supplies. Traveling through Glencoe in the rain, we passed Ben Nevis, shrouded in fog and clouds, before turning left at Invergarry towards the renowned Applecross pass. Regrettably, the weather was dismal, resulting in our footage from the summit being merely a storm video featuring heavy rain and strong winds.
Our initial camping option was at the Ratagan pass, where we encountered a man in a delivery van who initiated a conversation, inquiring if we would camp alongside him. Preferring solitude at times, we opted to continue north, passing through Stromferry and Tornapress to set up camp slightly north of Applecross on a cliff adjacent to a white camper. The wind intensified throughout the evening, and after dinner, we listened to the BBC weather forecast, which left us somewhat taken aback. A diminished hurricane was impacting Scotland, prompting the issuance of a yellow warning advising residents to "stay home." After evaluating our circumstances, we opted to retract our side walls and dismantle our camp, choosing instead to drive further north to a location more sheltered from the wind.
The following morning, we set off northward without preparing breakfast, as the weather had improved slightly. Near Torridon, we discovered a charming local store that served a traditional Scottish breakfast, where we lingered for a while before continuing our journey along the breathtaking coastal road to Ullapool. We relished every moment of the drive, basking in the sunshine and admiring the splendid scenery. Upon reaching Ullapool, we took a leisurely walk through the town, perused local real estate listings, and ventured further north to investigate a waterfall located within a cave. The trail proved to be steep and muddy, and having worn inappropriate footwear, we decided to return to our vehicles and proceed further north.
In Scourie, we located a local shop adjacent to a camping site, where we checked in and encountered several German motorcyclists, numerous other campers, and a magnificent sunset over the bay. Patrick opted for curry for dinner, while we preferred to prepare a meal that was less greasy.
With the sun shining, we packed our side walls and navigated the winding road north through desolate landscapes. We paused at the Smoo Caves to explore the remarkable underwater falls once more, before following Loch Eriboll towards Totegan. Although Google indicated that we could visit the renowned lighthouse, we encountered a blocked dead end, guarded by a determined farmer's wife who firmly informed us that "there is no parking"—essentially, a clear message to leave.
We contemplated visiting John o’ Groats and Dunnet Head, however, we ultimately opted for a more direct route from Melvich to Helmsdale. This decision proved to be advantageous, as the less frequented single-track road offered a remarkable driving experience. Along the way, we encountered Loch Ruathair and followed winding rivers, all while enjoying breathtaking views of the surrounding hills and glens.
I encouraged Patrick and Flower to make an additional stop at a distillery in Brora, a suggestion they were initially reluctant to accept. Nevertheless, I managed to persuade them to at least utilize the exceptionally clean and modern restroom facilities before refueling and continuing our journey southward. We resolved to head to Inverness for dinner at a pub, where we would then determine our subsequent plans. Upon arrival, we found the pub to be more akin to a mediocre sports bar than a dining establishment. The staff appeared somewhat inebriated, and the food was more functional than appetizing. After a brief stroll through Inverness, we set off southward in the fading light, aiming to camp in Pitlochry within the forest near Loch Tummel. Following a final drink, Patrick bid farewell, having already arranged for his ferry to Dover the next evening, and he intended to travel south at full speed.
We enjoyed a restful night, awakening to the sound of Patrick's departure shortly after 7:00 AM. Preferring not to prepare breakfast, we decided to drive south to Perth to visit a Tesco. We had promised our friend Lisa, who drives a Land Rover, a bottle of Tobermory Gin, which was available there. Unfortunately, we were unaware that we could not purchase it before 10:00 AM, necessitating its return to the shelf. After arriving near Stirling post-10:00 AM, we still found no Tobermory Gin. I seized the opportunity to purchase a variety of beers to enjoy at home, which elicited an eye-roll from Flower as I attempted to find space for all the bottles in the car. Perhaps her reaction stemmed from fatigue after days of continuous travel without a break.
In the third Tesco located in Johnstonbridge, we discovered Tobermory gin along with an assortment of beers, which, naturally, needed to be accommodated in the Defender. After reviewing our intended route, we opted to take the Harwich to Hook ferry once more. This decision indicated that a full day of driving awaited us, and without any further delays, we accelerated past Manchester, Birmingham, and later Cambridge. We stopped for a delightful dinner at the Poacher Pub in Elsworth, where we received excellent service, before embarking on the final hour of our drive to Harwich. Unfortunately, all our pre-selected camping spots were either occupied or unsatisfactory. With some creative thinking, we located a site in the West End Land car park, where we spent an intriguing night by the seaside. It appeared that many couples frequented the area for quiet moments in their cars or leisurely dog walks. They left us undisturbed, allowing us to retire early and awaken to a breathtaking sunrise the following morning.
Skipping breakfast, we proceeded to the ferry terminal. Arriving 20 minutes ahead of our boarding time, I humorously set up a makeshift breakfast on the car bonnet, much to the amusement of fellow travelers. Flower enjoyed a coffee on the ferry while we secured front-row seats in the lounge for the crossing. Basking in warm sunshine, we reached Hook of Holland. Initially, we considered returning to the beach to camp among the dunes, but the desire to return home soon prevailed. We took to the highway, passing through Nijmegen and Venlo, until hunger struck. At a fast-food establishment marked by the two golden arches, we had a simple meal before continuing our journey to Rheinböllen. There, in a poorly maintained rest area, we parked the Dirty Panda and spent the night beside the highway.
The absence of our typical morning routine led us to start the engine and make a stop in Mannheim for breakfast, followed by a final coffee break in Stuttgart, before arriving home shortly after lunchtime. We repeated the same error as on our previous journeys: we did not allocate two full days to any location, nor did we take the time to engage in activities beyond driving and reaching destinations. One might argue that our time on Islay was somewhat more static, however, we still hurried from one distillery to another, and the nights spent in storms were far from restful. We must learn to unwind, pause, breathe, and savor the moment, even in the face of cold and harsh weather conditions. The Dirty Panda exhibited some shortcomings, and the brakes were squeaking after our travels. It was no surprise that we needed to replace the discs and brake pads, and I performed an oil change after covering so many kilometers.
As we eagerly anticipate our next journey, the possibilities seem endless. Will we find ourselves wandering through the sun-kissed vineyards of Tuscany, savoring the flavors of Italy? Or perhaps we will be exploring the rich history and stunning landscapes of the Balkans for the third time, immersing ourselves in a tapestry of cultures. Alternatively, we might be drawn to the charming coastal towns of Portugal, where the sea breeze whispers tales of adventure. On the other hand, a return to the rugged beauty of Brittany or the enchanting landscapes of the North could also be on the horizon. Each destination holds its own allure, promising unique experiences and unforgettable memories. Stay tuned for updates as we embark on this exciting journey, and in the meantime, indulge in the captivating sights and sounds of our Scotland Travel Documentary.
Nice Travel Adventure