A couple of new videos from the Outer Hebrides

My getting up to date with the blog entries about the Hebrides, Summer 2014, has coincided with the launch of a couple of related films.

First off, my little film about the trip itself, set to the music of the brilliant Maeve Mackinnon:

Next up, a brilliant film from Airstream as part of its 'Live Riveted' Lifestyle Campaign. It stars - ahem - yours truly, and all the footage (apart from me sat in the doorway of the trailer) is mine from my trip to the Outer Hebrides in summer 2013:

I guess my intonation could have been sharper, but the monologue was lifted as highlights from a half-hour interview. Had I knew what I was going to say, I may have sounded a little more full of life!

Anyway, I hope you enjoy these.

Camping and Caravanning on the Isle of Harris (and a bit of Barra. And North Uist)

January 2015


Further to the last blog entry, here's a more information-biased entry for those looking at bringing their caravan or motor caravan to the Outer Hebrides.

This entry is a partial update to my 2012 Guide to Caravanning in the Outer Hebrides. I say 'partial' as once you get South of Benbecula there are new sites around that I have yet to properly mention.

Right now, I want to talk about the Isle of Harris. Without doubt, this is my favourite island in the Outer Hebrides. To the North you have the dramatic North Harris Hills, to the West you have gorgeous white sandy beaches, and to the East you have an almost lunar rocky landscape. On top of that, there are three fantastic places to eat and spend an afternoon with a good book and enjoy a friendly chat:

Skoon Art Cafe 

Temple Cafe

and a new addition to my favourites list:

Hebscape Gallery Tea Room


Despite Harris being the nicest island, your options for camping and caravanning are limited. There is no such thing as the perfect site here, each site has its good points and bad points, and that's the point of this article.

First off, a bit of background:

The landscape is, as previously mentioned, beautiful. However, that also makes it very difficult to find any naturally flat area to park a caravan or motorhome. Levelling out pitches is a very, VERY costly process. This cost is passed on to the camper. As such, while people expect camping on the islands to be cheaper than on the mainland, the opposite applies. I find it far more expensive on Harris than on the mainland.

Here are the sites, starting near Tarbert (the main ferry port) and heading clockwise around the lower part of the island:

MINCH VIEW

It's been five years since I've been here but I don't think much has changed. It's a small, CL-style site with basic facilities and four EHUs. The big downsides are the boggy ground, and the very tight entrance as you turn off the road. I only just about managed it with a 7ft6 wide single axle.


LICKISTO BLACKHOUSE AND CAMPING

Lots to like here. Friendly hosts, great view, sheltered from the worst of the Westerly winds, and a 'Blackhouse' which is the focus of the campsite in the evening; a place to use the kitchen, meet other campers, and relax. Good facilities.
Downsides? None if you're a tent camper. A couple if you're in a leisure vehicle. The hardstanding area for caravans and motor caravans is the size of a postage stamp. Single axle caravans only, and you'll need a motor mover or need to be able to manhandle your van. Large units (eg tag axle motorhomes) need not apply. There's only the space for 3 vans, no awnings, and any cars will have to be left on the road. No chemical loo disposal (you need to go to Leverburgh to empty the loo) and it's £20 per night for two people in a van.

FLODABAY FARM

A warm welcome from Tony and Sharon, hardstanding, stunning views, chemical loo disposal point, and electric hook-ups.

That's the good stuff. The not-so-good stuff:
£25 per night inc EHU - this is for a site with no shower or toilet facility. Wow.
There are five pitches, not three as on the website. No tents allowed.
Access involves a long drive along the single-track 'Golden Road' down the East Coast of the island - not for the faint-hearted.
The road to the pitches is up a very, VERY sharp incline. 4x4s essential. Motor caravans need plenty of oomph and a robust clutch.


HORGABOST CAMPSITE

This is the wildest, largest, cheapest (but that isn't saying much) and most relaxed campsite in Harris. You can't book, you just turn up.

Well-drained grass pitches, but only a few tent pitches (and a couple of motor caravan pitches 'up top') have a sea view. However, location is what this site is all about - right on the beautiful sandy beach with the stunning backdrop of the North Harris Hills and the island of Taransay rising out of the sea.

Facilities are adequate, based in old shipping containers. Showers are £1 (but you'd only use them if you don't have on board facilities) and there are loos and a washing up area. WCs are wheelchair accessible.

Downsides? It's a flat fee of £14/night for a caravan/motorhome. That's not great if, like me, you're on your own. There are no EHUs, and nowhere to empty the loo (back to Leverburgh...). The site is littered with seasonal caravans, and as there is no on-site staff presence, there is nobody to keep unruly campers in check late at night. I hasten to add that I have NEVER been disturbed by anti-social behaviour here. Facing North West, the site can get battered by the wind forcing tent campers to scuttle over to Lickisto.


WILD CAMPING

There is a great scheme that has been introduced by the West Harris Trust. You're welcome to Wild Camp in certain spots, but are expected to make a super-reasonable contribution of £5 per night for the privilege. This is a great idea.

The downsides are: The areas are just off the road (i.e. laybys) so there isn't much room, and everything (fresh water, waste water, rubbish) needs to be carried in and carried out. OK for a night stop, not a realistic alternative to a camp site for longer stays.


So there you have the current (2014/15) camping situation on the island of Harris.

I conclude this entry with two alternatives if the actual campsite, or value for money, are of high importance to you.

The BEST CAMPSITE in the Outer Hebrides in my humble opinion is Moorcroft Campsite, in the South West corner of North Uist. Great views, super facilities, friendly owners, easy access, reasonable pricing... THIS is the campsite to come to if you have a large (twin axle) or a wide (8ft) caravan as the road from Lochmaddy ferry terminal is almost completely two-way. You can leave the 'van here and explore seven causeway-linked islands unencumbered. Kilbride campsite down in South Uist is also a nice, clean, neatly-presented site, but is less central.

The BEST VALUE campsite in the Outer Hebrides is Scurrival (Scuribhal) campsite at Eoligarry at the North East tip of Barra. The friendly owner Angus-John charges by the person, not by the unit. Therefore in 2014 I ended up paying £5 per night which included brilliant facilities - big en-suite shower rooms and a kitchen with two washing up sinks. No laundry facilities though (2014).

Fantastic views, and EHUs at £4/n if you want them. I stayed six nights, and was charged the same as I was for one night at Flodabay Farm. But, to be fair, no expensive quarrying and levelling has been necessary at Scurrival.



So there you have it... I hope that's been of some use to you. You have the info... now all you need to do is decide when you're coming!

Hebrides 2014

May/June 2014

Here we go... event of the year, my trip to paradise and the islands I find so totally and utterly irresistable. Since discovering the Outer Hebrides in 2009, I've completely lost the desire to go anywhere else. When I do go other places, my reaction is normally: 'Well, it's nice, but it's not the Outer Hebrides...'

 I'd not been to Ullapool since that first trip five years ago. It's a gorgeous little town that warrants a longer stay yet, just like the North End of Skye, I never hang around because I know what riches lie just across The Minch (the sea between the mainland and the islands).

I thought I'd be smart and fill up with diesel in Ullapool HOW MUCH???!!!!

I later found out that fuel is much cheaper in Stornoway. Nothing to do with cost of the raw material or transportation then, all to do with local competition. In other words, you get ripped off in places where there is little competition. Like Ullapool.

The last time I travelled on Caledonian MacBrayne's ferry 'Isle of Lewis', it was still a couple of years BC (Before Canine). I LOVE Caledonian MacBrayne for many reasons, one of which is that you don't need to leave your dog in the car or in a kennel, you can take it upstairs with you where there is special pet lounge.

I have to say, the Pet Lounge on the mv Isle of Lewis is my least favourite so far, as there are no windows. Let's hope the new ferry that takes up the route in 2015, mv Loch Seaforth, will be nicer. I'll certainly be giving that a go. The mv Hebrides (from Uig in Skye) and the mv Clansman and the mv Lord of the Isles (from Oban) have much nice dog lounges. The mv Finlaggan is OK (to Islay) but on there you can't escape annoying televisions blaring out.

Arrival in Stornoway, Isle of Lewis, was at a temporary berth while the main pier was being altered for the arrival of the mv Loch Seaforth on the run. As such, there was a mighty angle in the loading ramp, but the deck crew were outstanding. I was told to take my time and had 'deckies' checking from four angles as I inched the Airstream off the ramp and onto the pier. Chocks were put into place where necessary, and we were off without grounding or any problems whatsoever.  Have I mentioned I love Caledonian MacBrayne?

Our destination was 90 minutes away towards the South of the Isle of Harris, but all the main services are here in Stornoway. Dougal had been limping off and on since hurting his paw in Brora so our first call was to the vet. Luckily I remembered that there is a large car park near the vet by the BBC Alba studios so I could park the entire rig for an hour without anybody minding. Otherwise, if you need to leave your rig for the day in Stornoway, there is paid Large Vehicle Parking Area behind Engebret's Garage. Everyone knows Engebret's and it's easy to find online.

With no fault found to Dougal's paw (probably a sympathy ploy to get more treats, that dog isn't daft) we headed South to Harris. To keep this entry short enough to be readable, I'll describe the camping on the island in a later blog entry.

My friends G&C joined me in Harris with their Vanmaster Caravan. We had a fantastic week. Plenty of walking, eating, drinking, and photo opportunities.

 

C *loves* cooking and I happen to love eating, so for an entire week I was spared making my own dinner. He was amazed that the local Co-Op in Leverburgh in the South of Harris had almost everything he needed, no matter how exotic the dish. Like any responsible caravanner, his aim was to buy all his food locally to ease loading the caravan and support the local economy.

When eating out, we alternated between my two favourite cafes in the whole world, EVER. They are:

Skoon Art Cafe in Geocrab

Temple Cafe in Northton

These two establishments are instrumental in my choice to stay on Harris instead of another island.

It was incredibly sad to see G&C leave on the Friday after one week. I decided to head South to the Uists on the Sunday. Meanwhile, it was that Saturday I sat outside Temple Cafe and witnessed the arrogant idiots that angered me so and inspired me to bash out the blog entry 'How Dare You'. I was fuming.

Come the next day I hitched up the Airstream and parked up at Northton to enjoy a crafty kitesurf. Little did I know that this would never happen again... you'll have to wait for the 'Hebrides Winter 2014' entry to find out why!

After yet another beautiful lunch at Temple Cafe (accompanied by farewells, hugs, and maybe a tear or two on my part) I boarded the ferry over to Berneray.


There are no camp sites on Berneray, so CalMac has provided a free service point for Caravans and Motor Caravans. Have I mentioned I love Caledonian MacBrayne?

I snuck off down to the dunes to camp, and apart from doing my usual 'clean up' of the area (happily there was hardly any litter to clear this time) I really wished that there was an Honesty Box or something so that people who want to contribute back to the island in exchange for the free camping are able to do so. A brilliant scheme works in West Harris that allows this.


Next day, I went down to Moorcroft Campsite on North Uist for a couple of days. Moorcroft remains one of my favourite sites in the Outer Hebrides. I always get such a warm welcome from the owners Iain and Catriona, and they even indulge me and let me try out my pigeon Gàidhlig on them.

Once again I had a fantastic kitesurf in the shallow waters off the campsite:

I had planned to stay a little longer in the Uists but I ended up charging down to the island of Barra as I wanted to catch an old acquaintance, Christine, before she left the island. I met Christine on that first trip five years ago, and she spends every summer on Barra in her Coachman Caravan. She's been doing that for more years than she cares to remember, and is a font of all local knowledge.

A funny thing happened on my way to Barra. First of all, let's just say that quite a few folks in the islands, both resident and visitors, know of 'The Man with the Silver Caravan'. Second, people in the islands are lovely anyway, and many will wave when you're passing even if you've never met before.

As ever, I took my time when the road was single track, and if I ever saw anyone coming the other way or behind me, I'd be the first to pull over. After all, I'm obviously on holiday with an Airstream on the back. That other person is likely to be a resident who simply wants to get from A to B.

Today, though, it seemed that the waves from the drivers (and passengers) were more enthusiastic than ever. I was a little puzzled. Had I met some of these people? Then, as I allowed a car coming the other way to pass, the occupants stopped alongside and wound down their window:

'Great blog Andrew!' the driver shouted. I felt humbled. It appears that not only do folks actually read this, but it also looks like the entry I wrote with steam coming out my ears ('How Dare You') struck a chord with a LOT of other people too. Aw shucks.


I'd not returned to Barra (other than a day trip) since 2010. In 2010 wild camping was stopped on the island, yet the campsites were not really ready to accept caravans and motor caravans. It was a bit of a bumpy transition period, but now the transistion is complete and it's probably one of the best islands for caravans and motorhomes.

I intended to spend just a couple of days at Scurrival (Scuribhal) Campsite at Eoligarry in the North of the island, then tour around and try the other sites in order to report back. However, laziness and a contented sense of being settled kicked in, and ended up spending the entire week at Scurrival.

Now here's the thing that I'll be going into when I write about camping in the Outer Hebrides again: ONE WEEK at Scurrival cost me the same as ONE NIGHT on one of the campsites in Harris. Therefore the 'Airport Cafe' down the road got my business every day. Not only was the food good, there was free wifi and, of course, the daily theatre of being the only airport in the world where scheduled flights land on the beach.

After a fantastic week re-acquainting myself with the island of Barra, it was with heavy heart that I headed to Castlebay one last time to board the mv Clansman. Stupid, soppy, sentimental fool that I am, I spent most of the trip outside at the aft end, watching my beautiful, gorgeous islands slip slowly out of site with tears in my eyes. Mar sin leibh Na h-Innse Gall mo ghràibh. Tillidh mi air ais.

Road to the Islands Part 6: Kylesku Bridge, Clachtoll, and Return of the Mojo

May 2014

It doesn't take a Genius to work out that I am a Gael at heart. I don't understand why (my family is from Kent for at least the last 150 years), but there is something I find so attractive about the Highlands and Islands of Scotland. I had enjoyed the East Coast, but one minor thing was bugging me. I'd driven up from Dover and, while I discovered a truly beautiful stretch of coastline, I didn't really find anything that I could not have found closer to home. East Kent, Suffolk, Norfolk, East Lincolnshire, East Yorkshire, and especially Northumberland... they are all so beautiful in that 'Big Sky' East Coast kind of a way. With so much East Coast Gorgeousness close to hand, there would be nothing really to take me back to the North East of Scotland now that I have enjoyed its cultural attractions.

The West Coast however... oh my goodness me, that is something else. Wild, desolate, rugged, and beautiful landscapes that are found in no other parts of the UK with a language and a culture to match. I can't get enough of it, so much so that I am now doing a University Course in Scottish Gaelic, aiming eventually for my first ever degree.

So... despite the fact I had remained as open-minded as possible, and I really had enjoyed my time on the East Coast and in the fantastic Naver/Nabheir Glen, I cannot deny that turning the corner at Durness (and leaving behind the rubbish experience at Cape Wrath) was a 'turning of the corner' in more ways than one. The weather went from OK to fantastic. The scenery went from fantastic to stunning. My spirits lifted beyond measure. Swooping through dramatic glens on deserted roads with my Airstream behind, I actually allowed myself to relax and feel good again. It was an uplifting afternoon.

Being the adventurous sort that I am (that's another way of saying 'disorganised' and 'running by the seat of my pants') I had no plans for the evening. I took a few side roads to see if they'd lead to nice places to camp for the night.

They didn't.

Twice I ended up having to unhitch the Airstream, spin it around, and head back. Given the to-do with the Cape Wrath experience, that made it three times in a day I had to turn the 'van around. This, my friends, is why I love my single-axle caravan, and why, being a single caravanner, I bless my motor mover. It's not that I cannot reverse my caravan, it's that quite often I'll end up with nowhere to reverse it into.

That night I finally ended up in a layby off the A894 at Kylesku, next to the bridge and just out of sight of the road which made me feel a little less conspicuous. Unbeknown to me at first, it turned out to be an interesting place to stop.

Like 99% of motorists I would have hooned over the bridge without thinking twice about it. Now, having stopped to breath and to rest, I had the time to examine the interpretation boards and explore the area.

The curved box girder bridge looked impressive from my makeshift pitch. Before the bridge was built, the A894 was broken by a ferry crossing at this point, and that ferry only ran in daylight. People rushing for the last ferry caused accidents, and many faced an unexpected night in Kylesku or a long, long diversion via Altnaharra.

You'd think that all changed sometime around 1964, wouldn't you? But no, this was the state of affairs until 1984, a mere 30 years ago. Fascinating.

Next day I set off with Clachtoll Beach Campsite in mind. It wasn't too far away, but my dear friend M had told me to take the coast road around the peninsula to Lochinver. What M had obviously forgotten was this sign as you turn off the A894:

Hey ho. These signs are there for a reason. I carried on along the A road taking the long way 'round, but nevertheless was still rewarded with an AMAZING drive. This, dear reader, is what caravanning is about - the joy of the journey and discovery:

 

My welcome at Clachtoll was warm and friendly, always super-important to a solo traveller. It was a lovely site for a night stop where I could unwind and catch up on work for a bit. Being anxious to get to the islands I only stayed for one night, but I enjoyed the area and the site so much I'm already planning my return visit. Next time I'll definitely be taking the motorbike as well!

Road to the Islands Part 5: Highs and Lows

May 2014

'What is your favourite Caravan Club Site?' is a question I am often asked. It's one that, until now, has proved impossible to answer. I like so many of them, and each for a different reason: There's Morvich, High Onn, Cirencester, Fairlight Wood, Crystal Palace, and many more besides.

Finally, I now have a firm favourite. That favourite Caravan Club Site is also the Club's most remote, most relaxed, and arguably one of its most beautiful sites, Altnaharra in Scotland. It's 20 miles to the nearest shop, and while the main 'B' road skirts the site, you'll be lucky to count more than three cars passing in an entire evening. 

 Pitches border Loch Naver ('Loch Nabhair' anns a' Ghàidhlig) and are surrounded by Munros, Corbetts, and Grahams - rich diverse Scottish names for what in boring English we may refer to as 'mountains and hills'. Call it what you like, it's stunning. 

 An enjoyable few days was spent here, discovering the nearby clearance village, and learning a little more about The Clearances at the Strathnaver Museum in Bettyhill. It was at this museum I had a very interesting chat with a Gaelic speaker about the language and the local attitudes towards it - more on that in a later Blog Entry. 

Whenever the sun shone, I'd be out with my camera. It was almost an addiction, it all just seemed too beautiful not to capture. 

However, all good things must come to an end, and I decided to arrange a trip to take in Cape Wrath on the next leg of my journey. 

John o' Groats is well known as being the furthest popular and accessible point on mainland Britain from its Cornish cousin Land's End. The South West to North East Axis is the popular one. By far less popular, but of more interest to me, is the South East to North West Axis, Dover to Cape Wrath. I'm a Dover lad you see, so it seemed fitting to make the trip to the furthest point from my home town. 

Cape Wrath is reached by a passenger ferry and then a minibus service across MOD land. I booked my place on the trip with the minibus operator who assured me that there was ample room to park the caravan while I was on the trip, and told me that I should turn up at 1pm for my booked trip. 

The trip to Durness, nearest town to the ferry to Cape Wrath, was not a happy one. With the Airstream in tow I was stuck behind a tag-axle Buerstner motor caravan (I remember it well) driven by the kind of selfish toerag that gives leisure vehicles a bad name. For the best part of an hour, I missed the lovely scenery as I was staring up the backside of this twitty twonk's ugly bus. A queue of cars (well, about three) built up behind me and I pulled over to let them pass on the single-track road, but still Buerstner Bar-steward refused to let me pass. A rental motor caravan caught up with us. I let him pass too. He then must have lost his rag with Numpty Features as I saw the reflections of flashing lights in the Buerstner's back panel after a while. After what felt like an eternity, with my teeth gritted and my nerves frazzled, Meanie Moho Man FINALLY allowed the rental motorcaravan, and me, to pass. I think the word 'Halle - bloody - luliah' may have emitted from the base of my stomach. Loudly. 

Still, I made it to the pier in time. But there was nowhere to park the rig. There wasn't even the space to park a car - the car park was jammed full. I continued to the turning area, but had to unhitch the Airstream in order to turn it around. I blessed my Motor Mover. 

Sadly, as the turning area was on a slope, the 'van rolled back until the brake fully engaged, which in turn snapped the breakaway cable. Ugh. 

With blood pressure reaching stratospheric heights, I got the rig turned around and now wondered where I was going to park it. Meanwhile, the ferryman was sitting in his van oblivious to my plight. I banged on his door. 

'Excuse me, I'm booked on the 1pm tour. Do I have time to park my rig down the road and get back in time to get the ferry?' I asked. 

'There's no point, you won't get on.'

'No, I will, I booked in advance you see.'

'But you still won't get on.'

'Pardon?'

'Well, I can take you over, but there's only one minibus and he is absolutely overwhelmed. You see those people on the jetty on the other side of the estuary? I took them over this morning and they are still waiting. You won't get on.'

'But...but...I've booked! I've come all the way from Dover for this!'

'I feel for you, I really do. It's a disgrace and it's not good enough. We have tourists coming from far and wide and are always turning them away. It's an embarrassment, but until we get a second bus there's nothing more we can do.'

'So what shall I do?'

'Complain to Visit Scotland.This is a disgrace and it's shameful. Visit Scotland need to get this sorted out.'


My heart sank. I'd booked! But then, I had booked with someone who told me that there was plenty of room to park the rig, which there was not. I didn't want to abandon my pride and joy in a layby somewhere while I took a ferry for no reward other than waiting about on a jetty all afternoon. I sloped off. As I passed the layby at the end of the road about half a mile away, its entrance was blocked anyway by a JCB being loaded onto a lorry. This, as my Mum would say, 'put the tin hat on it.' I skulked off to the next layby, where I pulled over to have some lunch and fit my spare breakaway cable. I was disappointed, but all the signs were saying; 'Don't go'. One of the important things about travel, and about life, is to listen to the messages you're getting and change your plans accordingly. Sometimes, it just isn't meant to be, and it's obviously not mean to be for a reason. You may never know what that reason is, but it's best to just go with the flow. That's exactly what we did, and as Dougal Dog and I continued with our journey, we turned a corner in more ways than one.

Road to the Islands Part 4: Dunnet Bay and Tyre tribulations

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May 2014

So there I was, in the middle of nowhere in the depths of the remote Scottish Highlands with a blown caravan tyre. As I was blocking a lane of a two-way road, I certainly wasn't going to put myself at risk by changing the wheel.

I looked at my phone in this remote area fearing the worst, but to my delight and relief I had 4bars of 3G signal. Thank you EE. Proof, as if you need it, than when choosing your mobile operator, price should not be your only consideration.

It was time to put Green Flag to the test. I switched to the Caravan Club's 'Mayday' recovery service after an appalling experience with the RAC last year, where the recovery was both traumatic and farcical. When I complained, the long and the short of their excuse is that you cannot expect a smooth caravan recovery in the winter when you're travelling with a dog. Really.

The telephone service from Green Flag was good, and I was kept informed of progress. It took 70 minutes for the agent to arrive which, given the fact I was miles from anywhere, wasn't an unacceptable length of time to wait.

The operative's socket wouldn't reach the wheel nut in the decorative but chunky alloys on the Airstream. Fortunately, being the conscious caravanner I am, I had an 'extra long' 19mm socket attached to my torque wrench. Every caravanner should be torquing their wheel nuts on occasion and especially after wheels have been removed (eg service or a new van), so every caravanner reading this would have one anyway, wouldn't they? If you don't, here's another reason why you need to be carrying a torque wrench with a socket that fits your caravan wheel nuts.

The offending wheel was an absolute mess. 

As I had parked up by a kerb, we had difficulties getting the caravan jacked up high enough to be able to retract the spare wheel carrier. As the failed wheel was already off, moving forward was not an option. Top tip: make sure you avoid kerbs near the spare wheel carrier if you can.

Finally, the spare wheel was liberated and in its new temporary position. On my journey I continued, shaken not stirred. This being the Highlands of Scotland, I'd had five offers of help from passing motorists who stopped. You wouldn't get that in other parts of the country, despite being passed by 100 times more traffic.

Approaching Dunnet Bay Caravan Club Site, the first thing you see is the expansive bay itself. An impressive and welcoming sight indeed, but not as welcoming as the lovely wardens at the site. Sometimes all you need is a sympathetic ear and a 'there there' after such a hiccup, and that's exactly what I got.

Dunnet Bay Club Site is on the beach and enjoys a lovely outlook. However, most of the week was spent chasing around getting the tyre fixed which threw up another issue.

In an attempt to find out why the tyre blew, I took the Airstream to a weigh bridge. The reading assured me that the tyres were not overloaded, but despite my frugal loading the total weight was still heavier than I expected. The next few days were spent emptying out the 'van of everything, and I mean everything, so I could weigh it to ascertain its actual MIRO. A very, very kind couple in the Bailey next door offered me use of their awning to store my kit.

Despite my apparent restraint, I was still quietly shocked at the amount of stuff that had crept sneakily into my caravan over the years. The Airstream came out to be a few kilos higher than expected, but nothing that couldn't be overcome. It was time for a serious think, and a serious repack.

So, if the caravan wasn't overloaded, and the tyre was running at the correct pressure (I'd checked it before leaving Culloden Moor), and it was a decent brand, why did it blow? It was the offside tyre that blew, so that also rules out damage by kerbing.

The answer can only be: 'one of those things'. One of the kind people who had stopped to help told me he'd stopped at another blowout on the A9 the previous day. As far as he was concerned, the increase in tyre damage is as a direct result of the deteriorating state of the UK's roads. It is indeed possible that the tyre was weakened by pothole damage, but we don't know.

All in all it was a good catalyst to get the caravan weight checked and also it was a good test of the marvellous Tyron safety bands.

However, the whole episode had cost yet another week, and a lot of heartache and effort. The rain fell every day, my spirits were in my socks, and I was 750 miles from home, so scuttling back to friends and family in Kent wasn't a option. The only option was to simply count my blessings and get on with it. So that is exactly what I did.

Researching a travel feature always gives me the push to get out and visit places even if feeling a little lifeless and 'meh'. However, I didn't need much of a push to get out and visit the Castle of Mey near Dunnet Bay. Former holiday residence of the Queen Mother, the castle is now a living memory to a member of the Royal Family we all hold dear to our hearts. It was a wonderful, heart-warming, enjoyable day. Another place that put a smile on my face, especially during the dark visits to the weighbridge at Scrabster Harbour, was Cups Tearoom bang on the harbour side. Cups is a delightful, friendly, quirky place serving tea in pots with hand-knitted tea cosies, and delicious home-made cake. The lady serving was an real treasure. 

Absolute manna for the soul.

Road to the Islands Part 3 - Brora and a Blowout

May 2014

From Culloden Moor, next port of call on my mission was the Caravan Club Site at Brora. This is a nice site, with just 100yds of golf course to cross to get from the caravan to a deserted, beautiful, sandy beach.

After a few days here, it was time to head up to Dunnet Bay, near Thurso, right at the top do the country.

With all the comings and goings of the previous few weeks, coupled with changeable weather and an ever-looming copy deadline, I'd not really relaxed into the trip. However, as the trip North from Brora progressed, I started to at last 'feel the love'. The deserted stretch of the A9 south of Thurso, and the wild countryside I was admiring, finally put a smile on my face. The Airstream is a delight to tow at all times, but right now the whole rig was cruising smoothly down a deserted road at a relaxed pace as I made sure I was driving slow enough to take in the amazing views in safety.

Just as we were cruising along in a long-awaited air of serenity... *BANG! CRUNCH-CHHHHHHH!*

The Airstream fell onto its wheel rim and immediately I knew the tyre had blown. 'Safety Head' kicked in as I let the rig reduce speed naturally and made sure we kept going past a bend in the road to make sure we would be able to be seen in good time by approaching motorists.

When you have safety features fitted to your caravan, it can be tempting to see them as a bit of a waste of money. Chances are, if you're lucky, you'll never need them. However, as this short episode highlights, if you DO run in to a spot of bother, you will bless every single penny that you have invested in your safety and well being.

Such a good feeling I have about Tyron Safety bands. I had them fitted to my Airstream, and I'm so very very thankful that I did. With the band in place, the tyre blew but remained on the rim. As such, I remained in complete control of the rig and brought it to a safe stop. The damage to the caravan is minimal - just a bit of mashed belly pan to the rear of the wheel. No structural, floor, or bodywork damage whatsoever. 

Naturally I felt shaken, and more than a little bit peeved that the Universe appeared to be conspiring to make sure that nothing went smoothly and to keep me in a permanent state of angst. However, my overriding feeling was one of being blessed. It could have been so much worse. Thank you Tyron.