Camping – Back on the road again

Campervan Touring Around the Vendée & Coastal Loire-Atlantique

Heading north into the heart of the Vendée we were sure we would find cooler weather but the storm was a surprise. My smile faded when the receptionist insisted that we walk around the campsite to find a pitch. Peering outside, lightning was flashing, thunder was rolling and rain poured in sheets and I really would have preferred to take the ‘van around the large site. But keen to get the kettle on, we set off, sheltering in the sanitary blocks when the storm was in full force. The weather wasn’t conducive to finding the ideal pitch but I eventually returned dripping to reception with a number.

The rain had spring cleaned the Vendée and the next day we hiked around the nearby Lac du Jaunay on easy-to-follow paths that undulated around the reservoir’s wooded valley. The birds sang their bestsellers, fresh-scented flowers perfumed the air and buzzards soared above our heads. Passing a shuttered chateau we rested on a rocky outcrop overlooking the water and watched a group slowly glide around our headland on inflated float tubes, languorously combining fishing with eating sandwiches.

We are not even beginner-level table tennis players but always have a couple of paddles and balls in the Blue Bus as European campsites often have outdoor ping-pong tables. Spotting one in the field near our pitch we wandered across, quickly giving up playing seriously as the breeze repeatedly whipped the ball across the table top into the long grass! We giggled as time after time one of us raced to retrieve the ball!

As well as walking, we cycled from the campsite to the winding trail around Coëx that led along the shore of a small reservoir to open fields where hares lolloped and pools where egrets silently strutted. Another route took us back to the banks of Lac du Jaunay and a shallow inlet where a nursery of mallard ducklings stayed close to mum. Hearing a clamour of bird calls we searched the surrounding trees and spotted a noisy group of cormorants shuffling and fidgeting among the branches. Climbing out of the valley we cycled up a shady sunken track and stumbled on an unusual pilgrimage chapel near Martinet. La Chapelle de Garreau has an ornate outdoor ringing chamber on a balcony below the bell tower. Inside were colourful abstract stained glass windows and paintings celebrating a local legend that Mary was seen here washing clothes in the River Jaunay.

From Lac du Jaunay we cycled up a sunken track

After the pastoral calm of the Vendée interior, La Plaine sur Mer on the Côte de Jade had a breezy buzz. Geared up for active holidays, we explored the area around Saint-Gildas Point on foot and bikes. From small harbours and long sandy beaches where red poppies danced in the breeze we reached Saint-Gildas Point, a boating paradise that reverberated with flapping sails and clanking chains. We ambled around the jumble of concrete bunkers, remnants of the Second World War German occupation, and looking north across the mouth of the River Loire we could see the huge port of Saint-Nazaire and towards Batz-sur-Mer.

Beyond the point the landscape changes as the coastal path meanders around sheltered coves and bigger waves attract surfers. We passed wooden shacks perched on stilts above the sea reached by slatted pontoons. Fishermen apparently suspend a net from poles on these pêcheries to catch plaice. A series of information boards showed how artists have interpreted these picturesque views over the centuries and we admired the shoreline houses from Victorian turreted mansions with balconies to modernist concrete and glass and cute bungalows with shutters. The sea was the brightest blue and clusters of yellow flowers clung to the rocks. We sat on a promontory watching terns diving in the sea and at La Grande Plage in Préfailles we kicked off our sandals and crossed the gritty sand to paddle in the cool Atlantic water.

Red poppies danced in the breeze near La Plaine sur Mer

A network of inland farm tracks took us south of La Plaine sur Mer to a natural area of coastal moorland that slopes down to the sea cliffs and contrasts with the built-up seaside. Butterflies sweep among the abundant thistles and gorse bushes and the aroma of sweet-smelling grass after haymaking hung in the air. We followed sandy paths under wind-gnarled trees to secluded beaches where families played and found our own isolated viewpoint for a picnic

Crossing the impressive bridge that arches over the River Loire at Saint-Nazaire we reached Batz-sur-Mer, where friends of ours live. The seaside towns of Batz-sur-Mer and Le Croisic were once craggy islands and are now chic resorts, popular with Parisians in search of cooler climes in summer. The beaches are beautiful and the lively towns abound with stylish shops.

Our friends live near to the campsite and we were soon sitting in their sunny garden catching up over drinks. Our friends are impeccable hosts and that evening they surpassed expectations. Collecting us in their open-top car we enjoyed an evening of French elegance and taste, beginning with cocktails at a beach bar. Sitting with a ritzy cocktail, a view of the sea and my toes in the warm sand I was living the high life. We ate in a restaurant overlooking Le Croisic’s harbour where we were welcomed with glasses of pink fizz and an appetiser that got the taste buds working overtime. The owners were expecting two vegetarians and they had prepared a delicious menu that pleased every sense. Our main meal, a creamy risotto with roasted vegetable garnishes, was a triumph of colour, flavour and artistry served in a classy black bowl. It was so perfect I savoured every mouthful and didn’t want it to end.

The next day we drove north through Brittany to Saint-Malo with a campervan full of deliciously warm memories of France and friends.

Saint-Gildas Point is a boating paradise

We stayed at:

Camping RCN La Ferme du Latois – near the village of Coëx, this is a large, peaceful and green campsite with ponds and trees.

We also stayed in two (very different) campsites from the Flower Campings group.

Flower Camping La Guichardière – near to La Plaine-sur-Mer and the sea, a well-run site with hedged pitches.
Flowers Camping Les Paludiers – we use this site because of its proximity to our friends but it is a bit tired. It is a rambling and sandy site that is popular but the facilities need refurbishment.

Glengoulandie Camping & Dùn Coillich Community Land

Blossom on fruit trees in the community woodland

From our pitch I was easily distracted from learning French on Duolingo as a dipper flew along the burn below us and disappeared under the bridge where hardy campers walked to the camping field. Further distractions came with the evening insects, as the acrobatic wheeling of sandmartins around our campervan was so much more interesting than language learning!

This was Glengoulandie, a glen in the hills between Loch Tay in the south and Loch Tummel in the north and about 15 minutes drive from the small town of Aberfeldy. Here, if all this avian activity becomes boring [never!] you can always move your attention to the herd of farmed deer on the hillside.

At Glengoulandie we were camping in a hope-filled future. Back in 2001 when a local upland farm came on the market, the community saw land that was overgrazed with limited biodiversity and wanted to manage it better. Today this land is owned and managed by a community land trust. The centre of the land is the hill across the burn from our pitch, Dùn Coillich, at 572m high. Planting and natural regeneration on and around this hill over the past two decades has already created attractive native woodland and the wildlife has followed. This positive story is being repeated in many other communities in Scotland and carries the burden of my hopefulness.

On our first evening we made the most of dry weather and took a short walk through the deer park, contouring around the slopes of Dùn Coillich and down to the burn. As we strolled our first cuckoo of the year called from the woodland.

The next day we had planned a longer walk up the hill but the drizzle and low cloud led to a rethink and we enjoyed being lazy in the shelter of our campervan.

By the afternoon, we were ready to stretch our legs and, togged up in waterproofs, we set off on the marked paths around the community land, first following the red route and then the green and white path after climbing the short link path. This was a total of around five kilometres.

This red route follows an old path above the gorge of the tumbling waters of the Allt Mor, taking us through regenerating woodland of birch and rowan and thickets of sweet-smelling bog myrtle.

Climbing up to the green and white route we were walking through the heart of Dùn Coillich. Even on a damp day the landscape was beautiful and the peace enveloping . The route to the summit branches off from this path but the low cloud put us off climbing higher. Instead, we continued back towards our campervan and reaching the burn we walked on winding paths through delightful lush planted woodland and climbed up to the road to reach the campsite.

The regenerating woodland on the community land made Glengoulandie a special place to visit and offers a vision for the future of Scottish landscapes. I am sure we will be back to climb the hill.

The campsite

Glengoulandie Camping and Caravanning is a small site, so don’t all rush there at once! If you like quiet campsites with a laid back feel this will suit you. It has just a few campervan pitches, some static caravans, cabins and space for tents, so with or without a campervan you can stay in this special place. You’ll receive a warm welcome and enjoy hot showers, with adjustable temperature settings. The campsite has a cafe and sells a few essentials but there are no pubs or shops within walking distance.

On our pitch on the Glengoulandie campsite

Following the River Tweed in the Scottish Borders

Looking back to the River Tweed near Peebles

Looking below me and taking in the view in to the steep-sided hollow of The Devil’s Beef Tub I was aware we weren’t far from the source of the River Tweed. The ridge we were following over Annanhead Hill and Great Hill is a dividing line, a watershed. To the south and Moffat I could see the valley of the River Annan as it flows west to the Solway. To the north of the ridge the Tweed flows east to the North Sea. I peered over the trees and grassy lumps and bumps but the young Tweed was still hidden.

The River Tweed runs for 156 kms from the hills above Moffat to Berwick-on-Tweed in England, near the Scottish border. The river flows through the borderlands and some suggest its name comes from an old word for border but this name is also closely associated with a woven woollen fabric. Tweed is often in herringbone or hounds tooth check patterns and has been used for years for coats and jackets.

Moffat

From the high ridge above the unforgettably named Devil’s Beef Tub we descended through restored woodland. Since 2009 The Borders Forest Trust have been bringing back the native woodland, wetlands and heathlands around Corehead, restoring the Ettrick Forest. This already flourishing woodland was delightful walking, with the hillside to ourselves we hiked through varied montane scrub and wildflower meadows, joined by butterflies and bird song. We reached the road at Ericstane from where the walking was long but easy back to Moffat, where we were camping.

When in Moffat we always visit Cafe Ariete, a tradition that began some thirty years ago when we lived in Preston and Moffat was the perfect distance for our first brew stop on any trip north. In all this time the cafe has hardly changed, the coffee is excellent and the breakfasts, lunches and cakes are all tasty and served with a smile. Cafe Ariete is always worth the short detour off the M74!

Grey Mare’s Tail, a waterfall with a 60m drop, is about 20 minutes drive from Moffat. There are two National Trust car parks at the foot of the cascade and from there you can take the short walk to view the falls. We wanted to do more and climbed the steep well-made path above the series of waterfalls. Eventually, the path levels out and meanders through a hummocky landscape to the hidden shore of Loch Skeen, a mountain loch surrounded by crags.

This trip had been planned to follow the River Tweed and we picked it up on the road to Peebles, stopping at Dawyck Botanic Gardens, one of four botanic gardens in Scotland, including Edinburgh. The woodland garden of Dwyck climbs the hillside from the River Tweed floodplain. The landscaping has created a network of sinuous paths among the trees and along the stream, dotted with sculptures and information boards about plant collectors and notable trees. It is a joyful place to visit and worked well on a sunshine and showery day; we could run back to the cafe when dark clouds loomed or shelter under a huge redwood. In September the autumn crocuses were flamboyant and there were early signs of leaves turning.

Peebles & Innerleithen

We had planned this trip after stopping in Peebles briefly last year. It seemed such a lovely small town we wanted to get to know it better. The next morning we parked by the river and walked into the town, filling our bags with goodies, including Selkirk Bannock, from the bakery, browsing the charity shops and enjoying coffee in one of the many cafes.

Our circular walk from Peebles along the River Tweed was only six kilometres long but packed in so much, including natters with friendly locals! From the riverside path we spotted a kingfisher and dippers and had views of Neidpath Castle. On the opposite bank we joined centuries of walkers crossing the hump-backed Old Manor Bridge and climbed uphill, stopping to enjoy the views over the Tweed valley. Our descent through the shady lushness of South Park Wood eventually took us to the old railwayline and back to Peebles.

A little further downstream is the small town of Innerleithen, a spa town and former woollen mill centre. We explored the lovely town and its history and were surprised to meet a local with a grumpy dislike of Peebles! Climbing Pirn Hill [apparently known locally as Windy Knowe], we found a set of stone cairns topped with carved tablets on the Iron Age hillfort site. The view over the town and the Tweed valley is well worth the exertion and I can confirm, it is windy!

Back in the warmth of the valley, we made our way to Innerleithen’s St Ronan’s Wells. The elegant and colourful 19th century pavillion is unmissable on the hillside. In the past two Scottish writers provided advertising for the health-giving properties of the local springs. Robert Burns wrote about the spa during his 18th century travels and Walter Scott’s novel St Ronan’s Well in 1823 encouraged literary tourism. Behind the pavillion we found an idyllic community garden. Full of flowers and herbs, insects and butterflies, with a trickling spring running through it, the garden has winding paths, seating areas and the love that created it seeps from every leaf.

Selkirk

Selkirk is a hilly town that sits on Ettrick Water, a tributary of the Tweed. It is a thigh busting walk from the campsite at the leisure centre to the town, but worth it for the good and ethically-sourced coffee from Three Hills Coffee on the main street.

The sun was shining and we planned to complete the Three Bretheren Walk, a classic hike near Selkirk. However, the small car park was packed by the time we arrived. Checking our trusty Walk Highlands app we drove the short distance to Bowhill Estate. The Duchess’s Drive route on the Bowhill Estate was designed for showing off the land to visitors, ascending through woodland to the open moorland. Although on good tracks, the walk was more exhausting than we expected but full of variety and good views across the lumpy Borders countryside. We returned to the car park by the ruins of Newark Tower, whose white stones were bleached by the sun.

Melrose

We picked up the River Tweed again at Abbotsford, the home of the writer Walter Scott. The large rambling house looks interesting to visit but we concentrated on walking up to Cauldshiels Loch, returning along the bank of the secluded Faldonside Loch before completing our circuit on a woodland path along the River Tweed.

In Melrose we visited the abbey, although due to works being carried out we could only walk around the outside, admiring the red sandstone that blushes when caught by the evening sun. Nearby are two National Trust gardens, Harmony House and Priorwood and, keeping an eye on the weather as showers were heading our way, we sauntered through these two walled gardens. They were both well-stocked and interesting, still full of colour and scents even in mid-September. Priorwood Garden also has an orchard and a stall selling produce from the gardens.

We had planned to spend some time at Berwick-on-Tweed, completing our trip along the River Tweed. However, stuff at home unexpectedly got in the way and Melrose was as far as we got. Until next time!

Faldonside Loch near Abbotsford through the trees

Walking details

Unless otherwise noted, the walks can be found on the Walk Highlands website and app.

The full Devil’s Beef Tub circuit from Moffat is 22.5 km with 521m of ascent. We used a taxi [Moffat Taxis] to get us to the Devil’s Beef Tub viewpoint on the A701 [£10] and walked along the ridge and back to Moffat, reducing the exertion to approximately 15.25 km of walking and only 230m of ascent while retaining lots of interest.

Grey Mare’s Tail and Loch Skeen in the Moffat hills, this 4.5 km walk with 278m of ascent climbs past the series of waterfalls and on to Loch Skeen that is overlooked by craggy hills.

Neidpath Castle and the Tweed walk from Peebles is 6.25 km long with just 89m of ascent. Kingsmeadows car park in Peebles is a large car park and has motorhome spaces.

Pirn Hill Fort Trail in Innerleithen is 2.5 km long with 79m of ascent. Parking is available in a roadside parking area near the entrance to the paths.

The Duchess’s Drive, Bowhill is 11.25 km and 339m of ascent on easy to follow tracks and lanes. There is good parking on the Bowhill Estate for a small charge. The walk is through woodland and across moorland and on lanes by Newark Castle.

Abbotsford has a leaflet of walks you can download, with routes from 2 to 10 km. The Cauldshiels Loch walk is 6.5 km long and takes about two hours from the car park. It was mostly easy to follow, although we did resort to our OS maps as we descended to the River Tweed.

Where we stayed

Moffat Camping & Caravanning Club Site – a good and level site only a few minutes walk from the town.

Tweedside Caravan Park at Innerleithen – this site on the edge of Innerleithen has a small touring area, surrounded by static caravans.

Selkirk Victoria Campsite – on the edge of Selkirk, the pitches are marked out on the tarmac car park at the community-run leisure centre. Campers have keycode access to move the height barrier and access to the three shower rooms and a wash-up sink.

Lilliardsedge Holiday Park – in the countryside between St Boswells and Jedburgh, this is a large site with many statics and a tidy touring area of hardstanding pitches. The site has a restaurant and golf course.

Melrose Caravan and Motorhome Club site – A level site in the town of Melrose and just a few minutes walk from the abbey.

Cycling along the Shady Banks of The Marais Poitevin in France

We had been pottering around France for over a month and crispy baguettes, pungent cheeses and fruity plonk had become our new normal. Our French, while decades away from word-perfect, improved daily and we were firmly in the campervan relaxation groove. But southwest France was sweltering and heading north to escape the heat was the only sensible thing to do. Beyond meeting friends in a couple of weeks time in Batz-sur-Mer on the rugged coast north of the Loire estuary we had no plan. Sitting by the River Vienne in Confolens we opened the road map and turned the pages, tracing possibilities with suntanned fingers.

Confolens

A rough route north hatched we climbed on our bikes to explore from our riverside campsite. Negotiating the narrow streets of Confolens we found medieval timber-framed houses, views over its red roofs from a stone gateway and traces of the walls. We crossed the arched 13^th century bridge and pedalled along the Vienne to Saint-Germain-de-Confolens where a ruined castle perches above the picturesque village. After climbing up to the castle for the panoramic view we chose a shady wobbly table at the hip riverside bar and toasted the sunshine with a heady glass of Pineau.

The Vendée, on France’s Atlantic coast, is loved for its miles of sandy beaches with a rolling green hinterland. It stretches from almost the River Loire in the north to the edges of the Marais Poitevin in the south and the latter was our first stop. The Magné campsite near Niort, on the edge of the Marais Poitevin, has spacious pitches, good facilities and was almost perfect. Morning bread was the only thing missing but an immaculate patisserie was just a few minutes cycle ride away. My pre-breakfast trips to the bakery were effortless but also agonising as it was jam-packed with temptation and I drooled over the lavish display of cakes every morning.

Cycling Around Coulon

The Marais Poitevin is a verdant arcadia, criss-crossed with waterways that divide forestry and meadows. With tracks and lanes joining villages of traditional cottages it offers blissful pedalling and, for less than the cost of a pastry, you can buy a useful map showing waymarked cycling circuits. The path alongside the canalised Sèvre Niortaise from Magné to Coulon was a good introduction to the natural treasurers of the area. Reaching tourist-welcoming Coulon’s whitewashed riverside buildings with rustic shutters we wound through the streets to the main square and people watched over a coffee.

From Coulon we snaked along lanes and tracks through countryside where storks moved stealthily across mown fields and kites wheeled behind combine harvesters. Between Coulon and Irleau is a raft of waterways only accessible via tracks and dinky arched bridges. This landscape has been managed for agriculture for centuries and the aquatic labyrinth of conches, or narrow channels, only accessible by kayak or a local flat-bottomed boat, drains into the Sèvre Niortaise. I had to stop myself photographing every view along a stream luxuriantly overhung with trees or a boat tethered to the bank alongside an isolated cottage, as each seemed better than the last. We cycled on dazzling white tracks between meadows and unhurriedly watched a herd of drowsy cows. Cattle egrets prowled around their soft bulky bodies, occasionally stopping and appearing to look deep into the vast depths of a cow’s eye.

An Unexpected Hill

I had expected a fen-like flat landscape but somehow we always found a hill. North of Coulon on the Number Seven Circuit the green waymarkers were camouflaged among the green roadside vegetation and we were soon on the wrong lane. Backtracking, we honed our detection skills at junctions as we hunted among bushes for the signs. Climbing a gravel track in the heavy heat of the afternoon, golden wheat rippled in a breath of wind as we sweated by like slow versions of hill-climbing Tour de France cyclists. Stopping at the summit we could see across the sweep of the Marais Poitevin to the tower blocks of Niort. Descending to the Sèvre Niortaise we envied the young people frolicking in the cool water after school and watched a working boat negotiating a lock before tackling the pleasant stretch of towpath back to Magné’s handsome lifting bridge and attractive tree-lined square overlooked by a squat stone church.

On Sunday morning Magné’s square bustled with a lively second-hand clothes market and we joined the shoppers looking for vintage bargains. Later that day in Coulon we ate our picnic on a shady bench by the river, next to the easels of a group of artists. While the painters enjoyed their long and convivial French lunch we discreetly admired their artistic impressions of the view.

Whatever Floats Your Boat

On our last day in the Marais Poitevin we put together our own greatest hits, joining up our favourite paths in an ultimate cycle ride. Our first stop was for coffee in La Garette, a wall-to-wall attractive village where houses with sun-bleached shutters jumble together along the main street. Our genial waiter wanted to practice his English and we gamely struggled to identify the words among his strong accent, but were grateful when he was distracted by a couple arriving on a flat-bottomed boat with a guide wearing a hat festooned with flowers.

By the afternoon the heat was smothering as we hugged the shady paths lined with pollarded trees and fragrant flowers, finding any excuse to rest. At La Sotterie we crossed the Sèvre Niortaise and followed it back to Coulon where groups of school children in matching baseball hats were chattering as they climbed into boats. I noticed the flower-hat guide paddling sedately by, not even breaking a sweat.

Once the Marais Poitevin has seduced you, you won’t want to leave and will certainly return, or maybe that is just me!

We stayed at Camping Le Martin Pecheur. This is a small French basic site, just a short distance from the town.

Santé! Cognac & Jarnac: Here’s to Cycling & Drinking

Les Lapidiales sculpture park

Driving from Îlé de Ré and Cognac we pulled into Les Lapidiales, a sculpture park in a former quarry. Still being added to, if you are lucky you might see one of the artists at work as they chisel imaginative and fantastical images from rock faces and boulders. We walked among figures, massive stone heads that peered from overhangs and hidden mythical creatures. The newer carvings were brilliant white and the greenery on the older sculptures mirrored the surrounding forest. Many of the works made an impact but the barefoot woman boldly looking back as she climbs a staircase into the rock particularily spoke to me, as the woman’s eyes seemed to say, ‘Follow me!’

A bewitching sculpture at Les Lapidiales

Cognac: City of Taste

Like many people, for us Cognac conjures up the world-famous spirit and exploring the city it was clear it leans on this beverage’s reputation considerably. There is, however, more to Cognac and we were here because La Flow Vélo, a 290 kilometres (180 miles) cycle route, follows the River Charente through Cognac.

Leaving our bikes near the riverside Cognac warehouses we walked through the city gates and climbed streets of polished cobbles that gleamed in the sunshine. In the city centre elegant squares and handsome houses festooned with sweet-scented roses oozed taste and prosperity. We had coffee in the square and bought fresh bread and cheese for a picnic lunch by the duck pond in the central park.

Walking among the Cognac cellars in the afternoon heat we spotted the familiar names of Hennessy and Martell and I was soon intoxicated by the alcohol-rich air. Tempted into a bar we sipped elegant glasses of Pineau des Charentes Blanc, a heady aperitif of white wine and Cognac that immediately became a firm favourite.

Jarnac and a Cognac Tour

We planned to stay a few days in Cognac to make the most of the cycling but that evening the campsite suffered a plumbing incident that flooded the shower block and there was no hot water! Undeterred, we moved our campervan the next morning just half-an-hour upstream to Jarnac, still on La Flow Vélo. In France, no one bats a Gallic eyelid when you arrive at a campsite at ten in the morning and we were soon bowling along the Charente on two wheels.

The mainly traffic-free riverside paths and tracks through woodland, meadows and vineyards were blissful and easy cycling. We sat on a bench looking over the clear water of the Charente having lunch while red kites soared overhead, a deer peaked through the trees and swallows skimmed over the water hunting insects as a kingfisher streaked by.

From the leafy edge-of-town campsite we could stroll into Jarnac across a breathtakingly picturesque quay with locks and watermills, or potter around the adjacent island park and nature reserve alive with dragonflies. In the small shopping area we bought delicious French pastries and scrumptious handmade chocolates shaped like cobble stones.

Among the streets of typical Charente houses was the family home of the station master whose clever fifth child, François Mitterrand, was French President from 1981 until 1995. The pinacle of Jarnac’s elegance is the extravagant riverside Maison Courvoisier built in the 19^th century Parisian style. There are a number of Cognac houses in Jarnac but Courvoisier has centre stage and an English tour the next day was a fitting finale to our time in this region.

Cycling before drinking Cognac was sensible and the next morning we pedalled southeast along La Flow Vélo to Châteauneuf-sur-Charente. The Charente sparkled in the sunshine and the cycling was almost effortless as we followed tracks connecting rustic farmhouses. A short climb raised the heart rate and swung us away from the river to Bassac, a charming village of stone houses and a former Benedictine monastery.

Back in Jarnac, our Courvoisier guide spoke excellent English, impressed us with her knowledge of British novels and shared our passion for the Lake District. She led us into shadowy rooms stacked with barrels where I savoured the fiery aromas of maturing Cognac, each cask chalked with its pedigree. Courvoisier’s logo is a silhouette of Napoleon Bonaparte and the story is that Napoleon took several barrels of Courvoisier to his exile on Saint Helena.

As our guide described the soils and the Cognac year, we learnt about the local grapes and the complex blending process to produce consistent quality. The tour finishes with a tasting of three different Cognacs, beginning with the VS (very special) Cognac served in a long cocktail. The neat Cognacs were poured reverently into tulip-shaped glasses to intensify the bouquet. After the VSOP (very special old pale) we finished with the XO (extra old) which came with a square of dark chocolate and had an intense rich flavour of earthy dried fruits.

We left with new respect for Cognac, the drink and the area, and a new favourite aperitif in pineau des Charentes blanc.

We stayed at:

Camping de Cognac – a great campsite (when they don’t have a water problem) not far from the town centre.

Camping L’ile Madame – a green campsite only 10 minutes walk from the town and quiet out of season.

Both were offering discounts with the ACSI card when we visited.

Île de Ré: Perfect Camping & Cycling

Cycling towards a storm on the Île de Ré

Exploring the Île de Ré

The Île de Ré, on France’s Atlantic coast, had been on my must-visit list for as long as we’ve had a campervan. Photographs on social media of the network of traffic-free cycle lanes on a low-lying and beautiful island tempted me, so my expectations were high as we crossed the elegant arched bridge that joins the island to the mainland at La Rochelle. At just 30 kilometres long, rarely more than a few kilometres wide and almost flat, it didn’t take us long to reach our chosen campsite on the Île de Ré and already we had spotted throngs of cyclists. I felt as if the toll bridge had sneaked in a trip through a space-time portal and we had been swept away to the Netherlands!

Based near central La Couarde-sur-Mer, we quickly settled on our hedged pitch and exchanged smiling nods with our Belgian neighbours. We studied the cycling map we had been given by the polite receptionist and my fingers excitedly followed cycle paths heading to every point of the compass.

Saint-Martin-de-Ré

Our first excursion took a path that hugged the coast to the town of Saint-Martin-de-Ré. The tailwind propelled us like flying machines but highlighted the only downside to cycling on the Île de Ré; the breeze sweeps off the Atlantic and a headwind is hard to avoid. Those social media posts never mentioned the daily battle with the wind!

Crossing the moat into Saint-Martin-de-Ré we admired the herd of Poitou donkeys. These special donkeys have a shaggy coat that takes the uncombed look to the extreme and they are adorable. Entering through the monumental Porte des Campani we found ourselves inside a fortified enclosure, designed to protect the residents from siege. Narrow cobbled streets lined with handsome ivory-coloured houses, each trimmed with eye-catching shutters, led to the harbour. Roses arched over doorways and self-seeded flowers poked through pavements; it is literally wall-to-wall attractive.

Securing our bikes we drank strong French coffee at a pavement café overlooking the boats while chatting to an English couple in search of an oyster-focussed lunch, a local speciality. We pointed them in the direction we had come as we had passed several oyster bars. The extent of the harbour fortifications suggested the Île de Ré was once strategically important, but it was the aerial view when we climbed the steep narrow steps to the top of the Saint-Martin bell tower that laid out the town’s defences most clearly. I took photographs of the town’s red roofs that contrasted prettily with the deep-blue sea. Carefully descending I flinched as the bells loudly boomed the hour.

Salty excusions

Over the coming days, the winding paths though the Île de Ré’s salt marshes unrolled before my wheels revealing new panoramas. We pedalled around mudflats that changed with the ebb and flow of the sea; shallow pools that are managed to produce salt from evaporation and marshland packed with a disarray of colourful wild flowers. There were so many excuses to stop and take in the natural beauty our progress was never fast! At salt producers’ stalls we propped up our bikes and dithered over which salt to buy before popping coins in the honesty box. We halted often to watch graceful avocets and long-legged black-winged stilts on the pools and admire the swifts that performed acrobatics overhead. One afternoon a gecko crossed our path, scurrying into the grass and a tiny rabbit huddled as cyclists raced by.

Cyclists need food and drink and these were another excuse to rest. A café in Ars-en-Ré provided good coffee and a bonus was the treasure trove of memorabilia inside, including a collection of oars arranged in the shape of a fan on the ceiling. Stumbling upon weekly markets we meandered through the colourful and tastefully arranged stalls that sold everything from bread to soap and fresh vegetables to sunhats.

An area of forested dunes that sheltered us from the usual breeze was a perfect picnic spot. While we ate I took deep breaths to get the full benefit of the sharp woody scent of the pine trees. Beyond the woodland the tall Phare (lighthouse) des Baleines became visible. This turned out to be a tourist hotspot with rows of busy restaurants and shops and we bought creamy pistachio ice-cream that was exquisite sustenance for two hot cyclists.

Picturesque villages

Climbing out of the ‘van to get our breakfast bread I noticed the calm; the usual breeze was taking a day off. After a cycle trip along a lane lined with plush white bungalows shaded under umbrella pines to the supermarket and a long French-style lunch, we set off for a short cycle ride to Loix. From the salt marshes, we crossed a narrow bridge to Loix’s attractive and sheltered port. If we had noticed the looming dark clouds we would have stayed in this safe haven. As it was we were cycling along an exposed stretch of coastline when a squall rushed across like a wet puppy, drenching us before we could reach the inadequate shelter of a hedge until the sun returned.

The scattered villages of the Île de Ré punctuated our cycling trips. The island is busy in high season but in May the winding narrow village streets, tightly packed with impossibly lovely white cottages trimmed with shutters painted ice-blue or sage, are sleepy backwaters. The labyrinth of streets was often confusing but by aiming for the church spire we usually found a square with a café, grocery shop and a stylish homeware establishment. The distinctive steeple in Ars-en-Ré is visible for some distance. It is painted black and white and served as a landmark for sailors before the lighthouse was built.

Île de Ré is an island of two halves. The salt pans dominate the north and west and in the southeast forest and agriculture separate the villages. Between Le Bois-Plage-en-Ré and Sainte-Marie-de-Ré we cycled around rows of potatoes, dodging the sprinklers. There were grapevines and meadows dotted with bright-red poppies that led to a forest trail deep with pine needles that crossed the island to the seaside at La Flotte.

In La Flotte we sat on the delightful promenade lined with benches overlooking an azure sea awash with boats. The village was buzzing with lunchtime diners as we wandered through. We continued to a peaceful ruined abbey, where the former cloisters have been transformed into a pretty garden.

Île de Ré had certainly not disappointed as a place to explore all that is fabulous about France by bicycle. If you don’t have your own, there are plenty of places to hire bikes on the island, including at our excellent campsite, La Tour des Prises.

Light and Shadow in Wharfedale

Grassington is always a buzzing village, but on our last visit the throng were in high spirits. A film crew were in town and the usual paved streets were covered in earth and shop windows had drab displays that lacked elegance and light. We learnt they were filming the latest All Creatures Great and Small, the cosy 1930s veterinary TV drama and time in Wharfedale was being wound back almost 100 years.

We stayed almost in the present, browsing the second-hand book shelves in the library for a couple of bargains and grabbing a coffee in a cafe with a 21st century coffee machine before climbing the hill out of the pretty, but hectic, village. We were focussed on completing a favourite walk that has open views over Wharfedale, a craggy hill, a scramble down [or up when we walk in the opposite direction] a dry gorge and numerous stiles over dry-stone walls.

We had started at the Caravan and Motorhome Club Wharfedale site, which is about a 40 minute walk from Grassington. We stay on this campsite regularly and it was an obvious place to use the free overnight voucher the club had sent to members.

From Grassington’s narrow streets we picked up the Dales Way [an 80-mile long distance footpath from Ilkley to the Lake District] on a track that soon opens out to grassy paths across the open moorland. It was a bright spring day and curlew were flying across the moor, their exuberant bubbling call making me smile and evoking memories of previous spring walking days.

The light was so bright it dazzled and the sun had that remembered warmth that gets lost in the dark of winter. A stiff breeze searched out gaps in our clothing, making sure we didn’t get sweaty and another walker wearing shorts had cold-red knees! Below us the River Wharfe’s green flat valley floor was dotted with stone barns.

Leaving the edge of the dale, the moorland is almost treeless, only occasional bushes and trees, still unclothed and baring their winter branches, have managed to avoid the sheep and achieve stunted growth from a gap in a limestone crag. The blue sky is cloudless and vibrant but the startlingly bright March sun washed out any colour in the grasses and rushes. The air tasted fresh and sharp and I breathed in deeply, trying to store the memory of it.

Skirting around the top of Conistone Dib, a dry limestone valley, we continued to Conistone Pie, a flat-topped limestone outcrop that someone once thought was shaped like a pie. In March the sun is still low and on the northern edges of the outcrop the rock created shadows but the south-westerly wind blustered around the sunny side. We circled the outcrop until we found a just-right spot for our lunch and sat with a view over Yorkshire.

After eating, we doubled back to descend Conistone Dib. This dry limestone valley was most likely formed by glacial meltwaters after the last ice age. Whenever we walk here I stop and shut my eyes, imagining the lively stream that once flowed over the crests of the now-dry waterfalls and became tumbling rapids. I can hear the pulse of the clear water as it falls over rocks. After a grassy and less steep section, Conistone Dib narrows and it is even easier to imagine the long-gone waterfall funnelling into the narrow channel, eroding a plunge pool before carving a deep twisting gorge through the limestone. The sun glanced over the gorge and we were walking in shadowy blue depths. Then suddenly, we emerge from Conistone Nib and are once again bathed in bright sunshine as we walk through the village and over the River Wharfe.

We stopped for drinks at the cafe by the fishing lakes and shared a cake. We were looking across to Kilnsey Crag, the limestone overhang that is another glacial remnant. Our final climb of the day was up the track to Kilnsey Moor. The grassy path that cuts across to Malham Moor always has lapwings in the spring and it didn’t disappoint. We followed the quiet lane back to the campsite enjoying the golden evening light after covering about 19km over around eight hours of perfect leisurely walking.

Blair Drummond Caravan Park, Scotland: Walks & Things to do

The short read – This is a tidy and peaceful campsite near Stirling and sitting in woodland just south of the village of Doune. With local walks and a farm shop and a castle nearby. it is perfect for a few days away in the ‘van.

We like the campsite and often use it as a one-night stop on the way north or south. Last time we decided to stay longer and explore the area.

The Campsite

Most of the pitches at Blair Drummond are within a sheltered walled garden. This was particularly welcome on our last visit as a gale blew across Scotland from the west. There are pitches around the outside of the walled garden too, but we have never tried any of these as we like the feel of the walled garden. The pitches are level and the hardstanding is surrounded by grass with tarmac roads around the site.

Everytime we have visited, the reception staff have been friendly, welcoming and helpful. They will give you a campsite leaflet with ideas for things to do and information about two walks, a long and short walk. It was this leaflet that inspired us to stay longer. Reception also has a small shop for basics and it is only a short way to a farm shop [see below].

The site has one facilities block. This is modern inside and kept clean. It is often wintery weather when we visit and we appreciate that the building is kept warm and the showers are good.

Things to do

The Short Walk – The campsite’s short walk through woodland will take you on winding paths through a woodland garden and eventually to the Smiddy Farm Shop, where you can grab a quick brew or lunch as well as buy good food. On our last visit we spent our first afternoon spotting spring flowers on this delightful walk. It was a sunny but blustery day and daffodils and primroses were emerging from the mossy ground. The route meandered among trees, up to an obelisk and around a cemetery.

Doune – This longer walk of around 9km is fairly level and easy. If you prefer to drive, there is a handy Park and Stride car park on the edge of Doune on the A84. The walk to Doune is mostly on tracks through the estate and takes you by Quarry Loch and the River Teith, with views of the castle. In the village there are a few shops and an information and heritage centre and the activities below. A stroll around the village might take you around the castle and over a stunning modern wooden bridge.

We are generally more informal teashop than hotel people but The Woodside Hotel advertised itself as unpretentious so we gave it a go. Even two scruffy campers were welcomed with a smile and this turned out to be a comfy place for coffee and scones.

Doune Ponds Nature Reserve, flooded gravel pits surrounded by woodland can be accessed from the Park and Stride car park, making it perfect for a stop and leg stretch on a longer journey. The reserve is taken care of by volunteers and there is a network of paths as well as benches for picnics and wildlife watching. Cross the A84 from the same car park and you can walk through woodland to the River Teith, opposite the distillery.

Doune Castle is certainly worth a visit. This solid castle was used for filming Monty Python and the Holy Grail in the 1970s and has been on our must-do list for years. At the entrance we were given an audio guide narrated by Python member Terry Jones. In his warm, comedic style Terry introduced us to the castle’s 14^th century builder, Robert Stewart, the First Duke of Albany and the power behind the Scottish throne for years.

Doune Castle doubled up for a number of locations in the film and, along with the history, Terry Jones narrates stories from the shoots, interspersed with clips from the film. We were soon reminiscing and giggling in a corner of the sunny courtyard looking up to the battlements where they filmed the scene of a guard insulting Arthur and Sir Galahad. Doune is also Castle Leoch in Outlander and there is an audio guide for fans of that TV drama.

Even without a film interest Doune Castle turned out to be one of my favourite castles to visit. The Great Hall is impressive and I could picture lavish and rowdy dining here. I’m fairly sure if I had been a medieval woman I would be a kitchen maid and the castle kitchen has an intimidatingly large fireplace, easily big enough to roast a small and inept kitchen maid! We both found the grooves in the stone where cooks sharpened their knives and puzzled over the unusual double fireplace in the Duke’s Hall while in our ears Terry Jones mused on whether this was an early version of the two-bar electric fire.

We finished in the gift shop, laughing to see they sold coconut shells, which must baffle anyone who hasn’t seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail!

Deanston Distillery – We haven’t visited this distillery but it has an interesting and unusual history. The 18th century buildings were originally a cotton mill, which closed in 1965. The owner saw the potential of the riverside position of the old buildings and opened Deanston Distillery a year later. Tours are available.

For more information about the campsite, visit their website.

From T-shirts to Woolly Hats around the coast of Eastern Scotland

Fans of dolphins know the best time to see them at Chanonry Point near Inverness is an hour or so after low tide when the dolphins follow the current, chasing the fish up the Moray Firth. It therefore wasn’t surprising that even in arctic conditions (I was wrapped up like Nanook of the North) we found a small crowd on the pebbly beach below the lighthouse. Among them was the Whale and Dolphin Conservation’s Field Officer and, knowing him from previous visits, we caught up while we shivered in the bitingly cold wind, constantly looking hopefully across the choppy water. ‘You can say you’ve seen The Black Isle turn white,’ he quipped as we turned around to see the fields above Chanonry Point dusted in snow. Our bone-chilling patience was eventually rewarded with an acrobatic and cheering display from five dolphins.

Scottish Gaming

Our Scottish trip had started in much warmer temperatures in the pretty town of North Berwick on the Firth of the Forth. It felt like mid-summer not late March when we walked to Tantallon Castle that sits dramatically on the cliffs near North Berwick. Skylarks fluttered high in the blue sky, joyfully singing their hearts out and seabirds were already bagging their spots on the cliffs below the castle’s stone walls. Shimmering in the blue sea was the volcanic island lump of Bass Rock, home to gannets,

In North Berwick we had more fun than I expected in the Scottish Seabird Centre thanks to an array of interactive games that are popular with children and adults who haven’t quite grown up! The games were challenging for a non-gamer and I was soon a hungry seal and a dead fulmar chick! There are more traditional exhibits too and watching the close-up film of flying geese I was mesmerized, feeling part of the flock. Used to seeing these birds high in the sky, witnessing the power radiating from their necks and wings was remarkable.

Fog rolled in that evening ending the unseasonably warm weather and lingered into the next morning as we left North Berwick. Driving down a narrow lane, a hare raced towards us hugging a mossy stone wall. Knowing how devastating it would be to hit one of these mythical symbols of good fortune we pulled in and watched the beautiful animal gallop by.

Wildlife Havens

It was chilly at Loch Leven RSPB reserve and we walked briskly between the hides around the pools. Despite the cold the birds seemed to sense spring was on the horizon and pairs of lapwings twirled in the air, their swanee whistle call reminding me of Sooty’s fun and accident-prone friend, Sweep. The noisiest neighbours, the black-headed gulls, mixed up their own raucous mating dance with swooping attacks at the swans. Unperturbed the male swans, feathers impressively puffed up, powered through the water in pursuit of nonchalant females.

The woodland uphill trail not only warmed us up but showed that Loch Leven has more than birds. A couple of adorable red squirrels bounded around the trees, a roe deer raced up the hill when it spotted us and another lucky hare crossed our path. From the top we had a birds-eye view over the reserve.

Sometimes a campsite immediately feels like home and Silverburn Park near Leven was one such place. The tree-lined entrance road opens out to a camping area with views across the golf course to the sea. Run by a charity, campers receive a warm welcome and as well as the beach, have the run of a delightful walled garden. While I eyed up the cakes in their café a biscuit-coloured cat with a deep purr rubbed around my legs.

Looking out the next morning there was a colourful sunrise and a flurry of snow which soon melted. In fresh weather we walked along the sandy beach to the charming seaside village of Lower Largo. Here creative and colourful gates and sculptures adorned with local scenes and seafaring themes brightened up the streets. In the opposite direction the beach took us to Leven. Returning through golf courses we had views across the Firth of the Forth with Bass Rock highlighted by the sun.

Fine and Dandy

Shopping for some essentials in Dundee we admired The Discovery, one of Scott’s ships displayed on the quayside, and stumbled upon the amusing and energetic Desperate Dan statue. The publishers of The Dandy and Beano comics were based in Dundee and a life-size Dan struts confidently across a square dragging his sidekick Dawg on a lead while Minnie the Minx is ready with her catapult.

Before driving to the campsite at Stonehaven, a favourite of ours, we stopped at Fowlsheugh Cliffs. Even this early in spring this crinkly coastline was packed with noisy kittiwakes, the birds balancing on the narrow ledges of their high-rise accommodation. Stonehaven campsite has fabulous coastal cliff walking, a castle and a picturesque harbour on the doorstep. An added bonus are the quirky metal sculptures of boats, planes and lighthouses that line the bay, but don’t take my word for it, if you’ve never been add it to your list!

The cliff path to Dunnottar Castle is packed with breathtaking views, starting with Stonehaven and its harbour. Spring weather had blown in and we stopped at the temple-like war memorial to take in the panoramic views that now included the towers of Dunnottar Castle that perches on a rocky outcrop above the sea. We’ve visited the castle before so returned through Dunnottar Woods where, judging by the profusion of tiny doorways, the fairies hang out.

Happiness Comes in Waves

Heading north, we were treated to the magical sight of a marsh harrier at Loch of Strathbeg. Parking at the ruined Rattray Chapel that overlooks the loch we had lunch watching the birds. The narrow road deteriorates after the chapel so we hiked the mile or so to Rattray Head, a remote and striking stretch of coast. Sand dunes sculpted by the wind and sea to form mini-mountains covered in spiky grasses that whispered in the wind led us to the beach. The tide was high and water surrounded the small lighthouse. Walking along the beach watching the waves and the cormorants we felt so lucky to have this spot to ourselves.

The sea stayed close at the Fraserburgh campsite and as warming sun streamed through the ‘van windows I was comfy watching the tides, the surfers and some hardy swimmers in the bay. Anthony muttered about salt and mud and made the most of the good weather to clean the worst muck off the ‘van. Later we strolled around the harbour packed with boats of different sizes and colours and watched scores of herring gulls skilfully wheeling through the air, amazed you never see them collide.

To the Lighthouse

The next morning the weather reminded us it was still only March as dark clouds obscured the sun and hail bounced off the pavements while we sheltered in a doorway before running to a café for coffee. Once the sun returned we made for the Scottish Lighthouse Museum, the highlight of which was climbing the spiral staircase of the disused Kinnaird Head lighthouse where from the light and gallery we had blustery views over the sea and Fraserburgh.

Later we walked along Fraserburgh Bay, a sweep of golden sand where children paddled in a shallow stream and gleefully raced up and down the largest sand dune. At the end of the bay we headed inland by a serene river and returned on sheltered paths between the dunes.

Back on the road we pulled in to Cullykhan Beach car park for a short walk by a stream that tumbles through a gorge to a delightful sandy cove. Beyond we could see the row of white cottages of Pennan. We have explored this north-facing coast between Fraserburgh and Inverness many times and I have happy memories of the beaches, cliffs and picturesque villages but there are still new corners to explore.

Tweet of the Day

A bumpy farm track took us to the car park for Troup Head where RSPB signs directed us to the cliffs where gannets nest. Graceful gannets always take my breath away. About as big as a goose, gannets are experts in elegance as well as being accomplished fishers. Close up we could see their heads were the colour of thick clotted cream and their fearsome-looking beaks were baby-soft blue. Huge-winged gannets soared below us, their throaty call filling the air and we watched others gathering clumps of grass for nesting.

We had never visited Lossiemouth so, as the weather cranked up for an autumn-like wet and windy storm, we pulled into the East Beach car park hoping to explore. In a break in the heavy showers we strolled around the harbour and the grid pattern of streets before battening down for a windy night in the ‘van. Always looking for the bright side, Anthony hoped the torrential rain would clean off some of the mud we had picked up during the day.

Culbin Forest and Nairn’s East Beach are so vast, even though we have visited before we were soon on unfamiliar paths through the fragrant pine trees. There is plenty of space for everyone here and even though Nairn isn’t far away we easily found quiet corners. Leaving the trees and dunes we reached the sandy beach and I spotted handsome black and white oystercatchers with their long orange beaks that are perfectly designed for probing mud. As they deftly flew along the tideline we grinned at each other as we heard their exuberant sharp calls.

Dancing Dolphins

If you’re lucky at the Rosemarkie campsite you will bag one of the pitches with an uninterrupted sea view. We were fortunate perhaps because everyone else had seen the wintery weather forecast and stayed home. It was bitterly cold and the next morning we once again woke to sleet. Undeterred, after breakfast we walked along the shore to Chanonry Point, the best land-based place in Scotland to watch dolphins. After our amazing dolphin encounter we thawed out in the ‘van and spent a cosy afternoon relaxing, eating and drinking, occasionally glancing up to watch the birds on the shore.

Before leaving Scotland’s east coast we had a date with our favourite pizza place north of Gretna Green. The sleety-snow had ceased but it remained chilly as we parked in the village of Cromarty. Whatever the weather pizza has to be earned and before ordering at Sutor Creek Café we had a brisk walk around the harbour, seafront and pretty streets.

The bonny Cromarty Firth was dotted with a bizarre collection of rustic (or rusting) defunct oil platforms. These strangely beautiful structures loom like industrial dinosaurs and contrast sharply with the picturesque cottages and attractive streets of Cromarty. Striding out along The Links we came upon The Emigration Stone, a tall artwork that commemorates the ships packed with people that left these shores for the New World. It is inscribed with the description of one ship’s bittersweet departure.

While our pizza cooked in the wood-fired oven at Sutor Creek we enjoyed the warmth of the café and chatted to the chefs about the oil platforms. They told us some locals complain but others have become so accustomed to them they’re almost invisible! We ate our pizza back in the ‘van overlooking the firth and it was as delicious as expected (my mouth is watering just writing this).

We have been to Scotland more times than I have fingers and toes to count on so it is remarkable that we still find new and awesome sights to see, but then it is an outstanding country. As usual we experienced every season but there is no doubt we will be back again for pizza and dolphins and so much more.

North Ledaig Caravan Park, Scotland: Two Walks from the Site

North Ledaig Caravan Park north of Oban in Scotland is a popular campsite. For us it has good and bad points but we made the most of a couple of nights here, leaving our campervan onsite and walking from the site.

The Campsite

This is a large site with different areas for Caravan and Motorhome Club members and non-members. This isn’t a club site but it is affiliated. The site slopes down to the coast and many of the pitches have a sea view but you have to deal with the tilt, unless you carry large levelling blocks. There are some pitches that are level, often tucked away without a sea view. Pitches are allocated by the site, and, as we found, changing the pitch you have been given is more of a palaver than it really should be.

There are two facilities blocks, one in the centre of the site and one by reception and the shop. These are both kept clean and have modern showers that are okay.

As well as the sea view and colourful sunsets, the disused railwayline that is now a cycle path and runs through the site is the other big plus at North Ledaig. This is part of the Caledonia Way from Campbeltown to Inverness. It is a mixture of road and traffic-free cycling. Most of the 49-mile section between Oban and Fort William [the stretch this campsite sits on] is on this disused railwayline and it is a fairly level route with fantastic views.

A Walk around the Lanes – approx 8km

This is an almost completely flat walk. We turned right on the cycle path and walked down to North Connel on the traffic-free route. Crossing the main road, we took the lane through Black Crofts and around the shore of Loch Etie. We were walked around the Moss of Achnacree and caught glimpses of the heather moss occasionally through individual houses and we could gaze along Loch Etive. This is a residential road with houses of different ages and sizes and there is some traffic. It became quieter once we turned onto the straight road back to North Ledaig. A signed along here warned us about red squirrels and sure enough, one bounded up a lane towards us and scampered under a fence into the trees.

Walk up Beinn Lora – approx 9km

With a sunny day forecast, we decided to climb Beinn Lora, a small hill that overlooks the campsite. It is only 308m high but being on the coast it is a marvellous viewpoint. This time we turned left on the cycle path to Benderloch, which is only 1.5km from the campsite. We were disappointed that the lovely café here closed on Mondays and Tuesdays so we took a flask. From Benderloch we climbed steeply through the woodland on well-made paths with regular picnic benches and viewpoints. We could look down on the coast and see the rows of caravans and motorhomes at North Ledaig below us, as well as the runway of the hardly-used airport.

Stopping for coffee and an early lunch on the last picnic bench, we had views north over Benderloch to Morvern. Walk Highlands suggested the final push to the summit can be boggy but it was okay on our September walk. On the open hillside of rock and short wet sections, skeins of geese flew over honking enthusiastically. From the rounded trig point we could see Ben Cruachan and along Loch Etive and laid out below was the moss we had walked around the day before. It was clear enough to see over Lismore and across to Mull and in the distance were the Paps of Jura. For effort vs reward, Beinn Lora tips the scales very much towards reward. We returned to the campsite the same way.