Saturday, and we trundled up the slightly hairy road to leave Rosie in the shade at Glen Affric as we strolled the ten miles around Loch Affric.
It was a lovely day, if it hadn’t been for the showers, which were just enough to stop us taking our waterproofs off. I did have to par down the layers underneath, but that’s what layers are for. The scenery is beautiful and the path good, but David was disappointed at the lack of wildlife. There were plenty of cuckoos giving it laldy and a dozen or so sand martins at the head of the loch giving a tremendous display as they swooped low over the water.
We crossed the bridge here and took shelter behind a couple of lock ups, presumably belonging to the small croft. Lunch was consumed between showers.
It had become very apparent that everyone we met, twenty walkers, two cyclists and three dogs, were going in the opposite direction. The last two, who looked as if they may have been Challengers, passed us as we left the croft. We didn’t see another soul.
Just around the corner, David got to see more wildlife. A stag, albeit a dead one by the side of the path. The path was still clear, but narrower and more lumpy. And decidedly more wet!
There were burns to ford, although most were a mere hop and a skip. According to our instructions, there was a burn to ford that ‘could be tricky’, followed by another which had been bridged. Such a burn was duly met and was indeed a little tricky and another bridged by sturdy planks. Imagine my disappointment when we came across another angry burn in full spate, that was even trickier to ford! There were definite tracks up and down the burn where other poor souls had tried to find a crossing that suited them.
I was not a happy bunny, but with a lot of encouragement and a good strong arm, I made my way across. I was happier when I got to a rock large enough to take my bum so I could shuffle from rock to rock and feel quite in control. It’s the rushing water, it unnerves me! There soon followed another burn, with a wooden bridge. C’est la vie.
When we got back to the car park, Rosie was waiting for us, ready to whisk us away to our next campsite. We had planned to use Faichemard campsite, but there were no pitches with hook up left, so we back tracked to Fort Augustus to Cumberlands campsite. Interesting site, brand new toilet/shower block, but with no mirrors, some toilet cubicles with no paper dispenser and no curtain or screen between the shower and the back of the cubicle where you’ve just neatly stashed your clean, dry clothes and shoes. Fun.
Anyway, it was quiet, there was electricity and thus warmth, but it got very, very dark.
And Rosie made a friend! We parked next to (leaving a respectable distance) the other VW campervan on the site. She was even older, but they made a nice pair.