Wester Ross and Assynt
The Summer Isles
We saw one other Mazda Bongo on our Wester Ross and Assynt tour. Not surprising, given their age and apparent impracticality for such a challenging expedition. The same could legitimately be said about me. Three nights sleeping fitfully in a tiny camper van through howling gales and torrential rain, coupled with around 600 miles of driving at a snail’s pace up and down mountain passes, continually climbing in and out to take photographs - it’s probably a younger man’s game.
Was it worth it? You bet. What a country. What a place to call home.
The journey to Shieldaig for night one took in Fort William for provisions and the obligatory Nevis Range shots. We avoided the route through Glen Coe, not because it would not have been stunning on a sunny, snow-capped day, but because we knew it would be rammed with tourists during the final week of the Easter break. Instead, we chose the more benign, familiar, and almost deserted route north along Argyll’s beautiful coast. I always feel at home here.
The Nevis Range
Then it was on through Invergarry and towards the Kyle of Lochalsh and Skye, before turning north to Lochcarron and Shieldaig. The landscape twists and contorts upwards: spiky mountains, deep gorges, and deeper potholes. Our campsite was too exposed to break out the awning, so it was a walk to the pub for langoustine scampi, a pint, then back for a snug snooze in the packed camper van.
The drizzly morning saw us happily walking through the hills, with views across the turquoise loch to a huge sea eagle sitting sentry-like in the Scots pines. I had left the long lens in the van - this was strictly a landscape photography walk. Completely absorbed in the peaceful hills, we almost overran our campsite checkout time, calling for a swift yomp back to the Bongo and a farewell wave to the eagle.
Walking the hills around Shieldaig
The route from Shieldaig through Glen Torridon and the Beinn Eighe National Nature Reserve is breathtaking. It is difficult to adequately convey the scale of the mountain peaks with a camera from ground level, but there is no way I am making it up there without helicopter assistance. Kudos to those who can.
The convoluted coastal route alongside Loch Maree to Poolewe, then back past the mighty An Teallach and Sgùrr Mòr to reconnect with the main drag to Ullapool, is well worth the effort, if only to stroll on the perfect beach beside the sweet Little Gruinard River.
Gruinard Beach
Ullapool itself is always a pleasant place to stretch our legs, grab a bite to eat, and reconnect with civilisation before it was back on the road for the short-ish, dramatic pootle down the remote Coigach Peninsula. Past incredible Stac Pollaidh, stunning Achnahaird Bay, views of the Summer (ahem) Isles, and finally our destination: the Altandhu campsite. And relax.
The awning went up and even stayed up, despite the clattering it was getting during the squalls. The camper van was cosy, the pub cosier. We splashed about the landscape in our wellies, walked on the sandy beaches, and properly got away from it all. Truth be told, there was not much photography going on. This was more holiday than work.
The journey home was uneventful, wet, and fairly dull. We travelled from the far west coast to Inverness in the east, before returning to the west coast via the main roads along Loch Ness and the Great Glen. On the way, I found myself pondering the whole touring holiday thing. Whilst Mazda Bongos were a rare sight, we must have seen hundreds of VW camper vans: some as old as our wee Bongo, most sparkly £60,000-plus dream machines (jealous), as well as fleets of ubiquitous white motorhomes.
Our journey took in a fair chunk of the western NC500 route. I’m conflicted about promoting tourism with these labels as they tend to encourage the challenge of completion. Packs of boy racers in Porsches and Lamborghinis, and bikers egging each other on, weave between hired, tired camper vans and motorhomes. Viral tourism, as we have learned here in Lochgoilhead, can bring with it a runaway loss of control that profoundly affects the lives of local people.
Tourism shouldn’t be about completing anything. Respectful exploration of our landscape is an absolute privilege. Perhaps my future excursions need to be less about covering miles, and more about slowing down and photographing one place properly. There’s just so much to go at…
Suilven and the Coigach Peninsula
