High Hopes...

Well last weekend the family toddled off to Fuerteventura for a week's basking the the sun, eating cakes and generally having a Summer holiday. Unfortunately, being a grumpy old man and ginger means that such a trip away would be absolute hell for me - I know because it was last time, and the time before, so rather than spoil their fun - they went and I stayed. So what was a chap on his own to do? Yeah you've guessed it, get in his camper van and head for the hills. Van + Man + Mountain.

As it was just me, there was no need to rush, so I took a leisurely drive up through the Trossachs to Glen Coe.

The plan for the Friday was to head up Bidean nam Bain. Now this was the first time I had gone hill walking on my on my own so I was a little trepidatious. As it turned out I needn't have been so worried. The mountain was quite tame.

Intrepid explorer?

That's Ben Nevis that is.

The route down, once I was off the main ridge, took me through the Lost Valley where some people allegedly once hid some rustled cattle. Well that I think someone was pulling someone's leg there. It was a bit of a pain with two legs and proper boots. No chance with 4 hooves. It was a remarkably beautiful place though.

The raging torrent which was rushing down the valley was an amazing sight (no chance for hooved animals)

Picturesque river. Just before I fell in!

There's a Commer in them there hills.

Once I was back down, tired and very very happy, I headed back to the camp site for a well earned shower and bottle of Pinot Grigio - a perfect end to a perfect day!

The following morning it was time to head home, so obviously I took the long route via Oban and Loch Fyne, and of course the oyster bar - rude not to!

Old van in Oban