Holidays – the stuff that memories are made of (hopefully)

Arriving in Mull we suddenly realised that we had a problem.  Not a physical problem you understand, more of a memory thing.  We know that we holidayed on the island with the children back in 1993, but neither of us could remember how we got here, most of what we did when we were here, or more that a few isolated fragments of what should have been a memorable holiday.  We remembered a bit about our accommodation, we remembered that Jennifer spent much of her time trying to befriend a family of feral cats under the building and we remembered that Richard was less than well when we went out fishing for mackerel – but the rest of the trip remains a mystery.  Hopefully our memories of this this trip will last a little longer.

Scallastle Farm, Diane and Nigel’s lovely new home which they share with a herd of Luing cattle (the farm, not the house), is just a few minutes drive from the ferry terminal at Craignure.  They (Di and Nigel that is, not the cattle) were perfect and generous hosts for our short stay, driving us hither and thither around the island and sharing their love and enthusiasm for their wonderful  island home. 

When you visit this part of the world at this time of year you have to cross your fingers and hope for decent weather – and for the first four days of our stay we had it.  Clear blue skies and bright Spring sunshine more than compensated for a slightly chill breeze and did justice to the stunning Mull scenery – and not a midge in sight.  Perfect! 

As I’m writing this we’re sitting in the van on Day Five with the rain hammering down, doing its best to compensate for the unseasonable sunshine that we’ve enjoyed since our arrival.  No matter, it gives me a chance to reflect on some of the highlights of our stay.

Speed Bonnie Boat ………

With only about sixty miles to drive from Luss to catch our early evening ferry from Oban to Mull we were able to make a relaxed start to the day and enjoy the scenic drive.  Once again the weather behaved itself and the glens and mountains looked magnificent with just a few traces of snow lingering on some of the peaks.

Along the way we paid a fleeting visit to the ruins of Kilchurn Castle on the banks of Loch Awe, which according to Wikipedia has the distinction of being the oldest surviving military barracks in mainland Britain – notwithstanding the current state of the Defence Budget I’m not sure that many units would fancy being quartered here. 

Interesting though the castle was, I was rather more taken with the old iron railway bridge that crosses the nearby head of the loch.
Arriving in Oban with time to spare we took a walk up to the impressive McCaig’s Tower which gives commanding views of the town and harbour and over towards Mull.  It’s a fascinating structure which was built around the turn of the nineteenth century, but for the life of us we couldn’t come up with a convincing reason for why it should have been built in the first place.

By the Bonnie, Bonnie Banks …………….

Leaving the lovely Peak District we wound our way through Macclesfield (site of one of the Ewbank ancestral homes) back towards the motorway and started the long flog north.  Despite a headwind of about 300mph we had good weather and relatively light traffic – both of which helped to make it a pleasant journey. 

As we were now a couple of days ahead of our original timetable we needed to find a stopover without straying too far off the motorway – after a bit of head scratching we remembered that about four years ago we’d overnighted at Hoddom Castle Campsite which is just over the border near Lockerbie and, despite the site being rather busier than we’d expected, they managed to squeeze us in for the night.  It’s a nice site, but we wondered quite what visitors from overseas would make of their spelling!
A short morning walk from the campsite up to the nearby Repentance Tower provided a more than adequate supply of fresh air and good views of the Solway Firth, both of which set us up for the next leg of the journey up to Luss on the western shore of Loch Lomond.  As we were still a day ahead of our schedule we were again fortunate that the campsite managed to fit us in for the extra day.

Repentance Tower
Repentance Tower – by the time you take up residence here its a little late to repent!

Luss is a pretty’model’ village, built early in the nineteenth century by the local Colquhoun family (who apparently own some 75,000 acres on the western side of the loch) for their workers in the local slate quaries; nice at this quiet time of year but I imagine it must get absolutely rammed during the tourist season.  The following day we cycled the 8 miles along the loch-side up to Tarbert – which I’m afraid to say had absolutely nothing to recommend it!

Biddulph Grange and a Night in the Peaks

It’s good to get out and about again.  Although this last winter hasn’t been especially hard, it does seem to have been a bit of a long slog.  So, this first trip of the year in the ‘van’ has been eagerly anticipated and we’re hoping that we’ll get some decent weather in which to enjoy our Great British scenery. 

We’re never stuck for interesting places to visit but I’m not sure that we’d have considered the Isle of Mull as a destination if Denise hadn’t received an invitation from her friend Diane who’s recently taken up residence there.  But I’m getting ahead of myself – we’ll get to that part of the trip later and no doubt have some tales to tell and pictures to show. 

Anyway, knowing that we’d be travelling pretty much past his front door I arranged some time ago that on the way north I’d drop the Stag off with Cliff Griffiths in Wolverhampton for it to be fitted with a new hood.  The old one was getting pretty tatty and the folding mechanism had become a nightmare, so I’m hopeful that by the time we call in to collect the car on our way back home it will be resplendent with a new roof and it will no longer be a three round wrestling match to put the thing up and down.

We’d originally planned to spend a couple of days on the way up with the family in Bramhall, but unfortunately the girls went down with bad colds and chest infections, so we decided to defer our visit and call in to see them on our way home.  So, with a couple of days to spare we opted to fit in a few visits, the first of which was to Biddulph Grange near Congleton.  The National Trust gardens have fairly recently been returned to something like their Victorian splendour and are themselves worth a visit, but I was also keen to see the house where my mother spent the first part of her nursing career in the early forties.  Sadly the house isn’t open to visitors and anyway much has undoubtedly changed in the eighty intervening years, but it was nice to establish a link with her past and to see something of what she experienced as a sixteen or seventeen year-old living away from home and family for the first time.


Leaving Biddulph we Googled a few local campsites and eventually ended-up at Berry Bank Farm at Wildboarclough just south of Macclesfield on the edge of the Peak District National Park.  A little bit on the basic side but perfect for our needs: cheap, scenic and not exactly crowded – in fact when we arrived we were the only guests (perhaps that had something to do with the fact that we were at 1,250 feet and it was blowing a hooley).  By the time evening came there was just us, 250 sheep and their lambs, three ponies and a young Polish couple who spent the first part of their stay trying to pitch their tent in a Force 8 gale – so we weren’t short of entertainment.