Long (and wet) weekend

We were desperately looking forward to this long weekend. Strategically placed halfway (almost) between the summer and spring breaks – making for a rather short term at school – it was a chance to take a breath after the onslaught that was the arrival of S1 and the sheer bloody-mindedness of S2. So over the course of the previous weeks, we had resolved to see some more of Scotland – in particular we aimed to head for the Perthshire area and soak up a little of Pitlochry, and maybe head a little further north to take in the mighty Cairngorms, Scotland’s largest (not highest) mountain range.

Best laid plans.

We had aimed to borrow a tent from Katie, one of Lou’s colleagues down in FCT and frequent chauffeur on a Wednesday or Thursday afternoon. Unfortunately, not all went to plan, so I choofed off to the outdoorsy kinda store on Thursday afternoon (cutting it fine!) to see a bloke about a tent. They had a great deal – two man wee thing PLUS sleeping bags PLUS sleeping mats for £29.99. Bargain. But we already had sleeping bags. And would prefer an air mattress. And the tent looked a tad small. And they didn’t have any in stock. BUT, apparently the store in Perth – coincidentally on our way north – DID have plenty in stock. Why not pop in on Friday afternoon? Great idea! Thanks mate!

We always get ridiculously excited about ‘our weekends’, especially ‘our LONG weekends’, so Friday was like a holiday anyway really. In case I hadn’t mentioned it, Friday is a half day for schools in Edinburgh, and usually staff hang around afterwards and do Professional Development or whatever. Long weekends however, and the place is deserted by 1.00pm, so we jumped on the bus to go pick up our bargain car (£42 for three days – can’t go wrong) and set off to Perth to see another bloke about a tent.

Off we went. Hit the road jack. Prepared? Sort of. Probably not really actually, but we weren’t going far, and were only camping for three nights. Well, soon as we crossed the Forth Bridge, the rain came. Hadn’t rained for a week. At least. ‘Til now.

Didn’t stop ’til we got home.

The bloke(ette) at Millets in Perth was very helpful, it must be said. We found a cracker tent for half price that would sleep Lou, myself AND Cynthia reasonably comfortably if we decided to take it to Italy, plus we found an air mattress on sale, and a pump that works like a lawnmower – good arm workout and no bending over. We were stoked, and were not at all concerned about the rain – after all, we had already decided to use the tent TOMORROW night, and stay at Pitlochry Backpackers tonight, just to relax.

Lovely (wet) drive. Pitlochry is a beautiful, very cute town, and soon after we arrived we had bought some supplies and were cooking up a spicy fajita storm. The german couple (on their honeymoon, and both over 6 feet tall) we met we most impressed that we weren’t cooking pasta like the rest of the backpacking world – it seems we’re becoming quite adept at improvising delicious meals in hostel kitchens. A short stroll after dinner proved that the rain wasn’t the monsoonal drenching we had been afraid of, but merely a light drizzle – you know, the Scottish type – and we were confident that tomorrow would be clear and perfect for some touring and hillwalking.

Although Lou didn’t like the fact that she woke up at normal school time (and obviously it was my fault for keeping her awake after that…) we rose and shone and looked out the window – clouds around, yes, but promising. Surely it will clear up. We wish it to be so. Packed our bags, had brekky and set off to find our campsite – Ardgualich Farm, on Loch Tummel. Not on the web, but we found it in a book called ‘Cool Camping’ that was a great wee thing, but certainly not worth £15 (dirty looks from the Waterstones bookshop staff as I copied down contact details from it). On route to Ardgualich, it started to tinkle. A few drops – nothing worth worrying ’bout. Just shaking the cobwebs out.

It was ‘ken freezing at the farm. A superb view, beautiful area, but damn cold. Really cold. Around 4 degrees C (so said the car) – cold for September anyway. A few campers were already there, and the manager seemed a little amused that we would pitch on such a cold day. We found a site, met the neighbours, got chatting about all sorts of things and next thing we knew it was raining steadily and we had not yet pitched. Great. First time with the tent and we’re gunna pitch in the rain. Nice work Copeman.

The tent was great though (see pictures page) and we had it up in no time. Couldn’t stay around gasbagging all day though – the rain was obviously not going anywhere, so our plans (read: my plans) to scale the mighty Schiehallion nearby (The Fairy Mountain) would have to be abandoned – the peak was well and truly shrouded in mist, so not much point if we weren’t going to enjoy it. Fancy a drive instead?

I had hoped to drive out past Loch Rannoch to the Rannoch moors, one of the most remote parts of Scotland, in the sense that there is one road leading into the moors, and only a train station at the other end. Some of the landscape along the route was just beautiful – desolate, mysterious and often eerie, but hauntingly delicious. We stopped here and there, had a gander, snuck a peek at a few things and kept driving, eventually heading back to the famous Queen’s View on Loch Tummel, site of many postcard photos from Scotland. Here the rain mercifully abated for a few moments for us to enjoy an amazing view.

On we went to check out Killiecrankie Pass, a ravine that featured in the Jacobite uprising. Here we did have the opportunity for a wee stroll, and enjoyed the first changes of colour of the season – a lovely ravine and an easy trail were the perfect tonic for our drenched ambitions.

Time for tucker. We popped in at the campsite to check that our tent was still there, and started work on the double air mattress – always a joyous task, but worth it. This little pump was great in that there was no need to bend over, no need to stand up and crook my neck in the tent, but boy, was it a bicep workout! Had to put the task on hold for us to enjoy a local ale and delicious steak and ale pie at the Loch Tummel Inn, before heading back to the campsite to set up for the night.

The clouds weren’t going nowhere, so it was a wee bit warmer than the previous evening (apparently). We finished the air mattress only to realise that our preparations were indeed dire – the sun was setting and we had only one small torch, which turned out had flat batteries. Oh well, off to read in the car. Easy fixed. Aside from a lack of light, we slept very soundly indeed.

The next morning we awoke to find a very soggy campsite and a beautifully misty loch awaiting profuse photography. I obliged. Breakfast consisted of a piece of fruit each, and vegemite and cheese on a roll – remarkably good! The plan was to head north a wee bit and check out a walk or two in the Cairngorms, pitch at Rothiemurchus, and then head back early tomorrow. Small problem though – IT HAD NOT STOPPED RAINING ALL NIGHT. Very soggy. Dry in our spanking new tent, but outside, VERY soggy. Now let the record show that we are not tough Scots, we are not conditioned to continual rain, perennially soggy soil and well, just getting wet really. So as we ventured out after an efficient pack and farewell to Ardgualich (for now), we sought Lou a coffee – surely that would perk up the situation!

Obviously the expectations of the coffee and the reality of the instant dirt that was served did not align, and matters became worse. It is here I will certainly cut a long story short to say that we went home, slightly disappointed, but in reality, under-prepared and thwarted by the weather. The celtic rain gods must’ve been having a jolly good chuckle at our expense. So nuts to them. We’ll be back.

Rest of the weekend was lovely – relaxed, put some footage together, finally sorted out the DVD of our Russian campaign (Lubi will have a copy shortly if anyone desperately wants to heckle Scott’s DVD producing skills – or Lou’s camerawork for that matter ) and generally had a nice relax before back to school on Tuesday. Today is Wednesday. Of course though, it was Monday’s timetable. Tomorrow is definitely Thursday though.

Oh, it stopped raining on Sunday night when we got home. Right on schedule. Time to invest in some wellies p’rhaps.