Assynt Log #3
- hiking scotland
Have I mentioned that Assynt is one of the most beautiful areas of Scotland? Along with Argyll, it definitely makes my personal top three.
We wake up in Ullapool to another bright day with lovely views over the bay with little sailing boats and the hills in the background. I have fried eggs for breakfast, and free bread that someone left behind - the perks of staying in hostels.
We take our time, pack up, have a stroll through Ullapool and then stock up at Tesco for our home for the next few days, in Scourie. We drive to Stac Pollaidh, another iconic mountain, but then decide against climbing it and have a leisurely beach and coffee day instead.
We visit Achiltibuie for a coffee, a scone, and brownies fresh from the oven. We walk barefoot on Achnahaird Beach, and get petrol in Lochinver. This place is so small, that we have to wait for the lady from the grocery shop to come over and take our money, as she mans the shop as well as the petrol station across the street.
Driving up north we cross Kylesku Bridge and stop for some views. When we finally reach Upper Badcall, near Scourie, we follow a long and winding single-track road along the shore of a sea loch until the end, where we see two mobile homes next to a house. This is where we are staying for the the next few days.
We meet Rocket Ron, our host, who lives in the house. He has a parcel for me, how unexpected! Since Kat made the booking, and the parcel was addressed to me, he had no idea who it was for and opened it. He says it’s two bottles of whisky, chocolate, and a love letter. It’s from Daniel! I must have mentioned to him where we were going, but he must have done some research to find the address. A nice surprise indeed.
Ron shows us the mobile home and promises to be back later to drink the beer we got him, and to show us how to turn on the gas fire. When he comes back he stays for two hours and entertains us with his stories of an encounter with a tiger in the Sierra Nevada, a ghost with no legs, his career as a thief of Victorian fireplaces, a mannequin in an attic that scared the shit out of him, and how Schwalbe named a mountain bike tyre after him.
We wake up in Ullapool to another bright day with lovely views over the bay with little sailing boats and the hills in the background. I have fried eggs for breakfast, and free bread that someone left behind - the perks of staying in hostels.
We take our time, pack up, have a stroll through Ullapool and then stock up at Tesco for our home for the next few days, in Scourie. We drive to Stac Pollaidh, another iconic mountain, but then decide against climbing it and have a leisurely beach and coffee day instead.
We visit Achiltibuie for a coffee, a scone, and brownies fresh from the oven. We walk barefoot on Achnahaird Beach, and get petrol in Lochinver. This place is so small, that we have to wait for the lady from the grocery shop to come over and take our money, as she mans the shop as well as the petrol station across the street.
Driving up north we cross Kylesku Bridge and stop for some views. When we finally reach Upper Badcall, near Scourie, we follow a long and winding single-track road along the shore of a sea loch until the end, where we see two mobile homes next to a house. This is where we are staying for the the next few days.
We meet Rocket Ron, our host, who lives in the house. He has a parcel for me, how unexpected! Since Kat made the booking, and the parcel was addressed to me, he had no idea who it was for and opened it. He says it’s two bottles of whisky, chocolate, and a love letter. It’s from Daniel! I must have mentioned to him where we were going, but he must have done some research to find the address. A nice surprise indeed.
Ron shows us the mobile home and promises to be back later to drink the beer we got him, and to show us how to turn on the gas fire. When he comes back he stays for two hours and entertains us with his stories of an encounter with a tiger in the Sierra Nevada, a ghost with no legs, his career as a thief of Victorian fireplaces, a mannequin in an attic that scared the shit out of him, and how Schwalbe named a mountain bike tyre after him.
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| Morning in Ullapool |
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| Near Kylesku Bridge |
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| View from our mobile home |
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