Life on the open road is not everyone’s cup of tea

Despite being more of a hotel girl, Fiona was looking forward to spending the summer travelling the Highlands in a campervan

The recent rain is heaven-sent. It means a welcome pause in the daily chore of carrying watering cans up and down the vegetable patch. But that does not mean that these downpours can continue. No, all we need are just a few hours of wet weather each week – and all will be fine, thank you.

Most of us have enjoyed a dry spring this year, which is strange. Because living in Scotland you get so used to the rain. It is odd and it is frustrating. Just think of all those tourists that might have come in search of sunny climes – had they been able to.

At the start of 2020 the chief and I came up with our own summer plans. We would travel to the Highlands and we would go in style – renting a campervan and taking the MacNaughties with us.

It would be a trial run, of course. Because life on the open road is not everyone’s cup of tea. The MacGregor is the man who’s tramped across Afghanistan and camped out in Alaska. He thrives on the great outdoors.

But me, I’m rather more a hotel girl. And preferably a nice one at that. Anyway, with the doggies getting older and increasingly reluctant to be left with others, we thought we would have a go in a motorhome.

So, I went and put down the deposit. I suppose I had visions of parking by a scenic loch and cranking up the barbecue. I thought of waking at dawn in some leafy glade, the birds singing and the air crisp and fresh.

It would have been idyllic… Or would it?

What probably would have happened would be the van starting to leak, the midges beginning to bite and the dogs running off, never to be seen again.

Then we would have found ourselves in a great queue with hundreds of other kings of the road, all of us heading for the hot spots. And when we got to these pretty places we would be no doubt moved on. Because I now know that you can’t just park up where you want.

This week I learned that wild camping is only allowed “when on foot, bike or some other non-motorised mode of transport”. Yet I can understand the attraction. Especially at this time. Folk are nervous of getting on planes. And who can blame them? If you have to sit at opposite ends of the bar in a hotel, how much fun will that be?

Pootling about on four wheels in an

I suppose I had visions of parking by a scenic loch and cranking up the barbecue... Waking at dawn in some leafy glade, the birds singing

enclosed space with your nearest and dearest human and dogs does sound rather more appealing.

And yet I feel for these unspoiled places, about to be inundated when the lockdown ends. Will we rebook once this is all over? I’m not sure yet.

In the meantime, we sit at home. Or rather, we move about at home. Which has its plusses. The garden is great – just look at the latest produce.