On a glorious family holiday with teens who know it all

Time to pack the Jenga Bus again – never to be mistaken for the Venga Bus although I agree some dodgy tunes get banged out and we do like to party, however this is rural Perthshire. Standards must be adhered to and decorum upheld.

At least until we settle the bill. And can anyone please explain the annual phenomenon where items packed into a case at the beginning of a trip grow exponentially, without being worn once, a few days later when it’s time to move on?

We are bound for a spot I adore in the Highlands. I cannot understand why someone wouldn’t love the wilds of Scotland other than himself. Just because he was previously dragged round the Outer Hebrides in a motorhome in the driechest April ever. Who knew non-stop torrential rain and high winds weren’t on his list of holiday ideals? A decidedly human-like Eeyore complete with his very own raincloud. His legendary patience and sense of humour tested beyond capacity. I’m now very aware his favourite thing about motorhoming around Scotland is staying at home.

Fortunately we were to be spoiled by a holiday home looking directly out over Loch Morar, some Caribbean-style sunshine and clear blue seas. We just had to get there because I had planned a few things on the way. First a pit stop at the infamous Green Welly Stop where we were joined by the entire UK population congregating in a car park resembling a scene from Wacky Races. Snacks were distributed equally and we set off for Glencoe.

Any advice regards going up the hills in Scotland was utterly ignored by teens who naturally knew better. How lucky are we that every time we tell our kids something they respond with ‘I KNOW!’ It’s like we’re living amongst geniuses. The lovely chap promised to slow down the chair lift but subsequently didn’t. The cad. I am built for comfort not speed but we managed and headed on up intact. I ask himself if I should worry the most precious things in our lives hang off the seats in front. Just another moment sent to remind us parenthood is really about accepting the fact we will be permanently worried for the rest of our lives. He just laughs and attempts to hold my hand, peeling my white knuckles from the bar one finger at a time. The chap at the top didn’t slow it down for us either, and we arrive in a less than gracious fashion. Cast your mind back to that wonderful dance troupe The Roly Polys and you get the gist. Thankfully, there isn’t anyone around to see and we slowly headed up the nearest, gentlest summit. We were momentarily on top of the world.

The silence was glorious, the view stretched on forever and granny even sent us a fantastic “flat” rainbow for us to enjoy. The rainbow should have been a warning sign for the subsequent downpour. One of us used the infamous “flat on your back” method to descend. I won’t tell tales but let’s just say it may have been one of the teenagers who knew better than to wear her walking boots and chose a pair of Converse instead. Pipe down Smug Mum, we’re on holiday remember?

Time for some pre-booked fun. Still soaking wet, they went tubing. As they dragged inflated inner tubes repeatedly up a dry ski slope just to wheech straight back down, still in the pouring rain, I encouraged from the comfort of my heated car whilst eating the KitKats. All dried off and defrosted, they bundled back into the cars and we headed down through iconic Glencoe towards Fort William. Were it not for clouds and pouring rain they might have been able to admire the moody views. Instead they decided to count how many VW vans there were on the road. That didn’t get old quickly at all.

Safely ensconced in our next lovely spot, the debate over who was sleeping where was closely fought and only just won by biggest kid. Uno/Mario wars were battled. BBQs cooked. Midges swiped. Loch Monsters hunted. Whales watched. Harry Potter trains spotted. In essence, three glorious days without reminders of pandemic, school or work worries. Trying to ignore the new normal waiting for us when we get back.

The Duncan family enjoying Glencoe before the torrential downpour.