On the road again...

After our intrepid foray into the far north, we have spent the last couple of days a bit closer to home.  The husband loves to go on a 'magical mystery tour' which basically involves a few hours in the car with no map, so it's always a bit of an adventure.  I mean, for a start, as a woman of a certain age, the odd public convenience is always welcomed.  Up here in the Highlands, they have loo after loo in all the major stops on the NC500.  However, should you go off-piste, they tend to be very sparce, and I always say to the husband to look out for WC signs as we drive round.

This morning, the husband's first part of our 'tour' involved coffee and cake at Lochcarron.  This has rapidly become one of my favourite places in the Highlands, and many a happy hour has been spent in the caravan trawling through estate agent listings and reading them out to the husband.  I think I said before that however much I picture myself living here, it is but a pipe dream, but this place is beautiful, with a particular nod to The Waterside Cafe, their cheesecake, and the wallpaper in their loo (I'd had my legs crossed for twenty minutes by the time we pulled up outside).

We then headed out to Sheildag (my second favourite place) and over the scary Bealach na ba again.  I have realised that I don't tend to breathe when we go around the hairpin bends, and as the Waterside's coffee was now making its presence known, I had to hold on till we got to the loos at Applecross.  Now these loos are quite spectacular in that you have to pay 50p with a credit card to get in.  For some reason, my card has never worked, so the husband has to pay for my pee - something I like to remind him of on a regular basis.

We have seen a lot of deer today - these are the husband's absolute favourite, and he was thrilled to be able to get within a few feet of a stag by the loch.  I also love the deer, but the one animal we have yet to see is the red squirrel.  We've seen a lot of signs asking us to drive slowly in case one appears, and after three weeks in Scotland, I am wondering whether they actually exist.  We have spoken to several people about it, and the general comment we hear is, 'I've lived here thirty years and have never seen one'.  Or, my personal favourite, 'I 've lived here thirty years, and saw my first one last week'.  'Oh that's lucky', I said.  

'Not for the squirrel', the lady said.  'I ran it over'.

Another one not reading the signs then...