Try a little kindness...

Over the many years of caravanning, the husband and I have come across many different people managing the sites we choose to visit.  Most of the wardens (sounds like a prison when I say that!) are really lovely, but none have been as helpful as Gordon who is our current warden at Kinlochewe.  He has been so informative, and has suggested many walks over our last few days, as we have decided to stay closer to home until the next exciting stage of our journey kicks off  on Monday.

'We are heading off to Torridon today', said the husband as we stopped for a chat with Gordon on the way out.

'Ah now.  If you're going to Torridon, you've got to stop and say hello to Callum. His family kicked him out when he got hit by a car, and what with the old arthritis, he now spends most of his time in Torridon carpark nicking food off the tourists'.

Nodding politely (well, you wouldn't want to upset Gordon) we headed off to Torridon to seek out who we had now renamed the Carpark Picnic Nicker. 'He's not having my Haribo', said the husband.  'I don't care how nicely he asks'.

So we turned up at a rather busy carpark.  Probably the busiest place (other than bloody Loch Ness) that we have seen all the time we've been here. Finally managing to find a space, we looked across to the small crowd of people with cameras.  Was the old boy doing a Highland Fling with his one good leg, or proving the truth of what was worn under a kilt?

No.  It turns out that Callum is a rather handsome red deer who has learned that not biting the hand that feeds is a jolly good idea.  A chap from the nearby Deer Museum pops up every day and leaves him food, and apparently, he's rather partial to a banana (aren't we all).  I stood about three feet away from him and with an outstretched hand, offered him the remains of my Granny Smith.  

Seems he's more of a Pink Lady fan...