To say it got off to a bumpy start would be an understatement. Apart from the car going in to the garage 5 days before our departure – we had a few other issues to contend with.

We had been in the car 20 minutes when I realised I’d left the spending money at home. About turn. Money collected, toilet visited (again) and bottles of water gathered. The car was quite warm. We have only one working window and the dog gets that. He also gets the powerful fan I bought specially for the car. He seemed quite happy with that.

The drive to our destination is in two distinct parts:

Main road which was steady and picturesque….and picturesque but hellish.  This is, we have found, very common if you want to have a holiday not in a town; ‘Arse of Nowhere’ tours they should call them.

I knew the second part of the journey would be challenging but good grief – this was something else: bear in mind I’ve got 3 people, 1 dog and a LOT of luggage (including food for nearly a week). At times I struggled to get out of second gear on the climbs. Oh, did I mention we were in the mountains? Most of the drive is through mountains, with gorgeous scenery and a road that leaves you thinking, “this can’t be the way we’re meant to go”…..a lot.

Then there is the downhill. Steep. Sharp bends. And of course, single track. Ah, the single track road. The one thing likely to put the fear in any sensible driver’s heart. I’m a sensible driver.

Picture the scene, you are on a little road, going up a small incline. You have no way of knowing if someone is hurtling along to approach that from the other direction. You can flash your lights, in a hope the other driver, (assuming there is one), will see it and realise you are there. This doesn’t work with locals however. Yes, even in the back of beyond, there are locals. Those who drive these roads at speeds considered unwise at best, unsafe at worst. We encountered a few of these.

If you look up the A9 on Google Maps, look for ‘Calvine’ and you’ll see ‘Cycle Route 7’. Now follow the B847 road all the way down to Tummel Valley. Put the wee yellow guy on it and go for a drive! The name I had on my directions was ‘General Wade’s Military Road’ but personally, I couldn’t imagine any military making a road so difficult – I’ll need to look up the history of the place and see if General Wade was a drinking man.

I didn’t take pictures on the way down. No-one did. Dearest Son nodded off in-between shouts of, ‘check the map’. Stress levels were running high.

We were driving for what seemed like a loooong time and realised we hadn’t seen one sign-post for the place we were heading. Not one. Anywhere. Slightly alarming to be honest.

Every junction added more alarm, with shouts of:

“Which way?”

“Haven’t a clue”

“Check the map”

“It just says stay left”

“Not take the left?”

“No”

“Oh to hell with it, we’ll go left”

And on it went. A sign-post would have been very welcome.

We reached one part which had a space to park in, beside 2 signs – both pointing to places weren’t going. I tried to phone our destination with no luck (automated suggestions – none of which included: ‘Can’t find the place?’).

Dearest Hubby meanwhile hobbled out of the car and managed to flag down a car and ask for directions. He had made suggestions earlier to try this but I found no car will stop on these roads no matter how much you flash your lights at them.

Anyway, we were very close apparently.

Turned out they were right and eventually, we arrived at our destination. Stressed out, tired and even a bit angry but we’d made it.

I went in to get our key from reception. The lady used a pen to mark our route on a map, but to be honest, she did it very quickly and I didn’t follow. So I went back to the car with our welcome pack in hand.

“It’s just opposite here”, I relayed what I’d been told.

Turns out, there were 2 opposites. One was literally opposite the car and the other was opposite the building. Guess which one we took?

After realising we were in the completely wrong part of the caravan park, we tried the other opposite – and found our home for the week.

I gave Dearest Son the key so I could deal with Scooby, who had been excellent in the car, the whole way down.

We went in an explored the living room/kitchen – as did Scooby, who then promptly dropped one on the carpet. This was unusual because he never craps in the house at home!  

I’m pleased to say after that, he settled in well and adjusted quickly to his new routine of toileting on a lead and sunbathing beside me on the balcony. He even got used to seeing people next door, without having a meltdown which he hasn’t even mastered at home.

I think I will leave the saga there for now but will show you some of the photos we took during the week: