Welcome to Male in the Maldives as we sit and wait for our 5th leg of the journey (drive to the airport, bus from the car park, flight one to Qatar, flight two to Male and now the Seaplane to the speedboat).
We’re currently sat HERE waiting for the 1950s seaplane which is a 45 min journey before the speedboat to Maafushivaru
Below top left is the Business Class cabin on the first flight of 8 hours, top right and bottom left is Doha Airport at 0130 this morning waiting for the follow on flight of 4.5 hours bottom right.
Qatar food and service was exceptional, mind you we gotta slum in cattle class on the way back.
Well at least one of us likes to go a wandering. Mrs Fogg was in Hogg Heaven as she sets off map in hand advising the sheep which way to go, sorry just got to do it “ewe go left and ewe go right”.
There’s also a lovely picture of Llangollen (which appears to be the fave foreign destination for people from Liverpool).
And today we also took a trip up memory lane to Oswestry, Welshpool and Knockin (which has a little store called the Knockin Shop).
On the way out this morning Mrs Fogg advised me to “ignore the satnav, I’ve read a map, drive this way”. Unfortunately this was a single track road with 10ft hedges either side, a 60 degree incline with a T-junction at the end that had a 270 degree left hand turn up a slope. Rather unhelpfully Mrs Fogg got out to check for traffic and just stood flapping both arms in the air like a nutter being stung by a bee, rather than help guide the car out. It then took a 5 point turn to eventually get going in the right direction. Needless to say, we followed the Satnav back and Mrs Fogg didn’t try to correct it.
2 years ago we tried to come out to Llwnmawr but then this COVID thing hit. So Mrs Fogg and I managed to get a couple of days away to a beautiful little place and then the chance to go over the UKs tallest aqueduct
Yup almost that time when the rotund gentleman slips his tubby behind down yer chimney to offload a pile a swag from his big bag o tricks, snaffle yer mince pies n milk and then disappear for another year.
Well we are all lit up with 4,000 twinkly lights in the garden (yup another 200 batteries this year). And this year we even have a Santa and reindeer in the mix.
So have a Merry Christmas one and all and here is hoping you have an awesome time and stay safe and well.
Almost done now, as we trog from Glencoe via a very long and scenic route (toward Oban) and then down to Luss. More heavy rain most of the way and our last campsite as we clean up Mabel the MoHo to hand her back tomorrow and travel back home.
The weather has been dire most of the time, but hey with your house on your back you can trundle to somewhere else even wetter.
Beauly was very quiet with some amazing skies last night
And today we headed down past Loch Ness, being forced to wander round the Drumnadrochit Hotel which is where the Nessy bunkum started
On then through the glorious Scottish sunshine as seen in this wee video
Before heading to an alternate campsite. Mrs Fogg had booked a wee place which started a few alarm bells ringing (Tripadvisor reviews that the owners actively take rubbish out of the wrong bins and bring it back to you to tell you off, have reportedly had drones circling to check you ain’t being norty and also send you “7” page COVID Risk Assessment and Method Statement for you to adhere to, sounded delightful), so we ended up back at Invercoe Campsite again, with some impressive sunsets and weirdos with 15ft Gaudy Neon flashing poles to adorn their tatty caravan.
City of, well very little from what we encountered. Stopping about 12 miles up the road Mrs Fogg suggested we take the 1215 train from Beauly to Inverness, a simple journey, so off she pops to purchase tickets online, only to be advised once purchased that Beauly don’t got a ticket machine and you need to collect them from another station before you travel, great. Off then for the mile walk to the station only to find that the train is actually delayed by 41 minutes, getting better by the minute. So we sat waiting listening to a guy tell everyone he could cycle faster to Inverness (since he was taking his bike on the train) and that he was off to see his mum in hospital and he is ex military, yawn.
As we get closer to 1256 the display starts slipping the arrival to 1300, then 1304, then 1310 and then nothing, so Mr Army Cycle Man presses the help button to find out where the train is, “oh sir it is on its way, but those signs have a fault and always delete the next train”, “well I’m ex military and always carry my tools so could fix it for ya”. And then clunk as the operator hangs up.
On then to the train, now I ain’t been on one of these for 4 years and defo not in the current climate, but no social distancing, nuffin. Thank goodness it’s only 15 mins. And then Inverness
What can we say about the place, drab, dreary, dull and not appealing at all. It’s got an indoor market, a “castle” which is closed, some shops and a 90% empty shopping centre which according to Paul Blart the Mall Cop, “you’re not allowed to take photos” as he berated some poor woman wanting her to delete the picture she had take. So here you go Mr Blart, this next picture is just for you. Unfortunately our train back out wasn’t until 1715, so just how many times can you walk round the city in 4 hours (well you could get a coffee in the CBD Cafe, err no thanks).
Back then to the campsite and Mrs Fogg insisted we walk around the man made nature trail which apparently has badgers, red squirrels, otters, or in our case, NUFFIN, mind you with my beautiful stealthy Ninja by my side I am not surprised they didn’t hear us coming from a mile away.
The last night at Shieldaig saw us back at the little restaurant for an awesome cold local caught platter (prawns, crab, mussels, smoked kipper, smoked salmon and oysters. Oh Yummy, obviously finished off with pud and a couple o wee drams.
The area was hit with severe rain and wind overnight (nope not a fallout from the food, but more of a typical late Sept storm), with the MoHo taking a pounding for over 6 hours, we did wonder if there would be anything left
On then to Beauly through some wonderful scenery including Rogie Falls and the chance to see salmon trying desperately to leap over 4m to the top
And finally here at a campsite outside of Beauly for 2 nights with a rather spooky priory nearby.
We’ve also gone higher tech this year to avoid frantic hand waving from one of you while the other reversed the MoHo (and takes the bumper and lights off on a bolder) and we are now using walkie talkies, although Mrs Fogg’s directions leave a little to be desired “that’s it come back straight toward me over there to the other side and down a bit”, all very helpful with someone stood behind the van out of view.
It would appear the older you get, the more particular you appear to get about cleaning your vehicle. Sat here in Shieldaig between torrential showers, watching new campervans arrive, we watched an old couple arrive in this slightly dirty van, then spend an hour with a bucket and cloth wiping off every bit of rain and mud (even pouring boiling water on the steps and cleaning each one).
So a day and night of solid rain, stuff the BBQ, time to walk to the Shieldaig Bar and Coastal Kitchen for an evening of awesome food, drink and company. Mussels for starter, langoustine for main, cheesy chips and then a choccy pud, followed by a wee dram each. You know it’s been a good meal by how messy your table cloth is after and boy was Mrs Fogg’s table cloth a state
