Highland Ramble, Day 1 ......

in which we just manage to cross the Highland Line and collapse, exhausted (or we will when we find out how to turn the heating down) ......

Here we are in the Trossachs, in a Tardis camper van, which unlike Dr Who's, looks much bigger on the outside than it is on the inside, and which chugs along at no more than 50 mph, unless we happen upon a dual carriageway (unlikely around here).

 I feel a certain sense of 'my time has come' - after years of following/meeting head-on such as these  on single track roads.

The Highland Line, btw, roughly follows the line of the Great Glen. Whisky made north of it can call itself Highland, otherwise it's Lowland. 

We should be celebrating the start of our holiday with a wee dram, but a nameless person forgot to bring the Bowmore (and it's an Island malt anyway), so  red wine from a plastic beaker it has to be. Slainthe!

It was rather dark by the time I managed to take a picture. Although the sky looks threatening, the forecast is for a good day tomorrow :-)