Independent overland travel through Africa in a Unimog called Moglet

According to anything we could find out beforehand, the whole north west corner of Scotland is completely devoid of campsites that are open during the winter. Not much of a problem in some respects as long as we drive each day, as that keeps the batteries topped up, but emptying tanks and topping up on fresh water can become an issue. We'd had a good look at the map and decided that, if we had to, we could skirt across the top and down the west coast far enough to reach a campsite we knew was open, in 4 days, which is easily do-able from a tanks perspective. It'd turn it into a much quicker section than we wanted, but you really dont want an overfull poo-tank and no way of emptying it!

To add some fun into the mix, Moglets diesel heater had been playing up and was no longer generating hot water or doing anything other than blowing cold air. In a campsite, thats a bit of a pain but not a major issue as we have the little fan heater as a back up. However, wild camping in January in Scotland with no hot water and no heating isnt as much fun as it sounds! Not only is it bloody cold, condensation inside also becomes an issue, and the mattress starts to stink like a damp dog, as well as the ceiling vents dripping cold water down your neck at every opportunity. Jason had a fiddle with bits and pieces under the bonnet, but to no avail. There's air in the system somewhere, but trying to get it to shunt to the right place so he can bleed it out is a pain in the bottom, to say the least. Driving tends to resolve the problem, but only for a couple of days, then it's back again. Its not always there, and confusingly, sometimes resolves itself without Jason doing anything, so getting anyone to track down why its happening and how we stop it isnt going to be easy.

Still, we were on the road and therefore heating and hot water was looking likely for the evening.

We had a lovely drive along the coast road, and eventually stumbled across a little place called Bettyhill. What a find! The place itself is tiny, no more than a few houses and a little shop/post office that didnt seem to be open. They also had a campsite which, according to the books we had, was closed until March. However, as we drove past the site and up to the house at the top of the hill, an elderly lady opened her front door and looked at us expectantly. With the sun creeping towards the horizon, we thought it was worth an ask, so we pulled over. Turns out she runs the site and although its not technically open, so no shower block/water etc on site, the electric is still turned on so we could plug ourselves in for the princely sum of £5 a night! Not a bad price for guaranteed warmth, I think!

The image at the top of the page is the view from our side window, and the water you can see is the sea thats coming into the beach on the following pictures. I know its a bit of an image deluge, but Jason and I fell in love with the place as soon as we arrived. There's nothing specific we could put our finger on, theres just a feel to the place that makes you want to smile all the time. We even took a photo of the house by the beach, as an example of an ideal place to live. I wonder if its for sale... :-)

The next day we were up at a more reasonable hour, had one last walk on the beach and then headed off on one of Jasons skinny little roads, in search of 'wilderness'...