The Perfect Pitch at Onich, Scotland by Motorhome

The French have a saying: “les pieds dans l’eau” meaning you’re so close to the sea, your feet are practically in the water. That’s us that is ;-). We’re at Anne’s motorhome aire at Onich, midway between Glencoe and Fort William. The stony beach is all of ten metres away and we’ve a 180 degree view of the grey-green frigid waters of the loch. It’s quite a place.

Days here are low-key, sat watching the changing face of the sea and the surrounding hills. I’d not want to be a weather forecaster in these parts. One minute the van’s creaking as it expands under the sun, the next it’s bracing itself against the wind and hammering rain, then back again a bit later. There may be a trick to working out whether to venture out for a wee explore in the dry, but if there is, we’ve not yet sussed it.

The route here from Oban is A-road all the way. Wide enough for two decent-sized vehicles to safely pass and a relief after some of the tougher narrow-road drives over the past few weeks. A check on the map before starting out revealed not much to stop for. Except for the restored, 700-year-old Castle Stalker, scenically placed on an island off Portnacroish. The cafe/visitor’s centre was closed on a Sunday, but there was enough space to safely park and go take a look-see from a viewpoint.

Later the road straightened and expanded and we let out a mock cry of delight. Shortly afterwards the sight of distant flashing blue lights slowed us down again. A couple of cars had somehow become tangled on the arrow-straight road, leaving a giant rubber signature to mark their coming-together. One was embedded in the bushes, the other facing the wrong way on the carriageway and looking sorry for itself. No ambulances, just the police. Fingers crossed paramedics weren’t needed.

We crossed a couple of metal bridges on the way north, the kind which are built from giant Meccano and are a little exciting to drive. The first was single track with traffic lights. Sat behind a small van, we were a little bemused when he waited for the oncoming traffic to dry up then headed off straight through the red light. 30 seconds later they went green and we drove onto the bridge, wondering whether we should have followed him?

The second bridge was two lanes, crossing the entrance to Loch Leven, a few miles to the west of Glencoe. It’s a dramatic spot. The landscapes here are expansive, half sky and half sea. A wedge of green hills squeezes between loch and heaven.

A mile or two after the bridge a tiny side road leads to this small six-pitch aire. So tiny, we completely missed it and had to find a safe place to turn for another go. Second time lucky, we headed through a small hamlet and practically into the loch.

Parked up and as high as we could get on our ramps (we’re still not level), we headed off for a wander along the beach. On the way back we got chatting with a chap who lives here, out walking his furry ‘he’s no friendly’ daschund. A character he was, a big talker. He told us Anne’s mother had this small camping area before her. He lives in the house behind, but can’t see any of the vans as we’re sat in a dip. He was amused to hear it’s now £20 a night. It was £8 for years, he told us, along with a few nuggets of local gossip.

Around the corner from there lie the Corran Narrows, a pinch point where the mile-wide Loch Linnhe narrows to 500m. A car ferry here avoids a 42 mile detour, although it’s getting old and conks out from time to time. There’s discussion of building a bridge or investing in a new electric ferry. The local chap told us he’d seen the Royal Yacht Brittania (remember her?) impressively sailing through the narrows on her way to Fort William, followed by a frigate for security. It’s narrow but deep on this side.

If you’ve a kayak or SUP you’re in business here, although chances of staying stood-up on a SUP might depend heavily on whether the loch chooses lumpy of flat mode (hint: it’s mostly the former). We’ve neither, but have a couple of legs apiece. For once there’s a pavement/cycle path here which runs all the way to Glencoe about 7 miles away. The Derby half marathon awaits us when we get home, so we’ve been out long running to prepare. We made it to Bellachulish, a mile or two shy of Glencoe, an interesting little village with a history of slate quarrying.

This afternoon we’re chilling. The wind’s up and the sea’s gone interesting. No chance of a storm though, thankfully, as this place goes under water when it gets really bad. Storm damage closes the aire from time to time, but Anne’s invested in stone for the road and pitches this year, so maybe it’ll be more resilient now.

If you do want to come here, it’s well worth calling ahead as it seems perma-full. There are only 6 pitches, each about 10m apart, giving it a great feel. But even when some are sat empty folks have called in and pre-booked them, and a ‘Sorry Full’ sign sits at the entrance.

Tomorrow we’re booked into a small campsite in Glencoe. This is our most northerly point on this trip, it’s all south from here. Although Fort William and Ben Nevis lie just to the north, the weather on the mountain isn’t good. Mountain Forecasts predicts snow and -12°C with windchill at the top tomorrow; we’re not geared up for that so we’re giving it a miss.

We’re about 10 miles from the famous ‘Harry Potter’ Glenfinnen train viaduct too. The Royal Scotsman steam train crosses it four times a day, an impressive sight. But it’s massively popular (they’ve built an extra car park at the bottom of the viewpoint path to take all the coaches and cars). Also, it costs £10 to park a motorhome for the day (no overnighting) , we’ve already seen it pre-Harry-Potter and we just can’t be bothered.

So south into the glen we go. We’ve been through it a few times, always a joyful ride, but have never had the time to stay overnight. There are car parks you can overnight in but while out running we saw quite a few motorhomes on the road here. Competition for space in wild camping spots must be a little fierce in these parts. We’ve done plenty of sleeping by the road over the years (and on this trip) and are happy to spoil ourselves with the comfort of a campsite.

Cheers, Jay