Finally coming home
A spring #vanlife adventure in my Highland home
Hello, I’m Molly, a full time creator based in the Scottish Highlands. Subscribers can enjoy weekly posts around the themes of slow living, thriving in a creative career, books & nature. Members get access to ALL my content, including video tea times, slow letters and seasonal book reviews.
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It’s the 9th of March and spring has arrived in the Highlands.
Although temperatures were set to rise today, there was still a chill in the air when I emerged from the Tiny Home this morning. A cool mist hung over the distant hills, wetting the vegetation, meaning clumps of grass clung to my trainers. There is something very different about spring mist compared to that of autumn/winter. It feels more transient, like the world is on the brink of throwing off it’s covers to greet the day, rather than sinking back into bed with a warm drink.
Despite it being Sunday, I was up by 6am and busying myself with preparations. I’d been eagerly watching the forecast all week and was determined to make the most of this blue sky day. I hurriedly packed my mini-campervan, strapping Skye into the passenger seat, and shortly after 8am we were off on our adventures.
This is what I’d hoped van life would be like. Although I do enjoy planning longer trips away, there is something special about those more spontaneous days where I embrace nature’s lure and, for a short time, can leave my life behind.
Today, I decided to leave the Cairngorms and follow the A9 north-west, on route to Loch Ness. Shortly before reaching Inverness, I took a left away from the A9 and was almost instantly immersed in wilderness. This is what I love about living in the Highlands, you are never far away from nature.
We pootled along narrow single-track roads before parking up in a large layby, signalling the start of our hike (as indicated by my trusty WalkHighlands app).
This walk would encompass three lochs to take 3.5 hours to complete. We started along the shores of Loch Duntelchaig, the largest of these three lochs, before following the road away from the loch shores and entering a sun dappled birch woodland.
I do enjoy walks that don’t always follow waymarked routes or focus solely around Instagram-worthy viewpoints. I feel you get to see the behind the scenes of a new place this way, giving it a real sense of adventure.
Having said that, exploring away from the beaten track does pose its challenges. Today, the main challenge was bog, with recent rain submerging the grassy trail with a significant amount of murky water.
It was whilst navigating one particularly soggy patch that we encountered the only other walkers on this route and their very friendly dog who, unfortunately, felt the need to jump in its exuberance, leaving exceptionally muddy streaks all down my right leg. I could only be thankful that I’d decided on packing that spare set of leggings after all.
The inconvenience of these mud-soaked leggings was offset by my delight in spotting my first frogspawn of the year. I identified this as frog rather than toad spawn due to the fact that it was floating in big clumps, rather than long chains (as is typical with toads). Frogs are also more likely to spawn in shallower water, like these muddy puddles, whereas toads prefer to tuck their eggs away in deeper water, often draped over aquatic plants. Although these temporary water bodies provide the perfect conditions for frogs, being shallow and warm (the latter being essential for tadpole development), it’s admittedly a risky strategy, so I could only cross fingers that the froglets will have time to emerge before the puddle dries up (or freeze over, which is just as likely in early March in the Highlands).
Shortly after admiring this abundance of spawn, I was treated to a brief glimpse of an adult frog, before it slunk away into the undergrowth. Sightings of frogs always arouse a childlike delight in me. There is a sense of fairy-tale magic to them, like I’ve stepped right into a storybook.
The world was overbrimming with signs of spring on this day. The forest trails shone with vibrant gorse flowers emitting their sweet coconut scent. Lapwings leisurely flapped across farmland skies, their ‘peewit’ calls intermingling with the dramatic crescendo of a singing skylark. And, perhaps best of all, the air echoed with the faint calls of curlews.
This sound instantly revives memories of spring's gone by, including living in my rural caravan (where I had a pair of curlew as neighbours) and trekking across Yorkshire moors on my journey to visit Top Withens (said to be the inspiration for Emily Bronte’s novel Wuthering Heights).
Most vividly of all, this call sends me back to a tiny Shepard’s Hut on the outskirts of John O’ Groats, nestled right at the top of mainland Scotland. I’d watch these birds from my bedside window, overlooking windswept moorland, with the sea smudging the horizon beyond, until I fell asleep, with these ecstatic calls haunting my dreams.
Amidst all these natural wonders, the feeling that stayed with me throughout this walk was a deep sense of home. I belonged to this wild landscape that inspired me to be the best version of myself.
I often feel out of step in the modern world. I’ve never been someone who easily fits within society, but moving to the Highlands made me truly appreciate that I can find this sense of belonging in nature, with a entire landscape to call home.
Van life has meant that I can more closely connect with the natural world around me, which I am immensely grateful for. As I write this, I can hear gentle birdsong whilst watching the steam curl upwards from my newly-made cup of tea, breathing in the warm air drifting through the open back doors.
A perfect pocket of peace and a magical start to a brand new season.
Until next week,
Molly xx
More from my Highland life
My 2025 travel wish list (UK based)
An exclusive insight into my nature diary
An early morning on a Scottish hill
Note - I leave my comments switched on for everyone as I love to give reader’s an opportunity to chat with each other, but, although I’ll do my best, I’m not able to commit to answering all of them. That doesn’t mean yours words aren’t appreciated, so I wanted to write this note to thank you so much for your support! 💚
Lovely trip, thanks for sharing it with us.
What an evocative of writing. It really took me along with you, thank you!