Fort Augustus, Plockton, and more gobstopping scenery …

Thursday, March 20, 2025

Another cold start before another blue day and some more almost impossibly beautiful scenery. Scotland truly is magnificent.

The first time we visited, everything seemed tinged with the purple-brown of the heather in late autumn, the glens filled with low mist. One of my clearest memories of that trip was being in Glencoe and seeing a low-flying F-number plane – the roar of the engines following it.

The next time was different. It was 2015 and we were with Sarah. Grant was keen to show her where he came from, where his grandparents lived, the memories he had of visiting them. It was Stirling Castle, Edinburgh Castle, Castle Urquhart, Melrose Abbey and pretty much anywhere that Robert the Bruce might possibly have set foot. The old-fashioned sweetie shops Grant and Sarah love, the Grinch stalking the streets of Callender, snow settling on the foothills of Stirling Castle.

This trip has been all about the scenery—the yellow of the gorse and the daffodils, the blue skies, the mountains.

Anyways, that aside, onto today’s adventures.

Today we were heading west to Plockton – a village I’ve wanted to visit ever since seeing it on Hamish Macbeth, a TV show from the mid-1990s. It’s also the home of “Plockton Prawns”, some of the best langoustines in the country, and we’re hoping to get some for lunch.

First up, though, is a late breakfast. After waving hello to Nessie in Loch Ness, we sat alongside the Caledonian Canal at Fort Augustus to eat our bacon baps.

The five-lock canal staircase is impressive – the canal itself an engineering wonder – but the hows and whys and wherefors do my head in.

Between here and Plockton, the views get bigger, and the F-35s fly low through the glens. While we didn’t go in, we stopped at the Carpark at Eilean Donan Castle for some pics.

A narrow single-lane road takes us into Plockton – just in time for lunch.

Because it’s out of season (a familiar story), there’s not much open in town, so we head to the pub where we’re dismayed to hear that they have no prawns in… yet, but there might be for dinner. We shrug and sigh and order (to share) a dressed crab, queen scallops with garlicky, bacony butter, and the Plockton smokie – smoked mackerel, tomatoes, cheese and cream baked in a little pot with a crispy topping. It sounds a tad dodgy, but served with a fantastic salad and excellent bread, it was gorgeous.

The village itself is cute, but unlike in Hamish Macbeth, highland cows don’t wander wild through the streets. Go figure lol.

On our way back to Inverness, we stopped at Lochcarron of Scotland at Strathcarron. Try saying that three times after a few drams. It has so many fantastic tartans and I buy myself a poncho. It’s unavailable in the Hamilton tartan, so I opt for the Hame tartan. Designed by Lochcarron, its tones were inspired by heather, gorse, and the waters of the rivers and lochs. Whatever the inspiration, I love it.

Back on the road, more F-35s roar through; we count seven. They must do it often as the sheep aren’t scared.

Dinner tonight was back at Bella Italia. I had the chicken Milanese with garlic butter and served (oddly, but successfully) with tomato spaghetti. Grant had a tomato pasta dish with pulled chicken and mushrooms.

Tomorrow, we’re off to Edinburgh.

The stats…

Temperature: 0-12

Miles travelled: 170*

*Even though we work in kms in Australia, all signage in the UK is in miles, so that’s what I’m going with.

These posts are taken directly from my travel journal … you can find the series here.