The road from Culzean continues close to the coast and unusually is a relatively fast one. We tried to visit Maidens for the beach but the only parking had a height barrier so we continued on, passing quickly through Turnberry, one of Trump’s resorts and as garish and ugly as you would imagine. Girvan was in contrast earthy and rather run down but we did manage a beach stop there.
At Lendalfoot we stopped to explore the monument to the Russian ship Varyag, a ship with a complex and chequered history. She was launched in 1899 and was assigned to the Russian Navy but was sunk by her crew rather than surrender to the Japanese in 1904. Later raised by the Japanese, she was renamed Soya and served with the Japanese Navy before being sold back to the Russians to serve in WW1. The Russian revolution put paid to that and she ended up in the Royal Navy but she ran aground near Lendalfoot.
From there we continued to Stranraer and onto the Rhins of Galloway, the most south-westerly peninsular in Scotland. Exploring this peninsular was fascinating. It is very agricultural with mainly beef cattle and many small roads that went literally nowhere! It was also where we were introduced to the concept of single track roads with no passing places – I was glad we weren’t visiting in peak season!
Portpatrick on the far west coast was a pretty harbour with a lighthouse but the highlight was the Mull of Galloway, the most southerly point in Scotland, also known as Scotland’s Lands End.
It was late afternoon by the time we reached there and the winds were picking up, adding to the bleak beauty of the place. Steep cliffs and fabulous views over Cumbria, Ireland and the Isle of Man on a good day. The lighthouse stands dramatically on the cliff top. It is also an RSPB centre with colonies of guillemots, razorbills and kittiwakes, though they had all gone to warmer places by the time we visited.
We were ushered into the centre though by a very sweet and enthusiastic volunteer called Douggie who made a big fuss of Otter and Martha, chatted about the place and our trip and, eventually, rather tentatively, asked if I’d ever considered joining the RSPB. I had and I did, happily. After all, I am undertaking a trip with a fairly big carbon footprint so supporting an organisation committed to protecting the environment was the least I could do. And, as Douggie pointed out, I would be passing through many RSPB reserves on my travels!
Once duly signed up, we left and went back to the van, intending to stay over at the Mull. The sunset was beautiful and I was looking forward to be up there at dawn. But by 10.30pm the winds were so strong that the van was rocking and being so exposed felt quite scary, so we headed down the hill to another, slightly more sheltered park up at Port Logan for the rest if the night!
We woke on Ayr campsite after a wet night to find Wolfie surrounded by a moat! Not impressed with the drainage here – and not the friendliest of sites – so was glad I had only booked one night and was moving on to Culzean (pronounced without the ‘z’) today.
Janet arrived mid morning and we drove in convoy the short run down the coast to Culzean Castle, the impressive 18th century castle perched on the cliffs overlooking the Firth of Clyde. It is now owned by the National Trust of Scotland and both house and grounds are open to the public.
We arrived to find a promotional event for cycling so we got some free gifts as well – I got a whistle and Janet a very small microfibre towel! I think I got the better deal. We managed to convince them that the combination of bikes and dogs would not end well and that we had come to walk. First we explored the castle ramparts and environs, then we headed off to the beach.
The beach is reached down a very steep bank of steps which were very slippy after the rain. At the bottom is a lovely holiday cottage but I wouldn’t fancy carrying luggage down there. By the beach there is also the old gas house, which supplied power to the castle until the 1940s.
After a romp on the beach where Saffy and Otter tried to play and Martha tried to stop them, we continued for a rather wet walk along the disused railway line and around the wider grounds. Dogs all walked we had a lovely late lunch in the cafe then walked some more before heading back to the lovely Culzean campsite in the grounds to enjoy the views out to sea over a brew. All in all a lovely day in good company.
The overriding association of these few days is frustration. I was up against the clock because we had booked the van into a KwikFit Plus in Glasgow to have the brakes done. I checked with them that they could handle a vehicle the size of Wolfie and gave our registration number so they could check it themselves. They assured me they could so we were duly checked in for the Saturday morning. A friend, Joan, volunteered to come and collect me and the dogs and take me for coffee while they did the work so all was arranged. But the down side was that I had a time pressure to get down to Glasgow.
My aim on the Friday was to get near Loch Lomond so that I only had a short drive into Glasgow on the Saturday morning. But this meant a lot of driving from Crinan if I was to take in any of the coast – and a disappointing but unavoidable decision to miss out the Cowal peninsula and Dunoon – at least for now.
We set off early from Crinan determined to make it around Knapdale and Kintyre at least. It was a dull and windy day and, being up against the clock, we missed stopping in a lot of places that we would otherwise have explored. But we had great views across to Islay and Jura on the west coast.
Our visit to Kintyre was worth it for Westport beach alone – a stunning, sandy beach with crazily wild waves.
We reached Tarbet just in time to get excellent fish and chips from the shop on the harbour and then continued round to Inveraray and on over Rest and Be Thankful to finally reach our park up at Balloch on the edge of Lomond. It was a gruelling day of driving – over 200 miles – not something I would want to repeat. But through some amazing countryside.
On the Saturday morning we headed down to Glasgow to drop off the van and meet Joan, only to be told by the mechanic at Kwikfit “We don’t do those” as he nodded towards Wolfie. When I protested that I had explained what she was and given them the registration so they could check, he just shrugged and repeated “We don’t do those”, as if if he said it often enough it would be less annoying!
So frustrating! I had raced down here for this – missing out a chunk of coastline in the process – only to be turned away. But there was little to be done. At that moment I decided that the brakes would have to wait. I was going home in mid-October for some blood tests so I could have them done at our local garage. At least they could be trusted to do the job!
Joan and I headed off to a local Starbucks for a welcome coffee and catch up before we said our goodbyes and I set off to the coast once more, rejoining the coast at the Erskine Bridge. This part of the coast is industrial, with a rich ship building heritage and commercial and naval docks, as well as the more genteel marinas with their yachts and small craft. Port Glasgow. Greenock. Gounock.
It was very wet but we stopped at Inverkip for a brief walk on the shore then headed on. This part of the coast has a road right along it – fairly rare I have found. And sadly for us, we got so far and found this one was closed between Skelmorie and Largs!
The diversion was ridiculous taking us all the way back to Port Glasgow, then across country. We attempted to find our own way via Garvock but found that road closed as well. So we had no choice but to go all the way back then via Lochwinnoch to Largs. From there we had no more problems – apart from the terrible weather making any chance of seeing anything slim!
We finally reached Ayr and the campsite we had booked after another long and frustrating day. But we had arranged to meet Janet and the Maremmas the next day at Culzean so hopefully things would look up.
My apologies for the radio silence over the past few weeks. I am still alive and the trip is still going well, though I am currently recovering from a bout of something nasty in the stomach department (recuperating at Tilley Farm which is hugely restorative).
I haven’t been posting as I was finding that it was taking all my time in the evenings. Not just the writing which is quick but sorting through and editing photos and getting them in the right format, editing video etc. So we would drive, walk, visit places, then stop for the night and I would be doing stuff for the blog/Youtube every evening. It was becoming like a job and adding to the pressure which this trip is meant to be addressing.
So I decided to take a break from it. I am still posting regularly on Facebook (so send me a friend request if you are not seeing those) plus I am keeping notes – so the trip reports will come eventually. I am just not pressuring myself to keep up to date.
Pressuring myself is something I do very well. I realise that this whole trip is actually a symptom of it. I could have just said I am taking 4 months off to travel and then gone where I wanted and stayed as long as I liked. But no – I said I was going round the whole coast – and I built in stops for workshops etc. so round the whole coast I have to go – and under time pressure.
Except I don’t. I have to keep reminding myself that there are no rules except those I have set myself – and I have the prerogative to change those. I can miss out bits of coast if I like and I can stay longer in some bits than others. This is in fact inevitable but I am not somehow ‘cheating’ if I do it.
So for the rest of the trip I am taking my time where I want and speeding up when I want. I have two more workshops planned up in Yorkshire at the beginning of December but I have long realised that I would not be up there in time so will take a week out to go from wherever I am to do those then home for the rest of the week for the dreaded election. I will then go back and continue my travels.
It is all good learning. About myself and what drives me. About the pressures I put upon myself. About priorities and what is important. I hope you will understand.
After a lovely walk along the coast at Ardnamurchan, we set off for the ferry at Kilchoan to head across to Tobermory on the Isle of Mull.
We were looking forward to spending a few days exploring the island, of which I have happy memories from a childhood holiday the best part of 50 years before.
We arrived early at the ferry port at Kilchoan so we were first in the queue for the drive on–drive off ferry.
This time Martha was a bit more relaxed from the start. We stayed in the van again and we were quickly across to Tobermory.
We had been offered hospitality from a couple of friends but, by bad timing, I arrived the same morning as one of them left for the mainland on a long-standing family visit, so in the end we headed straight across to Calgary Bay, where Fiona and Colin Brunton had offered us a place to park up. And what a park up it was! Hook up, water, views over the bay, guided walks of the area and lovely meals – as well as the chance to do washing and have a proper shower. I felt truly spoiled. Colin also had a look at the van and confirmed that the brakes needed attention (the light had been flickering on and off for a day or so) but reassured me that they were not unsafe. This was just as well as there was no prospect of getting them fixed on the island – at least not that week! So I arranged to have them done later in Glasgow but it was good to know they would last out.
We had a lovely relaxed day. We went for a couple of walks with Fiona and their dog Ben (Otter’s new best friend) – over the beach, through the Sculpture woods and round the castle, which was to be our regular walk each morning we were there, plus a lovely afternoon walk through the woods at Cuin. We then went to the wonderful store in Dervaig which sold everything you could imagine and many things I didn’t expect. I had never seen humous in a jar for instance – an excellent idea for the van! But mostly it was just lovely to have a day where I hardly drove at all and just chilled out.
We started our second day on Mull with an early morning walk, again exploring the beach, the woods and the castle, with Fiona and Ben. The castle was a lovely old place, with wonderful views over the bay. It had previously been in Fiona’s family and was now being renovated with help from family photos, to restore it to its former glory. It even came complete with its own ‘secret garden’.
Then it was off to explore the south side of Mull. Fiona had recommended we head for Ardalanish, where there was a great beach and a weaving shed, so we set off, taking the long route down the west coast and round Mull’s only munro, Ben More, to Bunessan. The scenery was stunning and the day warm and sunny – the last as it turned out before the weather turned.
From Bunessan, we headed off south to the tiny hamlet of Ardalanish. The beach did not disappoint. Vast and pretty much deserted (once the group of 30 hikers had left!), it had silver sands and pretty coloured rocks. Not to mention plenty of parkour opportunities. We had a lot of fun there.
The weaving shed was fascinating. When I arrived they were just starting to weave cloth from wool from their own Hebridean flock, so I stayed and watched the great looms at work for a while before getting myself a home-made bridie (similar to a pastie) and an ice cream to take back for lunch in the van. We never saw the Hebridean sheep but we did meet some very fine Scottish Blackface rams along the way.
From Ardanalish, we headed to the end of the island to Fionnphort, where we waved at the small island of Iona across the water, before heading back round the eastern coast road towards Calgary. The Oban ferry was just coming in as we passed through Craignure, a much bigger boat (and longer route) than the one we had taken.
All along this road are signs warning of Otters crossing. I kept a careful look out all the way, hoping to catch sight of one, but no luck. We did see a Golden Eagle, swooping down behind the forest edge, its huge wingspan making it unmistakeable and very dramatic. But the only things that crossed the road were the usual sheep, highland cows and a rather incongruous peacock, who seemed rather lost!
Next day we were heading back to the mainland to continue our trip down the west coast. After a final walk with Fiona and Ben, we said our goodbyes and headed off to Fishnish via Tobermory again and the last bit of the Mull coast around the north east corner.
By the time we reached the ferry the wind had picked up and it was a choppy ride over to Lochaline.
This part of the coast is tricky to navigate. It becomes very convoluted and roads do not always follow the coast line. In the end, with time curtailed by the need to get to Glasgow for our garage appointment, I decided to follow the marked Argyll coastal route via the tiny Corran ferry and head from there down to Oban. But first we explored the in and out road up to Drimnin.
It was a wild and windy day so we didn’t see much but it was a pretty run. Between Lochaline and Drimnin we came across the Clach na Criche or Boundary Stone which according to legend marked the border between Pictish and Gaelic lands and was said to grant wishes to any who could pass through the hole without touching the sides. I didn’t try – I could barely stand up in the wind at this point!
We made our way back to Lochaline and then on towards Corran. After the short ferry crossing, we stopped briefly near Onich for a woodland walk to celebrate clocking 2000 miles and a few moments of relative dry.
Reaching Oban was something of a culture shock after the quiet of the highlands and islands. We arrived at the beginning of rush hour and it was a relief to get through and get on along the open road again. We were heading down to Tarbert and Campbeltown but it had already been a long day’s drive, so we stopped for the night beside the lovely Crinan canal at Cainbaan. It was wild, wet and windy but at least safely away from trees or cliff tops!
We moved on from our layby stopever early so as not to get in the way of local dog walkers. The little beach opposite as at high tide again (low tide had been 2am!) so we headed off for our walk a little way along the coast to Camusdarach, which had been highly recommended. It did not disappoint.
It did take some finding. The beach is well back through a long stretch of dunes but we arrived to find it deserted and, even at high tide, plenty big enough for a fun morning leg stretch.
After an hour or so on the beach, we headed back up the road to Mallaig as I needed a few supplies. After doing the shopping I stopped off in the lovely Tea Garden cafe for a little breakfast, a fried egg roll which I promptly splashed all down my front! But otherwise it was a lovely relaxed start to the day.
It was late morning before we set off again, this time heading along the coast to Kilchoan where we were getting the ferry to Mull the next day. Once again we had stunning views along the way.
As is our habit we took a detour down an in-out road, sign-posted to Druimindarroch. This one proved to be very much a no through road. It literally simply came to an end and we had a tight squeeze to turn round and get back out!
We stopped along the way for a walk on the shore at Camas Torsa, a rocky shore, picked up a new gas bottle from a very cheery lady at Ardshealach and finally reached Ardnamurchan where we booked into the empty campsite and then headed on up the road to the most westerly point on the mainland, Ardnamurchan point with its lighthouse.
Ardnamurchan point was beautiful but very bleak and very cold. We had a walk along the cliff but decided against a picnic at the tables right on the west point. Instead they gave us a Parkour opportunity.
Heading back to the campsite we came across fields of very interesting sheep: Jacobs, Shetlands, Soay and what looked like it might have been a Manx Loaghtan ram! I am enjoying the sheep spotting up here!
The campsite was still deserted and on the final day of their season we were the only guests. It was a great site. We parked up at the top of hill with stunning views across to Mull. In the morning we could walk straight out onto their rocky shore.
We set off from the lovely Wee Campsite at Lochcarron heading for the Kyle of Lochalsh and Skye. But first we needed a walk so we stopped at Strome Wood and set off up their woodland track. It was beautiful but very steep and I am quite certain more than the 3/4 of a mile claimed. But a lovely little walk with fabulous views over Loch Carron.
Getting the walk in early was a good move as the day quickly became very wet so we didn’t see a great deal of the road via Plockton that we took to get to Kyle of Lochalsh and soon we were “over the bridge” to Skye.
It is a beautiful bridge, rising high above Loch Alsh between the mainland and the Isle of Skye but I am not sure it has done the island any favours and I am pretty sure my parents would find Skye very different from when they honeymooned here just over 60 years ago.
On our first day there we drove north from the Kyle heading for Portree, where we stopped for a short wander round the pretty harbour planning to then stop early at a recommended park up at Loch Leathan. But I took a wrong turn and ended up going up towards Uig and the top of the island – a much longer route than planned. However it did mean we could stop off at the Skye brewery in Uig to stock up on beer!
I have to confess I am torn about Skye.
On the one hand it is breathtakingly beautiful. The Cuillins are magnificent and dominate the landscape from all angles. The light going round the top of the island was spectacular: sea, clouds and islands blended in beautiful soft milkiness. Most of this was impossible to capture in photographs not least because stopping on the rough single track roads round the north of the island proved tricky. But it was stunning.
As I drove around the words from the Robert Louis Stevenson poem, used in the Outlander theme song, seemed very apt:
"Billow and breeze, islands and seas, Mountains of rain and sun..."
But on the other hand it was so very busy. Bus loads of visitors jumping on and off for photo opportunities. People everywhere and with them the visitor attractions. I realise that I am part of that, but it struck me that on Skye – at least up north – it was almost impossible to find solitude.
Because of my wrong turning our first day was long – more than 125 miles – and we finally reached our park up at Loch Leathan as the light was fading. This was a recommended “Search for Sites” park up and the views were fabulous even in the rain. The loch beside us and the Old Man of Storr just behind. A rainbow added to our early optimism.
But it turned out to be a terrible place to sleep. The road was busy well into the early hours and the ground listed to the side far more than I had expected. It was wet and miserable and we were really cold. I didn’t sleep well though I think Otter at least was less worried!
However, by morning the weather had improved giving us a better view of the Old Man and a lovely dawn over the Loch. We set off early and after a short while took a detour towards Torvaig, mainly to get away from the endless traffic stream and to find somewhere for a walk.
It turned out to be a seredipitous choice. A mile or so down the single track road we found a lane off to the right with a large sign saying PATH. A chap with a Jack Russell was just heading down it so it looked promising as a dog walk. We parked up out of the way and set off following the sign. It was a fairly boring walk through fields but it did the job. After a few stiles we met the man and his JRT who were now coming back. He was very friendly and suggested an alternative walk along the top of the shoreline. So we headed off the way he indicated and soon found another sign also just saying PATH. This one soon took us along the top of the shoreline, with beautiful views stretching out over the sea and the peninsular opposite.
Our walk at Torvaig restored my soul a little but I was very weary from the long drive the day before and the disturbed night, so after a visit to Portree and Stein harbour, where the oldest inn on Skye is located (shut when we go there in the late morning), I decided to call it a day and book into a campsite to recover.
We headed off to Carbost, home of the Talisker Whiskey Distillery and set up camp on the little Certified Location at Merkadale. It was basic but functional and good to have everything to hand including the rarity of wifi.
We took a walk down into Carbost and back then settled in for the night, under another rainbow.
On our final day on Skye we set off down to the south of the island, taking a little road round the feet of the mighty Cuillins and around Loch Slapin to Elgol. This was my favourite part of Skye by far. It was wild and beautiful at every turn. Sheep and highland cattle mooched across the roads without a care and the traffic was neglible compared with the rest of the island. It felt like the Glen that had been (thankfully!) forgotten, except by walkers and cyclists.
We went to the end of the road at Elgol then turned back and stopped at the base of Ben Meabost for a walk. The track would’ve taken us right up into the Cuillins but none of us are fit enough for that, so we contented ourselves with a walk in the foothills and then continued on our way down to the southernmost point of the island and the Aird of Sleet. Our walk there had to be cut short as we were due to catch the ferry to Mallaig, so we turned back and drove up to Armadale to take our place in the queue.
The ferry is just turn up and drive on. It is a short journey so we could stay in the van, which was just as well as Martha was quite concerned initially. So we sat together on the bench and had a cuddle while we made our way back over the sea from Skye.
We reached Mallaig as the sun was setting and had planned to park up in the car park there but it was packed and really not a pleasant place to stay, so we continued a few miles down the coast, taking a minor road off towards Traig. I soon came across a small layby opposite a tiny beach. On Google maps it is marked Arisaig Beach but Arisaig is further down the coast so I don’t know. But it was a nice park up if rather isolated so I put my straps on the front doors before we went to bed.
In the morning I couldn’t find my keys and then realised I had left them in the outside of the door all night! Clearly it was a safer location than I had imagined!
Day 15 started with a dawn walk on the lovely Little Gruinard Beach. Such a great park up with the beach to ourselves first thing. We were then off to explore the area around Loch Ewe. But first we took a small road off toward Opinan and the fascinatingly named Mellon Udrigle, which sounds like something from the Hobbit. The big surprise for us there was the wonderful beach, so we had our second beach walk of the morning. Stunning.
From Opinan we retraced our steps back to the main road. This was to be the pattern for the next few days. Following the single track until we literally reached the end of the road. Always hoping that there will be space to turn round (there always has been so far).
Moving up to the right side of Loch Ewe we reached Aultbea, which shows a lovely big beach on the map but all we could see was a rocky shore. Perhaps it is one hidden from the road, but having had beaches a plenty that morning we continued on to Mellon Charles where there was a Perfumery Cafe. I had a welcome coffee there with an awesome gluten and dairy free lemon and lime cake which was the most delicious thing. The dogs were sleeping off their beach time in the van.
We continued around Loch Ewe, once more taking a road in and out up to Cove, where there is a monument to the Arctic Convoy, the merchant navy and navy vessels that took supplies to Russia during the Second World War. Many perished en route and the memorial on the cliff top above the entrance to Loch Ewe, from which they left, was interesting and moving. I had not known about this before.
Apparently Loch Ewe was critical to the Navy during WW2, due to its natural defences and depth. There are lots of old bunkers along the shore line and a trail of information with stories of how the sailors interacted with the locals (mostly amicably) whom they outnumbered 3 to 1.
The next “in and out” road took us past the unimaginatively but accurately named Big Sand but disappointingly it was within a huge holiday park and I objected to paying to access it especially with so many accessible beaches around.
Our fifth and final in and outer took us to Red Point, another lovely beach but this one heaving with people so we continued back to the main road where we were carrying on towards Kinlochewe. We stopped briefly to see Victoria Falls, which was pretty and very peaceful. Not quite a match for its South African namesake, but a pleasant stop.
It was getting late by this point and we had covered well over 100 miles with all the ins and outs, so we started looking for a park up place. One place recommended on Search for Sites was a restaurant in Lower Diabaig, where you could park up and eat. It sounded attractive but was still a way away so I decided against it and opted for the car park in the heart of Glen Torridon. It is well used by walkers doing some of the peaks in that area, and a spot where Red Deer are known to hang out, but once the walkers left it was just us for a quiet and rather isolated night.
The heavens opened overnight and I was glad we were well up above the burn. The deer clearly had somewhere more cosy to hang out as we saw no sign of any. But we were cozy too and in the morning we strolled out in a brief respite from the rain and followed the hill walking path – but only for a short while. For today we had a major hurdle to cross: Applecross or to give it its Gaelic name: Bealach Na Ba – the Pass of the Cattle.
The weather was not much improved as we started Day 16 and before heading on the coast road to Applecross, we took the small in and out road towards Lower Diabaig, the location of our potential park up from the night before. Boy am I glad I opted for Torridon!
The road over to Diabaig was wild – hair pin bends, 25% inclines and a very narrow single track road. It was beautiful but I was glad I had not attempted it while tired the night before. When we reached Lower Diabaig I looked at the hill down and bottled out. I was not sure if we would get back out again! But this was all great preparation for what was to come later in the day.
We took the easy coastal route round to Applecross. It was drizzly and foggy so views were more limited, but a pleasant run. We stopped at Applecross beach for a rather wet walk on another great beach – and we even came across a little flock of Shetlands sheltering up in the woodland by the side of the road.
After a brief stop in Applecross, we set off to tackle Bealach Na Ba. Wow! What a road. It has the steepest ascent of any road in Britain rising from sea level at Applecross to 2054 ft (626 metres). It is similar to mountain passes in the Alps with hairpin bends and has blind summits and sheer drops at regular intervals. To make it more fun, as we drove up, the fog descended on us and I could barely see.
In reality, visibility was probably 20 feet but when you are on a single track road watching out for anything coming up the other way, that isn’t very far! I was gripping the steering wheel, crawling along, at one point genuinely scared!
But finally we started to descend and come out of the fog and it was worth it for the views that appeared before us. I could have done without the driver who decided to park up on the passing place on one of the switchbacks, and the one who waited until I had reversed back up the hill before thinking that perhaps they could move onto the gravel, and the many who attempted to race round it, overshooting passing places that should have been perfectly usable. And I don’t think I would choose to do it again in a hurry – at least not in a 15-year-old motorhome (although she did brilliantly). But I am glad we did it this time. It was an amazing experience.
I didn’t take any pictures but I have uploaded the unedited final 12 minutes of the descent. Excuse my language! It was a scary experience and I think I was slightly hysterical to have survived unscathed!
When we reached the bottom I stopped at the very busy dog-friendly Bealach Cafe and Gallery and had a wonderful Tuscan Bean soup and a salted caramel shortcake. I think I earned it. I ended up sharing a table with a chap from Dent who was just having a cheese toastie before tackling Bealach Na Ba the other way on a bike! So I felt like a wuss – although he graciously (though I think optimistically) said he thought it might be harder in a motorhome!
After my late lunch break I was much restored so we drove the last few miles to our campsite for the night: The Wee Campsite in Lochcarron. This very informal spot is great – you just park up and at some point the chap comes along and takes your money. And right next door there are pigs! Otter was fascinated and spent the rest of the drizzly evening pig watching from the van window! I made some more soup – carrot and pepper this time. Very nice!