For walking and exploring, the east of Scotland offers a quieter alternative to the busy areas of the Cairngorms
Words & pictures ❚ Sharon Whitcroft
The inspiration behind this trip came from a single photo – a panoramic landscape with three hikers on a broad track that had been shot in the Cairngorms National Park. The walkers were on a plateau and to their left was a loch, with the path they were treading heading off into infinity. The caption below read ‘Loch Brandy in Glen Clova’.
Immediately, I knew I had to go there. But how? The problem was it would soon be July and I hadn’t had any plans to be in Scotland at that time, not to mention already having another trip to Scotland coming up in mid-August. Frustratingly, I thought there just wouldn’t be time to fit it in.
The problem continued to niggle and niggle and, in the meantime, I tore the page out of the brochure and put in on the top of my ‘to do’ file. But still the problem persisted – until a few days later I found myself booking a 10-day trip and not long after that, driving off the ferry in Cairnryan!
Less that 24 hours after arriving in Forfar I stood inside my campervan completely soaked from head to toe. Everything had been going quite well – the drive to Clova was uneventful and the tiny walkers’ car park by the bridge almost deserted, aside from one other vehicle. The weather was on the dull side, but warm, too.
As I began the climb, the well-constructed path was quite steep, the gradient easing off for a while before the final push to Loch Brandy. I made the ascent a little easier by taking frequent breaks to admire the view back along Glen Clova.
After a lunch stop by the loch, I opted not to tackle The Snub, the rather steep and intimidating hill separating Loch Brandy from the Corrie of Clova. Instead, I headed right of the loch, following the path climbing the ‘Broom Shank’ to the top of Green Hill.
Light rain began to threaten as I wandered on the tops, gradually getting heavier and heavier. It was soon raining like stair rods – I’d never witnessed such rain before, and certainly never in July. When the deluge showed no signs of relenting, I decided to call it a day.
By that time, water was flowing down the paths like a river, and I knew then that, even with all my waterproof gear on, I was still going to end up well and truly drenched before I reached the ’van. The upside was I’d achieved my quest and it had still
