Archie the VW camperVAn tastes the good life (4)

Breakfast in the morning was delicious. Kippers for my better half and smoked salmon and scrambled eggs for me. Some of Christine Dobson's beautifully baked bread (she gets up at 4 every morning to bake the breads and puddings for the hotel and then spends the rest of the day riding), toasted and spread with honey. Endless cups of tea on tap. Fresh juices. The wonders of a new day.

If you've never been to the Crinan Canal you should really plan a visit. Referred to as 'the most beautiful shortcut in Britain' you only have to stroll along its pebbled paths to appreciate a wonderful sense of life slowing down, moving at the same gentle pace as the yachts and fishing boats navigating up hill, then down through the 15 locks. 

The canal was designed to provide a quick link between the West coast and Islands at one end and the Clyde Estuary at the other, thereby avoiding the long voyage around the South end of The Kintyre Peninsula - The Mull is notoriously wild; remember the story of the fishing boats sheltering in Port Righ Bay, caught out in strong gusts and mounting waves.

Today the boats are mostly heading West, starting at the Ardrishaig end of Loch Fyne and heading towards the Sea Lock and the Sound of Jura. The Cairnbaan sits at Lock 5, and from Easter to October the bar and restaurant welcome sailors, walkers and a good mix of local folk happy to watch life at a slower pace.

We enjoy a short stroll along the canal - you reach a point where the view opens up and the vastness of the Inner Hebrides bleeds into the landscape. Then a brisker stroll back, a good morning to Archie and off we go, sitting higher than the average traveller. Believe it or not, we had actually planned to sleep in Archie, however with the cold weather we decided to that instead we would simply use her as our mode of transport, perfectly suited for short stopping and Island hopping.

Two thirds of the way along the canal we veered left and then right where the road splits at the top of Loch Sween. Go left and you eventually come to Achnamara and Castle Sween. Venture right, as my heart always does, and you trundle along a twisting and winding single track - past Fergus the Highlander (who's just fathered a boy cow - that would be a calf.) My other half reminds me a couple of times that without powered steering Archie is a tough old boy to navigate. However I'm already planning lunch, looking forward to a quick visit to my friend Kate, who I just know will squeek when she meets Archie. 

As we pull off at the black and white wood posted passing places (the villagers fought for these as opposed to the more modern plastic monstrosities that rural councils seem to favour) we don't just get a finger raised in thanks. People smile and wave - Archie elicits that sort of response and although you feel slightly daft waving enthusiastically back, you do nonetheless because this is just such a happy way to travel.

We reach the Tayvallich Inn where I used to be a partner and stop outside to see what progress the new owners are making with their renovations. I know I keep referring to favourite places, but yes, Tayvallich is another one. A daddy-sized hamlet with a shop and a pub, a sheltered bay and a place where families spend the most idyllic holidays year after year after year. Lynn and Glen Hyde took over last year and after a particularly busy season are now revamping the basics - more specifically, the loos. Not a pleasant job but February in Argyll is the time to do these things. Lynn is the chef, having learned her trade on large yachts and gin palaces in the med and the Caribbean. Faced daily, then, with the challenge of creating  meals from whatever was caught on a day's sail, her instinctive sense is to let the natural flavours shine. Glen is front of house, having skippered all over the world. They are outdoor people and buying the Inn is the start of them creating a dream life for themselves on the West Coast.

It's interesting. Most of the establishments on the Seafood Trail are run by couples who have made lifestyle choices to escape the proverbial rat race. They recognise that hard work, long hours and sore feet are the trade offs made to live in such truly beautiful water's edge locations and after a while the hard work becomes just what you do. That's certainly how it was for me. I used to wake up every morning, charge to the window and consciously be very very grateful for

living within such beautiful coastal landscape.

Given that the Inn is closed until the end of the month, we parked Archie at the water's edge and had ourselves a picnic with good friend Kate. Out came the camping stove and we sauteed scallops that we'd bought in Tarbert a couple of days before. Loads of butter, a squeeze of lemon juice, a glass of wine that was nearly chilled enough and the scallop shells as a plate. A large chunk of Kate's lemon cake and a slab of Green and Black's chocolate to follow. That's as complicated as scallops need to be - in fact the same is true for most shellfish. Less is usually more.