All is well. Jane is asleep in the passenger seat. Is it just me? Am I alone in feeling soothed by the ‘thud, thud, thud’ as New Mobes, our Swift Bolero, glides across the concrete A50, rising over the southernmost Pennines between Uttoxeter and Stoke? I love this road.
I feel like I'm on my way somewhere, anywhere. Certainly for me, this is a big part of the joy of motorhoming. The joy increases as we pass over the Manchester Ship Canal. We're heading, ultimately, to a first encounter with the far north coast but, before that, a fantastic journey through some of the best that Scotland has to offer.
U2's ‘A Sort of Homecoming’ fills my head as we pass through Cumbria, the 10 highest mountain peaks in England to the west and the eleventh highest to the east, all visible on this clear day. I recall this part of the journey from my childhood as we moved house from Scotland to England and back again.
The sign to Metal Bridge, north of Carlisle, means the border is approaching and, here it is, heralded by the Saltire. ‘Fàilte gu Alba – Welcome to Scotland’. ‘Homecoming’ segues into ‘Eiledon’, by Scottish band : “The eagle soars above the clouds. The deer ran
