From the top floor of a tall building overlooking a sleepy, early morning Oban bay, I am watching what must be the first ferry of the day leaving port.
As it smears a quiet trail across still harbour waters, not waking the cluster of wee yachts to one side, the fishing boat and pier to the other, or the lush green cliffs and mountains asleep in all directions, I wonder what the passengers are thinking.
And are they thinking what I’m thinking: travel sickness, midges and vertigo are a small price to pay for this bliss.
Highlands and Islands touring is and always has been one of my favourite things to do as an actor.
What’s not to love about visiting and discovering some of the most beautiful parts of Scotland, which I might otherwise be too disorganised and ill-equipped (as a non-driver) to see?
I love living in the city but it’s a blessed relief to get away sometimes, to feel small in vast, mountainous landscapes, to breathe the freshest of air, take in stunning views, slow down and tune out from the whirl and noise of city life.
That said, it’s not without its challenges. Over the years, I have learned – often the hard way – some golden rules for surviving and thriving on Highlands and Islands tour.
6 rules for Highland survival
1. For the love of God, bring a raincoat. Seems obvious but it’s amazing how many actors fail to consider the year-round challenge of Highlands and Islands weather.
It might be summer but that doesn’t mean you don’t need full-body waterproofs. It is imperative to pack for all-seasons-in-a-day conditions.
2. Bring plenty of midge spray and apply religiously. Midges love me and would eat me alive at any opportunity, so I am obsessed with my spray-down regime.
But never assume you’re one of lucky ones whose blood they don’t like, because the fee-fi-fo-fum factor with these wee vampires is such that, if left alone without a tastier pal like me, they’ll eat you too.
3. Don’t read in the car – twisty single-track roads with passing places are not the place for scrolling through your phone, unless you want to test how long it takes you to turn green.
There’s a reason ‘hold-onto-your-stomach rodeo’ never caught on. Worst car game ever. Also, if you’re looking at your phone and not the view, have a word with yourself. It’s not like you’ve even got a signal.
4. Go with the slow flow but don’t lose all sense of time. And if you do, set some alarms. You’ve got shows to do and ferries to catch, remember?
5. Enjoy the local spoils but don’t go overboard. Reaching for the ‘sealeg’ tablets in the throes of alcohol poisoning on a Stornaway Sunday is a desperate move and no whisky session is worth it, believe me.
Also, know your limits with shellfish. Don’t order fruit-de-la-mer if your body rejected that last oyster. I learned this the hard way too.
6. Be prepared to climb – and enjoy it. This is not Amsterdam. Oban, where I am right now, is a cliff-stacked town. It’s essentially vertical. Even the flat I’m in is a hundred stairs up. Respect gravity. Embrace geography. You’ve got to lean into these high lands – literally, or you’ll fall right off.
