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Getting off-grid on wheels and in luxury — a tour of Scotland’s western coast

James Fisher James Fisher

Scotland's West Coast is one of the world's great natural wonders. What better way to explore it than in one of Wingbeat Escapes's luxurious campervans?

The first time I watched Goodfellas was only a few weeks ago. When I tell people this, the reaction is identical. Something along the lines of: ‘What! How have you only just seen Goodfellas!’. I was late to that particular party. I apologise, but at least I’ve seen it now.

There are many parties I have been late to, both literal and metaphorical. I am sure there are things that you, dear reader, have also not seen or done that would elicit a similar reaction. Have you been skydiving? Have you been to New Zealand? Have you seen the hit 1980 comedy film Airplane!? Have you passed your driving test? And so on.

But I am in the mood for sharing some of my deepest secrets, so here is another one that might surprise you. Until June, I had never been to the West Coast of Scotland. I know, I know. It was foolish of me, but I rectified it. And much like Goodfellas, and skydiving, and New Zealand, I understand what I was missing out on.

The train from London to Edinburgh takes about 4 hours, and it’s there that Annabel and I meet Ed and Lucy, who run a business known as Wingbeat Escapes. The idea is a simple one: camping, specifically off-grid camping, made easy and luxurious for the weekend warriors such as ourselves who like the idea of going off the beaten track without suffering any of the consequences. Their solution? Take an extended wheelbase Mercedes Sprinter van, and turn it into a campervan of extreme luxury and comfort. 

The campervan’s interior. Where luxury meets mobility. The bed folds back, leaving plenty of space to sit and enjoy breakfast, lunch or dinner during the day. Credit: Rob Martin

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A double bed with sheets like cream. A functioning kitchen with a proper fridge. A shower! Wi-fi and surround sound. And running water. All finished to an exceptional standard — indeed, I took notes for my own kitchen back home, such were the quality of the fittings. Have you ever seen wood in a campervan? I have. The best part is I could even stand up in it, which is pretty impressive considering I am about two-metres tall.

So that was the accommodation for our three-day journey, all wrapped up in a dark-green livery. The comfort box was certainly ticked. But could it survive in the hostile environs of Western Scotland? Absolutely, Ed and Lucy assured us. An onboard battery provides plenty of charge for phones, lights and laptops (absolutely no hair dryers, mind), and is topped up by solar panels as you drive. The water tank has more than enough space for a fair few showers, as well as the washing up, and can be refilled pretty much anywhere. It’s even got proper off-road tyres on. Perhaps its best feature, even if it wasn’t designed that way, is the extractor fan on the roof that does a stellar job of sucking out any midges that get in.

We begin our journey heading from Edinburgh north and then west, reaching our first destination on the shores of Loch Tummel in a few hours. The van is not exactly lightning fast, but it’s powerful enough to eat up miles on the motorway at 70mph in perfect comfort, before tackling the winding B-roads with ease. Having pitched up and plugged in (this campsite provided power, so no need to rely on the battery just yet), we went off to explore.

Taking on the wild landscape of western Scotland, with all of life’s little luxuries in tow.

A walk along the lake was the perfect tonic to the many horrors of city living, and there was even a brief discussion of a swim, but on closer inspection the water was a bit too cold. Alas. Back to the van for a pleasing dinner cooked in the farmhouse kitchen on wheels, a sentence I never thought I would type, and a quiet evening sitting in the lowering sun enjoying a glass of wine until the midges decided that enough was enough and it was time for bed. The only thing piercing the serene sound of the water lapping at the shores were the howls of Scotland football fans watching their national team get roundly defeated by Germany.

The next morning, with the water tanks topped up, we headed off. A brief stop at the House of Bruar was taken, as is tradition, before we made tracks west for Glencoe. Such is the joy of this part of Scotland that driving through the landscape can be just as enjoyable as walking through it, and as the mountains of the West Coast loomed before us, excitement set in. There are few roads more pleasant and picturesque than the A86, going past Loch Laggan and then Ben Nevis. Arriving at Ballachulish, a paddleboard was rented, and Annabel disappeared out onto the water, looking for seals.

I perched up at a pub on the water and enjoyed one of the more pleasant pints of beer I’ve had in my life, before hitting the supermarket and getting the ingredients for that night’s dinner. A surprisingly dry Annabel returned, having chased every seal she could find around Loch Leven, and we made our way to camp just outside Oban. Another delightful evening’s walk to the reservoir known as Gleann Dubh provided a spectacular vista of the surrounding coastline, but it was early to bed that evening, as the next day was the main event.

Loch Leven, where no seal was left unturned. Credit: Aubrey Stoll via Getty

An early start saw us park up in Oban and hop on the CalMac to Mull. From there, we were scooped up by the fine people at Turus Mara, who took us to the far side of the island, where we boarded a smaller ferry to visit the Treshnish Isles, specifically Lunga.

I’d never seen a puffin before, and neither had Annabel. After an hour on Lunga, I was more than happy to never see one again. The air practically vibrated with them, thousands upon thousands of the little colourful missiles streaking through the air and hopping around the undergrowth, curiously inspecting every member of our tour as we made our way around the island. We stopped and enjoyed our packed lunch opposite Dun Cruit, which we assumed was a perfectly unsuspecting rock until we realised every square inch of it was taken up with nesting guillemots. So dense were they packed in, that it was a miracle that they weren’t repeatedly all falling into the ocean. Puffins, guillemots, razorbills, kittiwakes and shags were what we ordered, and by the time we returned to port at Ulva Ferry, we were full.

The puffins of Lunga. Credit: Annabel Dolphin

Our final overnight stay was in one of Scottish Forestry’s many overnight spots, which let you stay in magical woodland for the very reasonable price of £7. Far from any artificial light and sound, the true beauty of the West Coast at night could be appreciated as stars danced overhead. After a third glass of whisky turned my eyelids to lead, it was time for bed.

Three days, three nights and the West Coast of Scotland finally ticked off the bucket list. A wild, natural place that is as visceral and gorgeous as anywhere else in the world. Packed with wildlife (both good and bad), and right there on our doorstep. There are plenty of ways to see it, I suppose, but by going in a Wingbeat campervan, you can fully expose and experience this majestic landscape. And when it all gets a bit too much, you can retreat into luxury — luxury, of course, that you can take with you. The best of both worlds, what’s better than that?