The Sunday Times July 21, 2019 2139 MELLON UDRIGLE, HIGHLANDS
Turn off the A832 at Laide and take the
left turn through the gate just after the
hamlet of Achgarve. At the end of the
track are the ruins of Slaggan — a crofting
community abandoned in the 1940s.
Retrace your steps, turning left at the
track. A mile north, you’ll come to
Mellon Udrigle. You’ll recognise it
because it looks like heaven: a sheltered
crescent of bone-white sand and sky-blue
sea against a backdrop of the Summer
Isles. Tents aren’t allowed, but if you’ve
got a camper van, you can park up here
for £10 a night and keep watch for sea
otters. Otherwise, try to rent a cottage:
the hottest property is the four-bedroom
Beach House (from £800 a week;
mellonudrigle.com).
40 CAYTON SANDS,
NORTH YORKSHIRE
If Scarborough’s neon-lit sugar rush is
all too much, head five miles south to
the empty sands and clean waters of
Cayton Sands, where crumbly green
slopes lead down to a beach with
buried treasures. If this mile-long bay
were in Cornwall, it would be rammed,
but hidden as it is amid a confusion
of cul-de-sacs off the A165, it remains
known mainly to local surfers, dog
walkers and fossil hunters, who come
here to search the foreshore — especially
after a scouring tide — for ammonites and
petrified starfish.
£3
Free
O
h, how I long for those
sweet, sweet words
being squawked from
the back seat of the car:
“Are we there yet?”
For my parents’
generation, this was what
punctuated long journeys.
But for me, it has been
replaced by a new
intolerable utterance from
the kids: “Can we watch
the iPad?” And repeat.
There’s only one thing
for it: car games. As a child,
I was given I-Spy books
for our annual odyssey
to the south of France —
and recently discovered
a batch, half filled out,
rotting away in my parents’
attic. It was always
disappointing: a lot of
ticks for Ford Escorts andAustin Maestros, not many
for the Lotus Elite.
The verbal I-spy game
was a miss, because it was
always spoilt by some
smarty pants.
“H? H? We give up, what
is it?”
“Hockey stick. I saw a
man in a van with one as
we passed Coventry.”
So, for the Coney Family
2.0, there are some new
(yet retro) activities.
First up is the Song
Game — a blatant rip-off
from Radio 4’s I’m Sorry I
Haven’t a Clue. Choose a
tune, sing along, then
someone turns the sound
down. You must keep
singing and hope that
when the sound is turned
back up, you’re in the right
place. Bonus points for
Bohemian Rhapsody
and an extra Werther’s
Original for anyone
who can beat
me rapping to
Will Smith’s
Summertime.
Then it’s the
Lorry Game. You
all pick two trucks,for example, where each
person takes turns reciting
a shopping list, then adds
an item using the next
letter in the alphabet.
That’s not the stumbling
block — what stops the
game is the shame of
hearing your nine-year-old
adding “buffalo mozzarella”
and “quinoa”.
Before you get bored,
it’s eyes down for Number
Plate Bingo (but not for
too long, young Charlie,
we don’t want you getting
carsick). Draw a grid,
choose 12 pairs of numbers
and off we go. Shout when
you see them, but each one
has to be independently
verified by another player.
Oh, how the time flies by.
Now if you can just hold on
to Winchester services for
that loo break ...
James ConeyBismillah! No, we will not let you go (Let him go!)LET THE GAMES BEGIN THE CAR JOURNEY SURVIVAL GUIDE
one from a big retailer
(Tesco, Argos et al — or
Carrefour, if you’re on the
Continent) and another
from a haulage company.
It’s five points for every
one you spot from theformer and 10 from the
latter. Be wary of the true
connoisseurs who pick
Royal Mail and Gist.
Memory games have
proved less successful. I
Went to the Supermarket,No one can beat
me rapping to
Summertime in
the Song Game