Funny how things work out sometimes.

Literally seconds after hitting publish on our last blog post, we opened the curtains… and there it was. Blue skies. Sunshine. That kind of rare Highland weather that makes you stop and say, “Shame we’re not doing Ben Nevis today, the weather’s beautiful.”

Cue a solid half-hour of “Should we? Could we? Are we actually doing this?”

One quick chat with the campsite confirmed they had space for us (albeit on a different pitch), and just like that—it felt like a sign. The weather gods were saying, “It’s your time…”

So we moved the van, threw together a packed lunch, grabbed our gear, and by 9:45am, we were on the trail.

Let’s not sugarcoat it—the hike up Ben Nevis is brutal. There were at least three points where I nearly turned back, and it took every ounce of stubbornness I could summon to keep going.

Keith and Jazz handled the climb better than I did, but after four long hours, we reached the summit—touching the famous trig point at the top of the UK’s highest mountain.

Clouds had rolled in over the summit by then, so the views from the peak were a little grey—but the rest of the way up and down was absolutely stunning. Mountains, valleys, lochs… it was the Highlands at their best.

The way down didn’t offer much relief on our legs- That loose stone path is a killer on tired legs, and by the end, we were done in. But after three hours of cautious descent, we were finally back on solid, flat ground.

And let me tell you—the beer at the Ben Nevis Inn has never tasted so good.

So that’s it: Ben Nevis, officially ticked off the bucket list.

Tomorrow we can move onwards with no regrets whatsoever about our time in Fort William.