It cost R15-something to buy one pound the day we bought our foreign exchange. We had been planning a trip to Scotland for three years and, as 2001 came to a close, we watched the performance of the rand with heavy hearts. Should we stay at home? No. No way. We gritted our teeth and tucked our precious sterling deep in our wallets.
"We must be daft," said my husband, "South Africans can't afford to go to Britain anymore. What are we going to eat?"
With that in mind I packed a flask, so we could make our own coffee, and even considered throwing in a couple of tins of beans so we wouldn't starve.
In the end we lived very well - and came home with a couple of uncashed travellers cheques, too. Touring Britain on a budget with a three-year-old in tow can be done.
Airfares excluded, the two-week trip cost R20 000. That included three nights in London, two nights in Edinburgh, seven nights touring Scotland, a hired car for a week and £50 spending money per day. The spending money was enough to cover food, petrol, bus and tube fares, entrance fees and a couple of decent souvenirs, including a bottle of whiskey.
The big secret to really stretching your pound is to hightail it out of the cities and self-cater. Our trip to London, Edinburgh and then into the Scottish Highlands was in May, on carefully chosen dates outside peak season.
We flew British Airways to take advantage of their "Rand Saver" special offers, which was a good call when we saw the price of accommodation in London. For £38 each we stayed in an adequate hotel in Earls Court, our toddler stayed free and breakfast was part of the deal. Okay, when you multiply it by 15 it sounds a lot, but the hotel price list showed us that British and European visitors were paying as much as £120 a night each.
We ate badly in London. A decent cup of Starbucks coffee cost over £2 and food in restaurants is out of reach of the average South African traveller so it was pies, pies and more pies for the two days we spent here. One little splurge of burgers in the Rainforest Cafe in Piccadilly Circus, which is packed with South African waiters, set us back R500.
The moment we landed in Scotland our money lasted longer. Edinburgh, like London, is geared for tourists, but with a little searching, it's easy to find local pubs where food costs a fraction of the price of meals served up on the Royal Mile.
For two plates of haggis, tatties and neeps, one plate of beef stew, two pints of lager and a Coke our bill at the Halfway House pub in a back alley cost £11.70, which felt bearable.
We booked our accommodation at a bed and breakfast in Edinburgh through a brochure posted to us by Scottish Tourism. This is a country that loves brochures and is very Internet friendly.
Public transport in Edinburgh is frequent and affordable - certainly cheaper than hiring a car for cruising around a city with no parking.
The big gamble was a week-long stay in a self- catering cottage in the Cairngorm Mountains, booked over the Internet. It cost R3 975 - which we paid via bank transfer before we left.
We had no idea what to expect the day we collected our hired car and headed into the country. With our flask of hot chocolate we sat under the statue of Robert the Bruce at Bannockburn, marvelling at tales of a desperate war fought in 1314 against the tyranny of the brutal English invaders.
This was the landscape where William Wallace, Scotland's greatest freedom fighter, reigned. Stirling Castle, the Wallace Monument and the beautiful village could have kept us busy all day.
In a cemetery near the village of Callander we knelt at the grave of Rob Roy, imagining this defiant people's hero galloping through the heather.
Back in the car we ate apples, strawberries and biscuits, bought from a local supermarket. Our cottage, on the Bluefolds farm, was about an hour's drive from Aberdeen.
Wow, it had a washing machine, microwave, satellite TV, CD player, central heating and a view of the distant snow-covered Cairngorms that took one's breath away. Best of all, it was a renovated stone- packed building. We really felt we were in the heart of Scotland.
The fire in the grate was burning when we arrived and a complimentary bottle of red wine stood beckoning on the kitchen counter. Before we could uncork it, though, our host, Steve Oliver, arrived with a twelve-year-old single malt whiskey from the nearby Glenlivet Distillery under his arm.
Steve was a mine of information. We needed a quiet day where our little boy could escape the confines of the car for a few hours, I told him.
He suggested Lossiemouth, a fishing village on the North Sea about an hour away. The next day we were building sand castles and eating ice creams on an infinite white beach. There was a hint of sun for a while. That night we ate haggis, potatoes and a giant turnip all bought from the butcher in Dufftown - the whole meal cost less than £5.
John O'Groats, the northern-most tip of Scotland, was to be our next outing. Because of the long distance we would overnight somewhere on the north coast before coming back to Bluefolds. An absolutely necessary stop for our morning flask and cheese sarmies was Loch Ness. We looked hard to see Nessie, but true to form she kept a low profile.
The landscape of John O'Groats is not beautiful. It's a windswept flat countryside, full of sheep. Nevertheless we made it there and my husband took his shoes off and waded into the sea.
Scotland's real beauty begins around a small village called Tongue, about half way across the top of the country, where we stayed in a comfortable B&B for £18 each. Breakfast was bacon and eggs.
We took the long route home, through Ullapool, and stood longingly on the pier watching the ferry to Stornoway, capital of the Hebrides.
Later in the week we visited the Walkers shortbread factory in Aberlour, the Glenlivet distillery and spent a wonderful morning at Ballindalloch Castle. The River Spey and the River Avon flow through the castle's grounds, which are open and free. We had the added benefit of watching the Laird's (a lady, by the way) herd of prize black Angus cattle tramp past.
A day in Aberdeen to see the Maritime museum, go shopping and visit a grandparent's birthplace made it well worth the drive.
Back in London we were on pies again, although a family reunion meant we got to eat pizza and drink wine one night. A highlight with the little fellow was an afternoon in Hamleys, the finest toyshop in the world.
All too quickly we were waiting for our plane in Heathrow. Thank heavens British Airways offers non-stop cartoons - a bonus that made the flight with a toddler positively heavenly. Next trip is to the Hebrides - apparently Harris tweed is a real bargain.
- All costs, including airfares, paid for by the writer.
- Call 011 325 0343 or see www.visitscotland.com.