The Isle of Skye

We travelled north from Glasgow and stopped for a look at Balloch, and the southern tip of Loch Lomond.

Even in cold and rather threatening weather, it was still very attractive, with the imposing Ben Lomond rising into the most in the distance. There were very few people around, but, judging by the acres of car parking, it must be packed in summer.

Then we spent the night just south of Fort William before catching the ferry from Mallaig to Armadale, on the south of the island.

Actually, this glosses over an episode of incompetence by the boys in the party, who between them couldn’t get the **$$@&!! car into reverse gear! Calls to the rental company and a wait for roadside assistance - who then kindly showed us what to do and, more kindly, didn’t laugh out loud - meant our drinks at the local pub were well-earned.

We arrived on Skye in the rain, and made our way to the Fairy Pools. Cascading blue and green pools, they say. Gushing, grey-brown water oozing out of every pore of the countryside is what we found, so damp was everything. It was still rather special, although the cold wind and sporadic showers of rain made it a bit uncomfortable.

The following day we drove north-east to a series of fascinating landmarks, the countryside largely treeless and covered in heather and other low, hardy plants. Hills are steep, with numerous watercourses tumbling down their slopes. Each glimpse of the sea is another beautiful vista, even in the grey rain and mist.

In between sojourns in the car, we piled out, rugged up, paid handsomely for parking and walked up to another landmark.

The Old Man of Storr and The Quirang are basalt pinnacles towering over the surrounding area. Kilt Rock is a 105-metre ocean cliff and Mealt Falls drop straight off the edge of the island into the ocean.

Then there’s Lealt Falls and the Fairy Glen, which was very picturesque, although there were no fairies about. There was quite an amount of fairy droppings on the ground, though, so we could tell they had been there.

The driving between many of these locations was on single-lane roads, with passing places every fifty or hundred metres apart. It was a little nerve wracking, with oncoming traffic emerging from blind crests and curves, a little too much speed and plenty of oversized camper vans taking up space.

Our final stop on Skye was Dunvegan Castle, quite nicely preserved and filled with stories of the local Lairds and assorted tenuous connections to royalty.

That concluded a busy few days. We stayed in a very remote bed and breakfast, with wonderful sea views but certainly not walkable to anything except more hills, so are looking forward to finding a pub in Inverness in the next chapter.Read more