Day Fifty

Bit of a travel day today. We spent most of the day driving up the
west coast to the Skye bridge to go across to the Isle of Syke.
We go along one of the smaller roads that skims the coast from time
to time, but mostly it travels through small villages which are quite
pretty. We stop for lunch on a cliff top, and an enterprising
Scotsman has donned full kilt and bagpipes, playing in intermittent
bursts, and selling his music on CD. You have to admire his
dedication – it’s raining, but it does sounds rather nice and makes a
lovely accompaniment to lunch.
We make our way to the bridge by mid afternoon. It’s new – the last
time Chris was here, it was a ferry. Skye, like most islands, looks tiny
on the map,but in fact it’s quite large. Mainly farming communities
that run sheep for wool, the Isle was also known for its crofters
cottages.
It’s a very different landscape to the one we have come from. There
are almost no trees in the area we cross, and whilst mountainous,
they are very bare. Part of some mountains look like moonscape.
Lots of sheep great us, and they are clearly kings of the road here as
they have, and demand right of way.
We spend our first night “out in the wild” at the base of a mountain
ridge. It’s ok, as it’s remote, but I have to say that as I stay up to
read, every sound makes me jump. We are fine though, and are
joined by a French family following in our footsteps who stay the
night in the same spot.

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