Uig

At five o' clock this morning the wind was up. Luckily Marge was positioned into it so she didn't shake about too much. Shortly after the rain arrived. The wind is on our mind. The forecast for Tuesday is strong winds of 45 mph, so we will have to make sure we find a sheltered spot for us and Marge. 

Our outing today was to the Quiraing, a unique formation of rocks caused by a landslip. They were just three miles away. Nice easy start to the day Marge.

Call this easy, hold tight we're going around this hairpin bend, best pray no one's coming the other way. That was the easy one Marge, come on give it some grunt. I'll give you something if you don't shut up, she said as her front wheels slipped on some loose gravel. Stop it Marge, you're scaring us. Clean underwear anybody? 

The walk up to the prison, needle and table (rocks) was a little challenging. Muddy and narrow with shear drops, very shear drops. But the views were breath-taking. The atmosphere mystical and moody.

A perfect spot for the keen photographers standing right at the edge of the mountains to get that perfect shot. Do something every day that frightens you, we were on our second already and it wasn't even lunchtime.

At the prison Angela decided to sit it out while John ventured further. We'd met a man walking his dog on the way up and he stopped to chat. He had moved to the area two and a half years ago from Dorchester, which is close to where we live now. He pointed out the ravens flying overhead. As Angela waited for John four of them flew between the rocks, communicating with each other in a croaking call. After a while Angela decided to go it alone and ventured on a short while before she met John coming the other way. Oh goody, we have to walk back now. No looking down. At one particular pinch point three young women were blocking the narrow path, more worried they didn't have a signal to post photographs of them posing. Social media has a lot to answer for. Reluctantly they moved aside. Upon our return to Marge, we rewarded ourselves with a haggis burger and hot dog from the snack van in the car park. The hot dogs were supposed to be the best on Skye according to a post on the internet. They must be the only people selling them then, or they put the post up themselves. Tasty yes, very expensive yes, the best ever, certainly not. As with all nerve-wracking experiences, we felt exhilarated from the walk. Another box ticked.

Time to go Marge. We drove further along the single-track road to Uig, travelling over a landscape owned by the sheep. Stopping at the viewpoint we could see Uig down below.

The tide was out, the shore carpeted in mustard coloured seaweed. Ahead Marge could see the approaching hair pin bend. But she wasn't fazed, they are always better approached from above. 

Tonight, Marge is settled across from the Calmac ferry office with a fantastic view across the working harbour. We stayed here last year, remember Marge? During the afternoon showers passed over the harbour interspaced with blue skies and warm sunshine. 

On a nearby mountain the colours of a rainbow were clearly visible. Early evening, we walked out along the pier. A flock of seagulls were squabbling in the water near the fishing boats, amongst them undeterred a seal swam, diving in to the water before we could photograph it.

Just after six the ferry arrived from Uist. Half of the vehicles disembarking were campervans and motorhomes. Fifteen minutes later it embarked back to whence it came. This was the last ferry of the day. The first ferry to leave in the morning is at 5.15 am, so we are expecting to be disturbed in the early hours, but so be it, it goes with the territory. Meanwhile an early night awaits. two big walks in two days are taking its toll.

Staffin Beach

So far, so good this morning. Although it rained in the night blue skies parted the pale clouds as we ate breakfast. Please let today be fine.

Next to Marge was a van from Cornwall. As the woman swept, yes swept it out, we could see the interior had been panelled out to look like the exterior of a beach hut. Quirky, hey Marge? 

We left at nine thirty, the weather was an improving picture. As we drove, we could clearly see the red Cuillin mountains. The traffic heading towards us was heavy with many vans and caravans.

After Portree we caught sight of the Old man of Storr with a blue sky above. Result. Arriving at the car park, it seemed lots of people had had the same idea as us. Get there early before the weather changes. 

All kitted out, we set off up the path, our legs complaining. But soon we loosened up, and got into our stride. This was our third time of doing this climb in a year. Up at the top near the viewpoint Angela thought she might abstain from climbing the last few steps because she might feel vertiginous looking down. John reassured her she'd be fine. Onwards and upwards. The view from the top was spectacular. Below us stood the old man, and in front we could clearly see the island of Rathsay.

 Vertigo, what vertigo, just don't look down. Then from nowhere a curtain of rain blew across. Quick waterproof trousers on, easy said than done on top of a mountain in the wind. We'd come prepared. Oh, you wore micro shorts, did you? Shame about the mud on your new sketcher's trainers. Last year when we walked here some people were wearing flip flops! For goodness' sake, we're climbing a mountain not walking to the beach.  Climbing down as we were just below the old man, we decided to walk around the back of it. A sign said, Do Not Go Beyond This Point. Why? Because of rock falls. More like bloody fools thought Marge.

We met a couple coming towards us, and they reassured us we could easily walk around, so we did, and it was. Then a slow descent, we didn't want any broken ankles, although in the unlikely event we could always ride down in the tracked wheelbarrow kept on the mountain to move rocks for the pathway. 

Over two and a half hours later we were back at Marge. You didn't break your necks then. No Marge, we missed you too. Having achieved our objective, we rewarded ourselves with a bowl of lentil soup whilst our jacket and trousers dried in the returning sunshine.

Lunch eaten, next stop Kilt Falls, but not before using the new service point for vans by the new toilets. Toilet emptying, fresh water and grey water disposal (by bucket or container only). Fill you boots Marge, or rather empty your loo.

Kilt Rock was busy, lots of tourists arriving in mini buses. We visited here last year, but as we were driving this way, we thought we should stop. Then on to Staffin Beach, where there are dinosaur footprints on the beach which we saw last year.

 We will stay here tonight down by the fisherman's lock ups near to the slipway. The basalt cliffs tower above us. Across to the mainland the blue grey mountains are tinged with pink from a setting sun. It's a popular spot, there are lots of other vans here. The road down was tight, with very few passing places and heavily pot holed, so another challenging exit for Marge tomorrow.   

Bacon, egg and beans tonight. There's something about the smell of bacon cooking. Some men from the other vans are circling Marge. Sorry Marge we don't think you're attracting them this time. 

Some of the huge blocks of Basalt which had crashed down from the cliffs onto the beach.

Broadford

During the night the rain lashed Marge. However, she was spared the wind as we had positioned her to face into it. This morning we awoke to a dreary drizzle. The view however across the bay was clear. John spotted an otter just off the shore.

We watched it in the water and on the nearby rocks where it ate the fish it had caught. Then it disappeared back into the water near to a bobbing seal.

Not to be deterred by the weather we clothed ourselves in our waterproof clothing and walked around the bay to the ruins of Dunscaith Castle passing some cows, one of which was chewing on a length of plastic rope. John tried to coax the animal nearer to him so he could retrieve the rope, but the cow was having none of it.

The cattle and sheep roam free here, and we realised that plastic was not just a threat to sea-life. Our feet slipped on the wet pebbles and rocks as we picked our way across the beach and by the time, we reached the castle we were nearly blown off our feet by the wind so we only stayed a short while before walking back to Marge, this time via the path and roadway. 

Right Marge, time to navigate our way out of Tokavaig. Gird your loins this may be scary. It was! Narrow, winding and steep 14 % climbs. Where are we? In the clouds Marge. We knew on a nice day the view would have been fantastic. The weather forecast today was for rain all day so we drove the few miles along the wet road back to the ferry terminal at Armadale where we knew we would have signal to check messages, post the blog and catch up on Master Chef. There were other vans there with the same idea. Let's just sit the weather out Marge. It was obvious that our visit to Skye would not be like last year when we enjoyed the natural wonders and amazing scenery of the island. We had returned purely for one reason and that was to once again climb the Old Man of Storr approaching it and photographing it from the Trotternish Ridge side. So, we are leaving early in the morning to climb it in the hope the weather will hold. 

Whilst at Armadale the mountains on the mainland slipped in and out of the cloud and the rain felt unrelenting. Marge knowing, she had outstayed her welcome got ready to leave. The vans were circling, who would get her space. We'd decided to overnight at Broadford in a parking area overlooking Broadford bay, just beside the road, purely because we knew it was a good spot (despite the road), and we would not have to negotiate narrow roads first thing in the morning which was time consuming.

On the way we stopped off at Isleornsay, a white-cottage village overlooking the tiny island of Ornsay. On a sunny day it would have been beautiful. 

Just before eight this evening, the sky dark, the rain gave in and we were able to walk out glad to be out of the confines of Marge and out in the open air. Today had been a real washout, but you can't win them all. We just hope tomorrow the weather will be kinder to us. 

Tokavaig

Oh, what a beautiful morning. Where did that come from, rain was the forecast for today. We moved Marge next to the large van so we could run our hose from the tap and top up her water tank. Close the blinds said Marge, I'm don't want those people looking in. Stop it Marge, we'll give you a sweep out in a while. Look, they're wearing sheepskin carpet slippers. Behave Marge, you've hardly got any carpet anyway, what's wrong with crocs? Quick close the door they might see our bucket, they've probably got a washer dryer. He's got an electric toaster. Don't you start John. O.K. let's get the inflatable hoover out, it's time to clean Marge.

We didn't leave until late morning taking advantage of the weather to dry our clothes off. As the narrow roads opened up into a two-way road John's mobile beeped. Signal! First message from John's sister, second from Angela's son who is on holiday in Poole with his family and unwell, so we made a quick phone call to check all was well.

Just after, we passed under one of the viaducts crossed daily by the Jacobite steam train, then a little further on we stopped to look at The Princes Cairn. This was the site where Bonnie Prince Charlie set sail for France fleeing Scotland.

In the water we thought we spotted an otter. No, it was a snorkeler with a very large rubber clad bottom.

Our destination was Mallaig, a town we said we'd never return to after some problems last year. Drive in slowly Marge, keep your head down, don't draw attention to us. At Mallaig the Jacobite (or as Harry Potter fans know it the Hogwart Express) was in the station.

We'd seen it briefly last year as it passed us by whilst travelling to Mallaig but never close up. Parking Marge up opposite, Angela walked up to the ferry terminal to book tickets for the vehicle ferry to the Isle of Skye. There was no space until the six ten sailing. Not wanting to stay overnight in Mallaig she booked Marge on.

On the way back to the van Angela picked up haddock and chips, and very nice they were too. As we walked around the town after our lunch we could see the ferry from Skye approaching. Did the lady at the ticket office say we were on the 6.10 sailing or 16.10 sailing. Wearing a face mask seems to affect Angela's hearing. So we rushed back to Marge, fired her up and went to the ferry terminal. No Marge you're not on this sailing, get out of the queue. We were on the ten past six. Whilst we waited to return to the terminal we sat in Marge and looked across to Skye. We couldn't believe a year had passed since we were here last.

The town of Mallaig this year was much busier and friendlier. There were coaches arriving with Harry Potter fans excited about boarding their beloved Hogwarts Express. The Christmas decorations were still up in the town as they were last year. Why bother taking them down?

Early evening the ferry slipped its berth. Today had seemed a lost day, but it was not really. The drive from this area to the Skye bridge would have taken Marge about four and a half hours. She doesn't like to rush. It had also given us a chance to see Mallaig in a different light, and to see the Jacobite.

A note to van owners. There are now new toilets in the main car park in Mallaig, with showers, fee payable. We were a little annoyed that we hadn't noticed the showers earlier as we were parked very near this facility, but hey ho, we'll know next time. 

The ferry arrived at Armadale a few minutes early. The rain arrived as well. We had an overnight stop already chosen on recommendation from a couple who were next to us on our first night at Ardtoe. As Marge powered along a wide main road we covered the first few miles with ease until we turned off, then the driving really got interesting. A narrow winding road populated with sheep and cows and just to liven the journey up a hill with a gradient of 20%. Great!. At one point Marge gasped, she was in first gear and had to find that little bit extra. Well done Marge, this is the only road in and out so sorry you'll have to do it all again tomorrow. 

Our overnight spot is beautiful. Even through the rain we can see the mountains on the mainland. The view is raw and wild, and stunning. Marge all settled, John spotted something in the water nearby. Our very first otter spotted by ourselves. This was great. We'd have to add this to our 'wee bloggy' this evening.

The weather doesn't look good for tomorrow, but we'll go with it whatever. You never know we may even see some more otters.