RSPB Nature Reserve, Glenborrodale

The beautiful summers evening we'd spent on the beach at Morar seemed like a dream today. The rain relentless, the cloud low, us miserable aware that down south the weather was beautiful. The forecast for Scotland this next week is terrible, apart from one day of sunshine. Therefore we felt it might be time to give up on Scotland and head back towards the Lake District.

Around two o' clock the rain eased and fully waterproofed we walked up into the nature reserve, carefully watching our footing so not to step on any of the snails and fat black slugs that were in heaven in the damp conditions.

The nature reserve is in an area that makes up part of Scotland's rain forest. Would they have a cafe in the rain forest? Apparently not! We know you don't come to Scotland for the weather but the stunning scenery, but today you could barely see the view. Back at Marge we resigned ourselves to spending the next seventeen hours inside. Oh joy!

Morar Beach Car Park, near Mallaig

This morning we were tired. And tense. Would our early start pay off. Fingers crossed. At a quarter to six we drove out, the white horses in the adjacent field puzzled at our departure. The wind was light as it blew threw the bog cotton. And it felt a little warmer. But we were off to find the sun. North Uist had made us miserable, that needed remedying. 

Yes we caught the early ferry. Us and three others standbys hoping to escape. John drove Marge on whilst Angela boarded as a foot passenger after a dash to the ticket office. The run up the gangplank testing her fitness, but the thought of being left behind on the island fuelled her. She was the last person to board and now the ship could leave.

Whilst waiting in the vehicle queue we met a lady from Australia. She'd been due to leave later today, but like us had seen enough. We sat together during the crossing whilst breakfasting and enjoying each other's conversations. Before we knew it the Calmac ferry Hebrides was veering to one side as it turned into it's berth at Uig harbour.

We'd returned to Skye and the sun was out. It was warm. We were happy again, but very tired. Stopping to buy yet more food, conscious of the ever increasing food bill we'd be paying when our next credit card bill came in, we decided to head down to Armadale and try to board a ferry back to Mallaig. The ferry booking system showed there were no spaces, but we knew there might be if we arrived in good time.

Our drive through the mountains and vistas of Skye filled us with joy. We'd missed these views, and we welcomed the warmth of the sun on our normally shivering bodies. Coffee and cake to comfort us we waited to see if we'd be able to board the last ferry of the day. Whilst waiting we talked to an Irish coach driver about Ireland's wild Atlantic way. A drive that's on our bucket list to do. After a teasing by the ferry staff as to whether we'd be boarding or not, we were manoeuvred on at the rear of the ferry, along with four other vehicles. Result!

So now we are back at the beautiful beach near Mallaig we stayed at last weekend. It's not quite as busy, but we still had to wait for a space. Which was fine. Once parked up a lovely picnic on the beach for our evening meal.

Tomorrow we will start heading back towards the Isle of Mull. Our happy place.

Lochmaddy, North Uist

Early yesterday evening a mist rolled in off the sea stopping at the shore line on Sollas Beach. The wind dropped and a watery sun lit the sand. It felt cold. No colder. The Oyster Catchers and Artic Terns were a chaotic scene of flapping wings and screeching calls as a larger predator dipped and dived. Despite the chaos, the cows and their calves penned in by wire fencing adorned with air drying seaweed, sat and chilled. 

Darkness falls late here, around eleven-thirty. Before that time a satsuma of a sun hung in a sky of fire. The sunsets here, when they happen are amazing.

The next morning we drove to nearby Lochmaddy to use the showers at the marina. Another eight pound spent, but this time it included two hot drinks. Above the rocks looking out across the harbour sat two stags. Their antlers a giveaway as they nestled in the long grass. Overhead an eagle flew back and forth. A beautiful sight. The gate to the facilities was open, and we weren't sure if we could use them or not. So we did. Whilst John was showering someone locked the outer gate. Oh dear! Fortunately a fisherman nearby told John the code to exit. Thank goodness. 

On then to an off-road park up just above yet another stunning beach. 

But upon our return from our walk we were shocked to see an ugly large white plastic box in front of us, blocking the view. What's wrong with people? A huge grassed area and they park almost touching us. Upset we left. We were fed up with the weather, and this was the final straw. We decided to leave the outer Hebrides and return to Skye. 

Tonight's night's park up is brilliant though. Another ten pound donation required, and there was just us and one other van. We walked out scanning the seaweed covered rocks for otters. Despite signs they'd been feeding they are illusive.

 Precariously crossing a wooden suspension bridge we stepped inside 'the Hut of Shadows'. A camera obscura. We couldn't stay out long though as we needed an early night. To have any hope of obtaining a standby ticket in the morning we had to be a the ferry terminal by six-thirty, so up at five.

Sollas, North Uist

Just before midnight last night Angela decided to sleep in the lower area of Muddy Marge. The wind was just slight of 20 mph, but we were positioned above the beach and Angela felt a little unnerved. 

This morning the incoming tide brought the sun with it, lighting the sea, showcasing it colours of green and blue. Beautiful. But the wind was cold. It didn't matter though. It wasn't raining!  Suddenly our compact living conditions didn't seem so tight. Tomorrow it'll be three weeks since we left home. In those three weeks we've worked out what works and what doesn't work with regard to our living arrangements, and think we have now cracked it. The three of us, Angela, John and 'the boxio' all comfortable in each others company. John likens are tiny space as 'like living in a bathroom!'.

Still in drifting mode we drove just six miles along the coast to Sollas, a small crofting township, where we stayed whilst visiting the island last year. We parked Muddy Marge up in the same space we parked Marge the VW last year, wrapped ourselves up against the wind and set off on a walk across the machair, climbing down the dunes, the sand shifting beneath our feet. Once again, we were greeted by another endless perfect beach. The surf was up. The rolling waves of the ocean followed by a gusting wind which sculptured the sand dunes as it passed through.

Walking back in the strong wind did not excite us, so instead we walked up and over the dunes finding the farm track that led back to Marge. Along the way we passed a graveyard of damaged and abandoned vehicles slowly rotting in the salty coastal air and extreme winter weather. The walk had taken us three hours. The longest since we'd arrived in Scotland as Angela couldn't exert herself too much when she was unwell. Tired we were glad to hunker down inside out of the wind and enjoy our late lunch before taking advantage of a strong WiFi signal to catch up on some programmes we'd missed. 

The wind is due to ease a little during the night

 But we'll be alright here almost on a level with the sea. The parking area is slightly raised and surrounded by a defence of large rocks. At the moment the tide has retreated as far as the eye can see. But once it begins to track it's way back towards us we know it will be at a rate of knots, and in no time the tidal marshes visible at the moment will slowly disappear in some areas. At six o'clock clock we are the only overnighters on this official camping spot. Once again the donation is ten pounds. We are sure when the ferry arrives from the Isle of Skye this evening we will probably be joined by other vans. For now it's just us and the oyster catchers, and that suits us just fine.

Clachan Sands, North Uist

Yesterday evening we sat inside the Calmac ferry booking hall until they closed. The rain wouldn't relent and it made more sense to sit and read in a more spacious area. 

Back at Marge a German couple came over to take a look. After that John couldn't find the vehicle's ignition key and steering lock key. We tried looking in all the obvious places to no avail. Feeling more than a little concerned we literally turned the inside out. Cushions moved, cupboards emptied. Even the roof rack was checked. Nothing. Fortunately Angela had the spare set of keys, but we really needed to find the other set. We even reported to rummaging through the waste bins, so desperate had the situation become. Needless to say we suffered a disturbed nights sleep what with the concern and yet more door slammers near us!

This morning we rise at six thirty to search again. Nothing. A decision had to be made. Should we take our sailing to North Uist or stay on Skye in the hope the keys would turn up? North Uist won. After all we'd driven Marge the VW around Europe for five years with just one ignition key. Not such a clever idea we know.

Before joining the departure queue John left his contact details at the booking desk in case someone found the keys and handed them in. We didn't hold out much hope. We were convinced if we emptied out Muddy Marge again we might find them, hopefully. 

Then John's mobile rang. Were we still in Uig? Were we in the ferry queue? Yes and yes. A staff member on the pier had the keys and would hand them to us just before we boarded. That moment was a real game changer. We can't explain the relief. Angela told the young man who had them she could kiss him, but wouldn't. Just like her mother!

As the Hebridean slipped it's berth and cut through the calm water we placed ourselves first in the queue at the restaurant and ordered two full breakfasts. Angela vegetarian, John a full Scottish. Not sure he enjoyed the large piece of Lorne (square sausage) though. Tired, but now elated we settled down for the rest of the crossing. The north coast of Skye passed by the windows, rocky outcrops covered in green baize. Time to leave the island to today's influx of tourists. One million people are expected to visit this Skye this year.Thats a lot of pressure on a small island.

No rain today, just a cold north easterly wind which whipped across the open land of north Uist. But we don't care. The fact it was no longer raining was good enough for us. Our first stop on the island Clachan Sands, an area above a beautiful beach of white sand was just over a half hour drive away. We headed for it knowing there was water available so we could do some hand washing. A long walk down the vast beach collecting shells along the way and then a walk back through the machair stopping to photograph the pretty mix of flowers. White daisies, golden buttercups, birds-foot trefoil, yellow rattle and ladies bedstraw. Nearby in the sandy banks of the dunes rabbits burrowed and plovers and oystercatchers sounded the alert as four ravens circled and dived around them. 

The views here are amazing, especially now the tide has retreated so far out revealing the flat sands silvery in the late afternoon light. We've come to the Uists for peace and quiet. Hopefully we've found it. The donation in the honesty box is ten pounds to stay here. We think you can't put a price on such a magical place.