Beachlight

It's been a funny old trip to Skye. The weather has probably been the worst of any trip we've had, though only two days were lost to rain, and we did see some patches of blue in the sky. Save for one day we kept to our northern part of the island, though it is our favourite bit, with the drive south feeling like time wasted when we could be walking. And walk we did, only repeating one wander that we'd done before in the last 8 years, with a number of walks still waiting in the wings. AND it's probably our best trip thus far for wildlife.

But all that is in the past, as we strike for the unknown with the ferry leaving Uig for Tarbert on the Isle of Harris.

There's time on arriving to drop the bikes off the back of the car at the 'cottage' (we're staying in a four bedroomed house on the shore of a sea loch) and head up to Stornoway for some shopping, aware if he impending sabbath and the greater difficulty in finding provisions as a result in these religious isles. Although it seems Lewis is a bit easier going than Harris on that score (incidentally no-one appears entirely sure why the two islands are referred to as two islands when they are clearly one- best guess appears to be an old clan division).

Harris is rocky and dramatic; Lewis appears more moor and heather in the main. Harris wins so far from drives through both. We're staying a few hundred yards into the north end of the Golden Road, so took a drive south along undulating tarmac, treated to a Golden Eagle soaring, before reaching the west side of the island and it's stunning golden beaches. We found ourselves around the corner from Luskentyre with a small bay to ourselves, the sun countering the wind, and we obtained a dog for twenty minutes (we presume he came from a local house)...

Not a bad start.