Harris Tweed

After our arrival in Harris yesterday in Stygian gloom with horizontal rain hammering on the bus windows, there was a beautiful sunrise this morning

Although the wind is picking up again for tomorrow's sea crossing to Skye, it was balmy as we stepped out early to sample the wares at the new distillery. It has never happened before, but I might get used to drinking gin at 10:15 in the morning. The bottles on sale containing the gin are a work of art in themselves, but were too big, too heavy and too expensive to warrant carrying one back as promised for daughter #5. Gordon's will have to suffice in her Christmas stocking.

Our next port of call was the Harris Tweed shop, where Shekels were parted with for several pieces of tweed. I know not what I will make of them, but hopefully inspiration will come over the winter.

After a short walk to stretch our legs, we met up with our Rhenigidale friends. She was at school with me in Edinburgh, and when her husband retired they moved into her grandmother's house right down on the shore at Rhenigidale which she describes as living at the 'back of the back of beyond'.
It is 12 miles to Tarbet from their house on a vertiginous single track road that helped to burn out the clutch of our car 2 years ago when we last visited them.
At least there is a road now, 30 years ago there wasn't, and the only transport was by sea. Today they came to us, and we caught up with their news over coffee and lunch.

Tomorrow, we return to the big smoke providing the public transport doesn't let us down.