Intense

Day 9; Still 518 miles from Oxfordshire

It's funny how we have to keep reminding one another of where we were on which day, how many camp sites we have been to, how many islands, the order that things happened, where we woke up 'yesterday morning'. I think we have had too many experiences in too short a time for our brains to process - probably combined with too little sleep for our subconscious processing to tuck it away into tidy memories

This is not because we have a carefully plotted schedule of activities - anything but: our days have been serendipitous, opportunist and spontaneous. I think it is just that there is so much variety, so much continuous novelty and such extremes of light, colour, weather, landscape and vegetation that we are a little overwhelmed

Today the Hebrides showed what it is capable of. The skies and the air cleared, the beaches turned lustrous, the sea acquired intense shades of blue and green, turquoise and cobalt, overlain with shifting patterns of light and shadow, sun-glitter and wind-ruffle. We lost count of the causeways we crossed between islands. Sometimes we lost certainty of whether we were on land infiltrated by water or on water with raised paths. In the end, we reached this tiny landing, from which a rudimentary ferry took us and eight other vehicles the 5 miles to the final island, all the while ploughing through not just water but a wall of wind

The wind is still unceasing - in fact building in intensity - tearing at my tent as if incensed that I have the nerve to drive pegs into the sand. Another night on which not much mental filing happens, I think