Feasting

We were in trouble with the Calmac boys. Four minutes late for the queue for the Mallaig to Armadale ferry. Once on Skye with time to spare, we thought it a shame to miss out on the Cuillins, so we drove up past a few old haunts to Portree. It was buzzing with tourists but was so much more geared up for it too, with excellent sandwiches and treats for a fishing picnic. Over the majestic bridge, we found the Spirit of adventure, a lovely fishing boat waiting for us. We only went out to the wreck of HMS Port Napier really and drifted about. Eventually on the other side we started to get some bites. A few tiny pollock but a lot of mackerel. I caught five, Ben, Agu and M were a lot more successful and we all ended up covered in scales and beaming. I got one round the back of the head. The boys won M's wager between them for first fish and biggest fish and M lied a lot. Loaded with booty, we set off again with no real plan. Probably a mistake. We knew we had a long drive and thought we'd cut some hours off heading sadly away from the sea to enjoy the vastness of the glens, then diverted North a little to see Loch Ness and then find the campsite there full. A bit glum we headed South again but were delighted by the evening sun on the Ben and a fantastic site at Fort William. The boys found a friend to play with as we stoked up the fire and then we all enjoyed our catch. Needless to say, with a bit of butter, salt and parsley they were really good and we pleased our Glaswegian neighbours with four for their breakfast. Smoked as Kyle kippers, we collapsed after another epic day.