Ardtoe

As forecast, the heavy rain came during the night, pummelling Marge and causing a disturbed nights sleep. This morning we discovered Marge had succumbed to once again being a leaky old thing, so we had to take care when packing up our bedding. Honestly Marge, we thought we’d got passed this problem. We hadn’t experienced rainfall like last night since before we went to the Isle of Skye. Obviously there was no rush to pack up and leave, so we took our time. There were public toilets just across the way from us, so we took the opportunity of using the tap next to the wash hand basin to fill our water containers and top Marge up with twelve litres. We are trying to keep the water tank only about half full because of the weight it incurs. The hills are pretty challenging around these parts, so the less weight the better. 

Yesterday evening we talked to a couple as they waited to board the ferry to the island of Mull. They had been away less than a week, travelled the north coast 500 and were on their way back home. We have met a lot of people whilst we’ve been away who have chosen Scotland as an alternative to Spain. Strange isn’t it, weather wise the two places couldn’t be so different. But everyone has vowed they will return to Scotland, having been entranced by its beauty, and the fact there is just so much to see. That will please Nicola Sturgeon. She made it clear that Scotland welcomed visitors. Any business associated with tourism were obviously very happy about this, operating to the strict guidlines regarding numbers, face coverings and hand sanitising. Sadly we have found that the ‘visitors’ and quite a few local people do not feel the need to adopt the rule of social distancing, and when we’re somewhere busy we spend all our time crossing to the other side of the road to avoid them. 

Midday we bit the bullet and set off wishing the rain would abait soon. The mountains had come alive since yesterday, waterfalls gushed, and torrents of water fell off them into rivers busy with the movement of water that flooded the gravelly ground. Our destination was the lighthouse at Ardnamurchan point, the most westerly point accessible by vehicle in the U.K. It was a long drive, taking us through some remote areas and along some very difficult narrow roads, pushing Marge a little too much sometimes.

Approaching the lighthouse we saw lamas in a field, as inquisitive about us as we were of them.

Then two highland cows, (or coo’s as they say up here). Their expression made us laugh, and we wondered what caption should be put with the photograph John took of them. By the time we’d reached the lighthouse, the rain had stopped and we were able to able to see across to the islands of Coll, Muck and Eigg. It will be nice to say we have visited this spot, but what a bleak and miserable place.

Our reward for the journey, hot drinks and cakes outside the cafe, for Marge a much needed rest, because what she didn’t know was, she’d be motoring for another hour and a half after leaving here. Retracing our steps over many miles of remote landscape, much of, which were remains of an ancient extinct volcano, four hundred million years old, we spotted stags up on the hills.

Their fine antlers easily visible in the fading light. It was just after five o’ clock and we commented on how the long days have all of a sudden grown shorter.

With much relief we arrived at  Ardtoe, a charming tiny bay with a white sandy beach and scattered rocks. As the sun went down the sky was striped with pink.  In the distance we could see the dark shapes of the Cuillin mountains on the Isle of Skye. We looked forward to seeing the view again in tomorrows sunshine.