Just Marge and one small van remained on Raasay last night.
It felt very isolated, even though the ferry to return us to Skye was
berthed in the nearby harbour. An orange glow emitted from the lamps that lit
nearby Raasay house penetrating the darkness.
This morning everything changed with the weather. Rain, rain, rain was today's forecast. Oh joy. We'd been spoiled these last couple of weeks. At 10 am the ferry slid into the Sound of Raasay. The Cuillin hills so clearly visible yesterday, sagged under a blanket of low cloud. We had no onward plan. We tried to catch a ferry over to Mallaig, to no avail. First availability tomorrow lunchtime. On the plus side wild garlic grew in abundance nearby, so John filled a bag to satisfy his love of it. So after stopping to buy some fruit, from a small supermarket virtually stripped bare by van shoppers, we drove to Kyleleakin where we made a loose onward plan over lunch.
Sorry Marge, today's driving will be mostly uphill. Remember the top of one is then a race down to climb the next one. The rain fell lightly, so we were still able to see the view and of course the striking Eileen Donan castle where pink blossoms foamed on cherry trees, brightening the grey day.
We decided to stop alongside Loch Garry, about fifteen miles from Fort William. This'll do Marge. The rain eased a little and we walked along the shore of the loch, our boots slipping on the wet stones. Silvery speckled leaves of lungwort clung to the trees alongside pale green lichen as light as candy floss.
Our walk took us to a tiny cemetery set amongst the trees, which of course we entered to read the gravestones, as we always do for some reason. The sign on the gate, ''visitors welcome'. Not just yet thanks!
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