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Last full day in Scotland of our little holibobs and we are taking an easy stroll around a little loch. It’s still 6km, but relatively flat. 

This morning Daito discovered pheasants outside the kitchen window, just in front of a field full of ponies. It’s like a TV cooking show for dogs.

It seems to be that out on Skye, the weather is best in the mornings. And as much as we wanted to stay in this beautiful cabin to watch the sun rise over the mountains (we have already wondered about coming back here in summer on the motorbikes) it was time to go. So last night, after failing to get some car light trail photos, we packed up the majority of our stuff so we could be up and out early. 

Today the wind sang thru the trees surrounding the cabin, whistling around the sharp modern corners and bumping into the panes of glass. The trees shook their limbs angrily at the clouds spraying them relentlessly with tiny shards of ice and freezing water. 

Watching the frantic weather from within the cabin, we sat and stared out the huge windows. Only visible from the distorting dribbles of rain coursing down the surface, the glass separated us from the cold and wet. Yet, allowed us to be surrounded. I think the enjoyment of watching such a show comes from a mix of awe and smug defiance.

Up this tiny single track road, with passing places we wriggled up into the hills again. And as we did, the weather started to turn. It had been so good this morning, we actually had a view for most of it. Driving along we kept stopping for photos, or to ask a pig if he was meant to be crossing the road on his own. 

You know when you look at some of the advertising photos those expensive, hipster, scruffy-posh brands put out. The people look like their having such a jolly good time but you think, “ahhh its so pretentious, so staged…” Well this is that rally where they are taken. And you know what…

What time is it? No… really? We are already at the circuit and we are arguably late. At 7 am! We had to queue to get in. We had to get a bus to get here. From a park and ride. At the other end of the A43. After an hour’s drive for picking up Cerb. After an hour and half drive from Stoke…. Yeah, I was up early. But not as early as it could have been. I did the drive from Stoke last night and stealth camped in the Birmingham suburbs. As you can tell from this blog entry, I survived un-stabbed.

A couple years ago, the tree that had been growing between the bricks of the wall behind my shed, decided to fall over. And as luck would have it, a branch punched its way through the roof of my shed. It was stormy and so, come the morning, I found a lot of stuff very wet. I had a portion of type 2 fun, patching it up as best I could in the remaining 4 days before going on holiday….