Starting the day, the Scottish way again with a nice big breakfast.
I love a big fry up, with all the bits, it’s so tasty, but I’ve noticed that big fry ups seem to put me in a bad mood. I was sulky and annoyed at everything getting ready to go this morning. Maybe it’s because I was so full, I’d have much rather just slept for a while than arse about getting bags packed, dogs in the van and driving 35 mins just to get back to the main road.
Then Daito was an absolute nob starting off the walk. Never mind he had me up again at 7am for a routine walk, where he didn’t poop. He was all over the show, pulling and straining to get to sheep. Then finally he pooped but he was still hyper as a child on Christmas chocs, even after unloading twice!
We tackled the 3.5km walk in from the van. No distance records but I fucking deserve a medal for how patient I was being with Daito. Climbing a short rocky hill to go around some houses (I’m sure the owners moved the sign so people didn’t use the perfectly good track in front of their house) I started to feel much happier. Aimi had wisely just been letting me stew but hopping across rocks and avoiding slipping over into the mud was fun. So by the time we got to the beach I was a much happier person.
The beach was near Sleat Point on a southern tip of Skye. Tucked into a cove surrounded by dark rocks and cliffs, this beach was small but had beautiful pristine sand that sloped down to the surprisingly blue sea. It was remote, idyllic and yet somehow, 2 people and a dog were already there! We both thought we would have the beach to ourselves on a wet and windy December morning. Apparently not.
But they didn’t hang around long which meant we could let Daito explore on the long lead. I kept him away from the dead seal that was washed up. Instead we tried again approaching the sea. He was still not sure about it, backing off rapidly everytime a wave rolled in.
Then as tradition would have it, I got naked and ran into the sea. It’s not a holiday if you don’t go in the sea!? Aimi decided to be helpful and hold my clothes while I ran around in my birthday suit. After a few sprints and plunges, it was time to get out, before I got wet. The rain was coming in and it was a race to get back into my dry-ish clothes.
This was lucky timing too because just as I managed to get my trousers on, a family group came over the hill down into the cove. I’m not sure if they saw me flapping in the wind. A perfunctory nod was all I got in response to my cheerful “hey!” as we passed.
The walk back was in full Scottish rain but Daito was tired now so he was much better behaved passing sheep and cows. At the van we got them toweled off as best we could and popped them in their bath robes. Kayto looks like Hugh Hefner in his maroon dressing gown. Or maybe a little sushi roll.
We had the fire on again this evening and watched Aimi’s dad’s favourite rugby film. It was about a team of players who crash landed in the Andes way up on the snowy peaks and what they did to survive the cold and hunger. Spoiler Alert. They ate eachother. We couldn’t work out the heating system in the house and coupled with the fire, we were sweating and opening windows. Aimi pointed out it was ironic complaining about being so hot, watching this film about people dieing of the cold.
