If there is a heaven on earth, I think I found it.
So, Saturday. My window showed a very distant Loch (Ness? Maybe) where small clouds rose up off the surface to hover in the air. Really ethereal looking. £2 breakfast included crispies and bread. Then on the bus amid the pouring rain to the Isle of Skye. The river shaped like Scotland. We headed west from Loch Ness through the mountainous regions of the Highlands and truthfully, I could not take a single picture to do justice to the steep snow-capped mountains, the tiny trails of cascading rocks and waterfalls, the dips and grooves and browns and greens. The road we drove on seemed too small for our vehicle, and almost when I thought we might get swallowed, the lands opened up to reveal a vast loch stretching into the distance, with Eilean Donan castle perched near the shore. We stopped and saw, then drove a little way out to see again from the iconic viewpoint. If there is a heaven on earth, I think I found it. On we drove to Skye. We went across the infamous Skye Bridge (for the ridiculous cost of its concreteness, and the stories about the ridiculous £50 fee to cross unless you were carrying livestock, so hundreds of people would nick a sheep from the fields, stick it in their backseat, cross for free, tie it up in the car park during work hours, then take it back home. What people will do to save money), and into Portree, the capital city that really seemed 10 times smaller than Cheshire (and probably was). There were many cute little trinket shops and bakeries. We stopped at MacKenzie’s for some cheap, delicious curry pies. The drive through Skye itself was not as impressive as it probably could have been in better weather. The thick fog had settled over the mountains and we could all but make out the lands ridden in folklore—the fairy mounds and giant’s hills. We got out for a quick look at one of the many waterfalls. But by then the rain was coming down harder so we hopped back into the bus and headed for Cuith-Raing. It was supposed to look like a cookie-cut copy out of Lord of the Rings, but the fog decided to show me otherwise. Down the tiny dirt road and on through the misty mountains (HA. I humour myself) to Kilt Rock. Where I videoed our tour guide Alan telling the incredible ABSOLUTE TRUE story of Kilt Rock. A complimentary scene from the Isle of Skye. Isn’t his accent incredible?