Storyline: A Glimpse of Scotland
Skye is overcrowded, overpriced and overrated! Alex does not think it’s overrated, but I do. I evaluated it by the value we’ve got for the money spent, which roughly, was 6% of our travel budget for 2% of our travel time this year.
We knew we were buying a lottery ticket for the Isle of Skye while planning our trip. The weather there could vary from very bad to worse. The chances that we’d have some sunny moments in September were not high. Yet I managed to find accommodation through Airbnb that fit our modest budget and comfort requirements. This made our “Scotland by rails” itinerary doable.
I could not believe my eyes. The roads were busier than our busy highways. Hwy 401 around Toronto anyone? Many are single track roads, where one car pulls into specially designed pullouts to let oncoming traffic pass.
It was dry for a few moments while we got off the ferry at Armadale. The car rental company had several cars waiting, one of which was ours. After the formalities, Alex delivered me safely to our accommodation (one hour later for a 30-minute trip), still half asleep from the Gravol I took earlier.
It turned out to be a lovely cottage overlooking the water with the town of Broadford across the bay.
Accommodation location and price superior: check. Actually, it was the cheapest of all our accommodations in Scotland. It’s a bit rustic and cold, but we were on Skye after all. I would eventually move the two little space heaters that were barely warm into the living room on the second day, when I was just watching the water and the constant squalls with blustery winds from the cool and dry indoors.
There was no sun at all in the forecast for our first day on Skye, so we decided to visit Talisker – a single malt whisky distillery, for those unfamiliar with the world of scotch. We drove through winding, windy narrow roads, squalls and dry alternating every few minutes.
Then onto tiny singletrack roads, constantly pulling off into the passing places. By trial and error (Google tried and the driver erred – just a few times), we eventually reached the distillery. It was like trying to find a parking spot before a football game. I personally did not like the smell of the distillery spreading for miles around.
What a disappointment it was when we found out that there were no available spots for tours, and that one has to book weeks in advance. And the price was a bit steep at £10 each, given our Canadian dollar exchange rate at the time. They were selling tasting samples instead, starting from £5 and up. Really? The price of the bottles? Wow! One can buy the same Talisker at home cheaper (and we thought that the LCBO – the Government’s monopoly Liquor Control Board of Ontario – was making everything so much more expensive). Thanks for nothing Talisker! At least Alex got some more exercise driving on the wrong side of the road and ducking frequently off the singletrack roads.
The weather, though, was no surprise. Cold, windy and wet it was. I used the tiny heaters in the cottage to dry our clothes in the evenings.
By that time my bones were damning my itinerary. I did not see the point for more of this the next day. After all I had a lovely view of the water from our picture window, hens and dogs running in the yard, and rainbows every few minutes after the inevitable squalls, with winds of up to 100 mph or so.
So, Alex went exploring without me that day. Being born in a similarly shitty climate, he apparently enjoyed it. (I certainly did! Couldn’t wipe the grin off my face. It was so starkly beautiful…in the few moments that the skies cleared. And driving was so much easier without a motion sick passenger. Traffic was still busy though, and parking at The Old Man of Storr viewpoint was a mess, with cars littered along both shoulders of the road well beyond the limited-space layby that’s intended to do the job – Alex).
Instead, I cocooned myself between the two heaters, having all my layers and coats on, and enjoyed the view with few cups of coffee and local shortbread cookies. As far as I remember, a few posts were written that day. Alex adds I may as well have been at home watching a Skye video on TV, but he doesn’t understand my high intolerance for TV [oh yes, I do!].
Watching the waters from “my window” is something like his walking in the rain and high winds.
It is undeniably pretty, if only it was a desolate place as I am sure it once was. But there is darkness and sadness in Skye’s beauty. As with every scene with hills and moody skies it makes a perfect photographer’s place. It is bleakly pretty as Alex put it correctly.
(All photos from Breakish were taken either from our picture window or just in front of the cottage. )
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