I find myself putting off these last few posts. Partly because the vacation glow has almost entirely faded, and I’m fully back to what we know as “the grind”. But mostly, I think, because I feel completely, wholly, entirely, incapable of conveying to you the beauty and wonder of this place known as the Isle of Skye.
On the Way
Having driven the northern route days before, we took the southern route along Loch Ness toward the Isle of Skye. On the way we stumbled upon cafes nestled in the trees, little paths to the loch, waterfalls and this bridge which captivated us all:
In one small town, we were waved over to the shoulder by a police officer passing by in his car. When he came alongside the red dragon, he told us we had to wait for an oncoming extra-wide load to pass. “Extra-wide load” may have been an understatement. More like “super-massive-immense-ginormous-extra-wide-and-extremely-long” load. These babies mystified us for a day or two:
The looked like airplane wings without the flap, lights or anything mechanical at all. Then, a couple days later, while discussing alternative energy sources, I shouted, “Hey! I bet that’s what those big white things were! Windmill arms!!!” Because there’s LOTS of windmills on this windy island.
Not gonna lie. I was pretty proud of myself. #winning
Finally in Skye
Just before arriving in Portree, the capital of the Isle of Skye, we stopped at the Aros Visitor Center so Jean could ask some questions about the various sights in Skye. But funny thing…in Scotland, just about any place can call themselves a Visitor Center. Even if they have absolutely no information helpful to visitors at all, except perhaps to point them to the real visitor center, which is where we went after lunch. I had a pretty tasty grilled cheese (or “toastie” in Scot) and if I’d known that would be the best meal I would have for the next three days, I might have savored it a bit more.