Day 24: Skye

Firstly, and most importantly, we woke to this magnificent view.

Skye is such a try-hard.

After breakfast (my fiancé ordered kippers which he regretted - so many bones to pick out!), we set off for Claigan, determined to find the souterrain once and for all. The one lane road was quieter and mostly there were locals turning up to park, though there were some people in vans and caravans who had obviously ignored or misinterpreted the sign that said “O OVERNIGHT PARKING”. The N was absent.

Following the instruction of a map we had seen online, we followed a track past two gates, many properties, lots of sheep and thousands of pieces of shit! We found remnants of Neolithic activity - stones and lumps and bumps, etc. But the actual position of the souterrain - behind a fence!

Disheartened and uncertain about the unusual law in Scotland that allows you free reign on private property, we turned back. Later my research would conclude that it might have been feasible to continue but under the Scottish Outdoor Access Code you can’t damage things like fences and we could have done that trying to get over it. Still, my fiancé decided it as a win as we had actually found the souterrain, according to the Internet.

We dashed off to Dun Beag Broch. I consider brochs to be the stage between Neolithic stone houses and medieval castles. I managed to park in the wrong spot - but so did the family we ended up climbing up to the broch with.

It rose impressively on a hill, dominating all of us. The sheep didn’t seem so bothered. The climb wasn’t too bad, though the grass was studded with stones that were scatted as though they had spewed from the broch like ash from a volcano. Had they fallen over time or had they been smashed down?

Whoa.

We fought rough wind which made me feel like TV presenter Neil Oliver with my hair blowing all over my face while my fiancé tried to take a photo.

A sign claimed the broch had only been abandoned in the 18th century - that’s almost 2000 years of continual habitation! I noticed what appeared to be the ruins of a 19th century cottage nearby, made of bastardised stone.

I enjoyed this broch. It was slightly different in format to Carn Liath on the A9. We could climb small stairs and even walk around a passage (sadly the wall only came up to below our knees) between the double walls. There was a “guardhouse” as at Carn Liath but the entrance faced inside instead of to the side. Dun Beag Broch is an impressive structure, even in ruins with its carpet of grass.

Dun Beag Broch won't be winning any interior design awards.

This broch had a much more commanding view than at Dunvegan Castle - makes you wonder if Leod’s ancestors lived in this broch before upgrading, keeping it as an outpost! This is the best place for a broch.

I could live here.

We left the others there, pleased with this find at least. Back in Dunvegan, we ate at a cake shop. I enjoyed the jasmine tea but my liver protested over the triple chocolate muffin. Thank God I no longer have a gallbladder! We then ducked into a tiny cottage which was signposted as the Great Angus MacAskill Museum.

It held a life-sized replica of the man himself who was nearly 8 feet tall and performed great feats of strength. Angus MacAskill had emigrated to the US after the highland clearances and did well for himself. A distantly related clansman runs the museum. Apparently Angus was a true giant, not one afflicted by gigantism. Interesting but not sure it’s worth the 2 pound entry fee!

Our day was done. We relaxed the whole afternoon away before a nice dinner at the bistro. I had a surprisingly good chilli con carne. Back to the B&B for photo editing.

Now watching BBC iPlayer while writing this exact sentence.

Goodnight.

Day 23: Skye

We awoke with the alarm, then had a lovely breakfast (here I finally had a salty start to my day, care of Marmite). We sat by the window closest to the loch, admiring the view. The clouds were so low in front of the mountains that it looked as though they were moored there, invisible anchor lines thrown down into the loch. Our host, after feeding us, gave us advice and a map showing us how to find nearby walks. After days in the car, my feet were rearing to go.

We began the Two Churches Walk which started at an ruined chapel on an ancient religious site. I roamed the graves before my fiancé found a way out. He headed for the Duirinish stone; I followed. Squishy shoe-stealing ground (the beginnings of bogs, I suspect) prevented us from getting close. Not a huge loss - it was only erected in 2000. Sensibly, they placed a time capsule at the base so no one will be confused when collective memory fails.

We rejoined the muddy track that was littered with glossy black slugs, both alive and smushed. The track turned into dense, prickly vegetation before we were regurgitated on the side of the road near out destination.

The site of Dunvegan Castle has been lived on for 800 years. It is the seat of power for the MacLeods! We ambled through the gardens towards it. At first I denounced it as indefensible and 18th century in date, as the crappy bridge and entrance screamed “folly”. Hmm, but it was on a rock which would have been able to use the loch waters as a moat…

A nearby sign revealed that the bridge and entrance I despised had been added by some clan chief or another. The castle had once been accessible by boat only. The keep boasted a longer history. Intrigued, we stepped inside, cameras dutifully put away.

If it looks like a folly and quacks like a folly...it might not be!

The living areas had a distinctly 18th century flavour - they were also painted a hideous soft pink. While placards told us this or that room was medieval, they were dressed from a newer century. A pleasant sitting room was revealed by a guide to be a former Great Hall but was reduced by 10 feet so it would be more comfortable for a clan chief and his family. We were promised that the stonework was beneath the timbers under out feet. This was in the original medieval keep that replaced an earlier fort. The windows showed just how wide the walls actually were, built in the castle’s defensive past.

Then it began. You’d turn a corner and find a room so much more ancient in appearance than the one before it. The dungeon remained, a tiny pokey room with a floor cell. Creepy. We admired the Great MacLeod Sword, made in the 16th century, and we read the family tree - Leod was at the top, of course.

Outside in the back courtyard, we saw the seagate, originally the only entrance. The guide was pointing out to a group how the new additions and the old stonework were rendered so that it all matched. No wonder I had thought the whole thing was a folly!

Sinful chocolate was to be found in the gift shop. Omnom.

We walked back to the B&B and passed the post office which had five Royal Mail vans squeezed outside it. It must be a depot! We had lunch at the oldest bakery in Skye (150+ years old) where we both had burgers. I was not enthused until I received the tasty meal (but I put too much hot English mustard inside - my nose was unpleasantly jolted!). My fiancé was enthused, but only until he received a bun - with unmelted butter! How he hates that!

We drove to Claigan to walk to the coral beach. It was windy, but hot and cold by turns as we were walking a fair distance. Despite seeing evidence of Neolithic habitation (including a suspiciously burial mound-shaped thing we posed on for photos) I could not find the Claigan souterrain (a later Google search would reveal its location - may go back tomorrow).

A view worth questing for.

Claigan is beautiful and practically Atlantic. Crazy parking though - everyone just goes where they want, despite the marked areas. A douchey caravan parked in a passing place, so badly he overhung onto the… “road” is a generous word.

It was single lane traffic back to Dunvegan Castle - what a nightmare. Such a busy road. Good amount of passing places though.

I had headache so my fiancé got me takeaway dinner and snacks!

Day 22: Eilean Donan & Skye

The morning began with rain - and an amusing display downstairs in the breakfast room. Other guests at breakfast discussed marathons from the previous day and requested piles of food while talking about all the weight they were losing. Our grandmotherly host kept appearing to take orders of hot food from the guests, then would always finish with, “All good? Yes.”

She was a very pleasant woman who seemed keen to chat even as we were heading out the door. The rain eased as we hit the arterial road, though we found ourselves fighting terrible drivers who have apparently never learned to take the bends at reasonable speeds. They would speed up on straights so I could not overtake them easily. Annoying!!

We stopped briefly for a hot chocolate and a gander at the gorgeous scenery which was beginning to become a bit old hat - no wonder locals take it for granted!

After an hour or so, we finally reached Eilean Donan Castle which stood on an island (accessible by footbridge), defiant against the overcast sky. It was packed. I had to squeeze my car into overflowing overflow parking and copped a squat on the least muddy ground I could find. The longer walk to the castle was worth it - what a view!

The most photographed castle in the UK...gets another photo taken of it.

It would be hard to sneak across the bridge to the castle, though the bridge was a 20th century addition. As we walked over, we saw that the restored walls were smooth - so try to get on a boat and climb that! The 13th century version of the castle had been bigger - but over the centuries a smaller garrison shrunk it then it fell to ruin before becoming some dude’s home. The MacRae clan have their reunion here.

Have fun climbing those walls.

The more modern interior bits formed a fun maze but I enjoyed looking down at the old well more. The castle was filled with tiny passages and tiny stairs - perfect for a Jacobean stronghold. Not so much fun for crowds of tourists! Happy to escape across the bridge.

We crossed over into Skye. The scenery somehow became even more wonderful, rising over the water. We veered off towards the Clan Donald Skye Visitor Centre because we had time to burn before our 4pm check in over at Dunvegan.

There was a restaurant at the visitor centre which yielded local venison lasagne that just tasted like normal lasagne. I am becoming a huge fan of elderflower drinks. They are floral, but not overpoweringly so. We meandered up to the ticket office and noted that there was mention of castle ruins. The gardens offered pleasant strolls and if I lived near the centre, I’d walk there every day.

The castle looked suspiciously like a folly; it paled beside Inveraray. I guessed it to be 18th-19th century. I was right. This castle was 1790 onwards, laughably indefensible but times were changing then, stabilising. It fell to fire and ruin.

Pfft. You call that a castle?

We moved towards the museum, encountering a herb garden where I caught a whiff - no, a plume of fragrant thyme! We found the old laundry and explored those ruins before venturing on.

The museum talked about the ancient history of the isles, which featured Picts, Vikings and the prolific McDonalds. A newly constructed stone circle stood in the museum. That will confuse archaeologists one day!

Outside in the gardens a lone peacock lurked nervously. A sign at the entrance had angrily told people to keep their dogs on leashes as one peacock had perished and the remaining one was often harassed. Well, he posed for photos then chased us, sometimes at a fair clip, all the way back to the entrance. Buses full of tourists were turning up so it was time to leave.

Poor peacock :(

More slowpokes on the road. More GPS shenanigans (it took us down a single-lane road for no reason - this road had so many passing points and so much space either side they might as well make it two lanes!). We passed Dun Beag Broch - going too fast to stop, whoops - and finally made our way into Dunvegan.

Our B&B looked quaint, standing across the road from its parking. It had a telescope in the entrance. We were a few minutes early, but this was nothing to our long suffering hostess who’d had people turn up hours early or late, past her bedtime. We bonded over people being unable to read webpages and who were poor timekeepers.

We were shown to our room which had a lockable sliding door but this is in a corridor behind another door (this one was unlocked) that says “emergency exit and room 5”. It’s like having our own extra (if chillier) room. Half the ceiling slopes down but it gives the room a cosy feel. The small window lets us keep an eye on the car and the lovely loch. Damn those stairs are a killer with suitcases. The candles lining the hallways give a soothing effect. This is the perfect honeymoon spot.

Our hostess booked us into a restaurant which is hard to get into. We went there after I bought thistle and heather teas. So far I have tried thistle which is mixed into a black breakfast tea - an unusual taste. The restaurant was small, intimate, and the most romantic place I’ve eaten at. I enjoyed sitting beneath those fairy lights, tapping my toe to Scottish reels from the speakers (“no singing, no dancing, no swearing” a sign warned - oh well) and smiling over at the man I love, fielding his attempt at footsies and holding his hands.

We were offered homemade bread - cheesy wholemeal. My pheasant breast was divine. All in all, an awesome place.

Can’t wait to continue our relaxing time in Skye tomorrow, although apparently rain is dune.