After walking ourselves to Fort William, covering some 140 kilometers over 5 days, I sat in the back seat of Ross’ little red car and relished the speed at which the landscape was passing by. We were heading north to Isle of Skye, to the ends of the earth.
Since it seemed that every bed north of Glasgow had been booked, we resigned ourselves to two more nights in our trusty little tent. Sligachan Campsite is nestled in the heart of the Cullin mountain range, stumbling distance from the Sligachan hotel where we enjoyed full Scottish breakfasts and a night of whirling around the dance floor at a Céilidh and sipping whisky in the back corners of the pub. During the day, we dragged our broken bodies up Old Man of Storr, and watched as a storm rolled through in the distance. The inlets to our left sparkled Carribean blue, and the ancient rock pinnacles rose to the right like a scene from Middle Earth.
Skye is a special place. I am thankful to have had the chance to experience it’s magic, with equally special people. <3
All photos taken with an iPhone 5.