It was, quite reasonably, Alice's turn to decide where we went for our summer holiday this year. Several months ago she decided on the Isle of Skye. I'd heard of it, of course, but I actually had to look on the map to see where it was! It's one of that mysterious bunch of small islands off the west coast of Scotland.
We flew from Heathrow to Inverness, on a very small aircraft, with one line of seats on the left, and two on the right, an experience new to both of us, but apparently familiar to the 24 dishevelled young ladies flying on the same aircraft.
On arrival at Inverness, we collected our hire car from Avis, and headed from the airport which is just to the east of Inverness, through the town, and headed on the road towards Loch Ness. After driving for two hours we arrived at Kyle of Lochalsh, where the Skye Bridge took us over to the Isle of Skye. After another 20 minutes we arrived at Broadford. From here it was just another two miles to the Bed & Breakfast which was to be our home for the first week.
Alan and Barbara made us very welcome for our entire stay. I was especially spoilt, by being able to have smoked haddock for breakfast on several occasions. This smoked haddock was nothing like the brightly (dis)coloured yellow stuff we see in the supermarkets. Having arrived after dark on a Saturday, it was a wonderful sight to see mist-enshrouded mountains from our breakfast table.
From this base we explored the entire south of the island, before heading further north to Staffin for our second week, where we stayed with Rob and Marie. The north of the island is much more rugged than the south, although not quite as rugged as the central stretch, dominated by the Cuillin mountain range. From our breakfast room in Staffin we looked out over Staffin Bay.
I'll be adding much more detail of our holiday in due course.