Are we there yet?

Getting to the Isle of Skye from the Isle of Australia proves to be quite a challenge. It starts badly when the 544 bus that leaves from the end of our street zooms past us as we are walking down the hill (we weren’t late, so it must have been early). Plan B is a longer walk to catch the 545. The bus delivers us to Eastwood, the train to Central and then another the airport. The train is expensive, but cheaper than a taxi and beats the traffic every time. Our first flight transports us to another island, Singapore. After a short transit our Singapore Airlines A380 delivers us to Heathrow, a little after 5 am.

The next leg of our journey was always going to be complicated. Some people would fly to Edinburgh, but the flights were expensive so we opted for a train. Then the train idea fell over for various reasons, so our last resort is hiring a car from Heathrow and driving to the north west of Scotland, with a stopover in the Lake District.

Getting into a hire car after thirty hours of travelling is probably not a good idea. In spite of a generous upgrade to a sporty turbo, diesel Renault Captur, it’s amazing how fatigue turns a simple thing like trying to turn the radio off, into an almost insurmountable crisis. Getting the Sat-Nav to work, negotiating outer London traffic and dealing with indicators on the wrong side of the steering wheel adds to the challenge. Somehow, by the grace of God, we make it up through the north of England to Grasmere.

After a day of rest, another seven hours of driving is our next undertaking. Rain, fog and mist do not detract from the mystically rugged West Highlands scenery. Unexpectedly, the biggest dilemma whilst travelling across the middle of Scotland is finding something to eat. Making the most of the fading daylight means we press on and finally stop for a very late lunch/early dinner in Kyle of Lochalsh. It is total darkness at 4pm.

At Kyle of Lochalsh we are delighted to find Hector’s Bothy. The word bothy, we discover, means a ‘friendly house’. In times past, the bothy was a place of welcome rest for weary travellers. A place to shelter from the elements where food and refreshment was provided. With heavy rain and a chilly 3 degrees it certainly was a refuge for us, a place to enjoy a bowl of steaming lentil soup and a flapjack. Christmas lights in the window makes more sense when its dark by mid-afternoon.

After crossing the bridge to the Island and travelling another hour we passed Portree and arrived at our destination, near Edinbane.

Time now to meet our hosts, master the chooks, ducks, cat and heating system before the owners head south for their Christmas break.

Surely it can’t be too hard!