Day 51: Over the sea to Skye via Plockton and Kyle of Lochalsh

Haven't had wifi signal, so these blogs have been delayed. Hope no-one thinks I’ve fallen off the edge into the sea. Went to Kyle of Lochalsh via Plockton this morning. There I could get a signal for the first time in three days so I messaged family members and told them about Gloria, and that I was fine and travelling onwards until she’s fixed, in a black Vauxhall Corsa.

I had missed seeing anything of Plockton the day my car broke down, and like Applecross, it had come up as ‘a must see must do’ so many times I felt that I needed to revisit. The weather wasn’t brilliant but I could see the charm of the place. Like lots of these west coast coastal villages, they are made up of just one main street with all the houses in a line facing a harbour or a beach.

This one is served by the Gulf Stream so has palm trees growing along the shore just like mine at home.

Because no-one has a back garden, nor a front garden, they have small private square plots on the other side of the road opposite their homes beside the beach. They were pretty. Some even had vegetables growing.

In Kyle I called into the garage to tell John that my engine management light had been on constantly for five and a half years and that he could ignore it. He told me he’d ordered my new clutch and Gloria should be good as new early Wednesday morning.

Whenever I thought about the Skye crossing I had imagined that it would have taken Flora MacDonald hours to row Bonnie prince Charlie to safety all those years ago. I was wrong. It was nothing like Dover to Calaise. It took exactly 2 minutes and 45 seconds on the bridge and if I am honest was a bit of an anticlimax.

The Skye bridge is a beautifully designed structure with a wonderful curve to it.

And unlike lots of bridges in England like Dartford for example, I have never yet had to pay to cross on a Scottish Bridge although this was not always the case. When it was built in, it was a toll bridge but was so unpopular that the locals used to say they had been mugged and got a receipt for it. They formed a protest group called S.K.A T. Skye Bridge against Tolls. Many residents refused to pay and some were heavily fined and others went to prison. The protesters eventually won and the tolls were scrapped in 2004. Then in 2008 all bridge tolls throughout Scotland were abandoned. Perhaps we should set up a similar protest group in Dartford.

The Skye Bridge links not only Skye to the Kyle of Lochalsh but also another island Eilean Ban, that was once the home of lighthouse keepers. Gavin Maxwell the poet and naturalist who wrote the best seller 'Ring Of Bright Water' made the island his home. Sadly he died of cancer in his fifties and his otter Teko died two weeks later. Just over the bridge in Kyleakin is The Bright Water Visitor Centre in his memory.

When I was deputy head of an infant school I remember a music advisor turning up and thinking that, as the children were infants, we would just about manage to sing ‘Pease Pudding Hot Pease Pudding Cold.’ Imagine his astonishment when my 6 and 7 years olds sang him ‘Ring of Bright Water’ the theme from the film in two part harmony. I had to visit the centre in delicious memory and glee of that occasion if nothing else.

There is a Scottish cookery writer I have always admired called Claire MacDonald. I have most of her books. She is the Jamie Oliver of Skye and I just missed seeing her performing as one of the celebrity chefs at The Taste of Grampian a few weeks ago. She is actually Lady Claire MacDonald, married to the Clan Chief Godfrey MacDonald. Their world famous little hotel is Kinloch Lodge and I just had to go and find it.

It’s now run by one of their daughters with has its own Michelin starred chef Marcello Tully, has a tiny helicopter landing pad, and has an award for being the most Romantic hotel in Scotland.

 

From there I went to the Clan Donald Centre which is one of the very few proper tourist attractions on the island. It has the ruins of the Clan castle, a museum and 40 acres of wonderful grounds with very mature trees.

Sadly I am no longer the only tourist in this part of Scotland at least. The car park had 7 international coaches in it including one emblazoned with Disney motifs.

The restaurant was closed for a private function, and there were six rather tacky marquees serving food to the coach parties while ghastly Jimmy Shand accordion music was piped over all. What a pity.

On the bright side the tour guide thought I was one of his party of French tourists (bien sur monsieur!) and waved me though without giving me a chance to pay for my ticket to get in!

By now it was raining quite hard so I left the French contingent and the marquees, where I was not going to get a cup of tea, and made my way to Armadale from where the ferry goes to the Scottish mainland. I had planned to leave Skye from here but now had to return to Kyle to collect Gloria.  

It is worth a stop here as The Shed, the cafe,  is not full of coach loads of tourists and there are some interesting shops to poke around in. Bit like at an airport. Somewhere to spend money you had no intention of spending whilst waiting for embarkation.

Ragamuffin is a pretty shop that sells the kind of clothes I love and designer knitwear.

Skyelark crafts sells a range of gifts and photo canvases. It is the home of Grumpy George (not at all grumpy when I met him) who offers photography and photo-shop tuition and takes pet portraits.

There is a Pottery and a whole food store.

Having been used to single track, often poorly maintained, roads for the last week and a half, Skye was a pleasant surprise as almost all the roads were two way and in very good condition.

I did a big circuit via Dunvegan and Dunvegan castle and began to worry about Harish and Clemencia. Skye was empty. It seemed to have just three towns at most and two of those, a straggle of houses, a craft outlet, and a cafe, did not deserve the title of town at all. What on earth was this cosmopolitan couple going to do here?

The castle was impressive but someone was already living in it.

There was a weird thatched little museum at Dunvegan called Giant Angus MacAskill Museum dedicated to the tallest Scot who has lived (so far.) It had closed so I never did get to see inside.

By now the Corsa and I had driven 100 miles around south and western Skye. Unsurprisingly the landscape is very similar to the rest of the Western Highlands. Lochs, mountains sheep and small usually very isolated white houses. Miles and miles of not much else. One cannot live on scenery. I don’t think I could live here.

Then I arrived at their home and saw their project.

My new friends live in an area called Treaslane after the river nearby.

They have wonderful views of Loch Treaslane in front of the house.

Recently it was a nursery and, although overgrown, the gardens still have beautiful plants and plenty of space for a studio for Clemencia to run art and craft workshops. The house is also in need of considerable renovation and Harish and his wife have the vision to turn it into both a comfortable a home and a commercial enterprise. Although they have been here just a couple of months, they have already met the friendly neighbours and have plans for the future. They have big ideas and plenty of time to realise them once they found a reliable builder.

Thankfully no fish and chips in this house either. Both are excellent and adventurous vegetarian cooks and I had a wonderful meal with them before snuggling down in one of the rooms they have already sorted.