Skye: Looking Back

I don't quite know what to think. Did I have any deep, soul-shaking revelations? No, not really. But that by no means implies that this was a wasted trip. I wasn't going out to find myself, I realize, because I'm happy with who I am. So much of this has to do with my upbringing and my friends, but there it is. I'm not saying I know myself entirely (concepts of identity are too fluid and ambiguous to merit too much thought, in my mind), but I'm fine with that. the little unknown aspects of ourselves keep life exciting. If life really is just a never-ending quest for self-discovery, why would I a) try to accomplish that all in one week, and b) remove all purpose from the rest of my life? But I digress.

When it comes down to it, I guess the point of this trip was to do something I'd never done before while the opportunity presented itself. I always like to fancy myself somewhat of an outdoorsman, regardless of the validity of that claim, because I always enjoyed my camping trips with the Boy Scouts. And while I may have drifted towards civilization a bit more than we did back then (I don't recall pots of tea and free homemade cakes at summer camp), I realize two things. The first, more of a recollection, is that I originally wanted to discover the heart and soul of the English, not just the Londoners. The second is a realization of what this trip did for me personally--it gave me a length of time when I would be beholden to no one but myself. I often take the troubles of others onto my own shoulders, taking it upon myself to fix whatever is wrong. I don't know if this is a way of running away from whatever problems I may have, but that's not relevant here. It was very refreshing to not worry or weight the consequences of my actions on others. So what if I wanted to jump a day ahead of schedule? So what if I wore the same clothes for 3 days (although to be fair, all my other clothes were wet)? So what if I consumed nothing but cakes and tea from Dunvegan on? It has literally zero effect on anyone other than myself, and that sense of freedom was very liberating and reassuring. It didn't hurt that the island isn't very populated, so most of the time I had it all to myself, and the few people I had repeat interactions with were nothing but huge balls of warmth and sunshine, even in the cold, damp, highland weather.

So I guess if I learned one thing from this whole shebang, it would be that it's okay to take some time (or dessert) for myself. Whether I apply this lesson has yet to be seen.

Would I change anything? Probably some of the logistics, but this was my first time solo travelling so I can forgive myself.

Am I glad I went? Absolutely. These are the kind of experiences one reads about but never dreams of actually doing. That's another thing I learned--all these impossible experiences? They're just an ounce or two of motivation (and a healthy dose of "Why not?" without paying too much attention to the answers) away.

Would I do it again? In a heartbeat. Although this time I might take the bus.



Nah.

A map of my whole trip. Outlined in black is the route I took.

TIME SPENT: 10:40 on 1/3/2014 to 14:00 on 8/3/2014; 171 hours, 20 minutes
SIGHTS SEEN: 7
TOWNS TRAVELED THROUGH: 33
MILES WALKED: 76.7
STEPS TAKEN: ~202,488

Skye, Day 7: I Leave

Today was a day of mixed blessings. I awoke to no rain and felt good. I packed up, intending to catch the 9:45 bus to Portree and explore that town a little bit. As I finished striking camp it started to hail a little bit. I thought it was a little funny and started making weather puns to myself on my way to the bus stop (hail yes, I did). Once I got there, I waited but the bus didn't show up. I checked the timetable again and saw that the bus was Tuesday only. In my defense, the timetable was poorly organized, clearly incomplete, and who the hail makes a bus run only on Tuesday? (I'm not ashamed. Let your hate rain down--it won't cloud my pride) With the help of the post office, I found out when the next bus was. I waited, saw it, and and saw that it had Linmore, not Portree, on the front as it drove past. The hail was stronger now and was accompanied by buffeting winds. I went back down to the post office to find out then the next bus to Portree was, and they said the bus would return on its way there, and soon. I booked it back to the bus station, no small feat in gale-force winds, hail, and with 30 extra pounds of equipment, and caught the bus just as it pulled into the station. Phew. I boarded and was on my way.

Portree is a pretty small town, but bigger by far than the other ones I'd gone through. Some nice views of the harbor, a cool  little tower, and... well, that was about it. So I ended up going to a local bakery (where I got a piece of cake for 66p!) and hat two pots of Earl Grey at a local cafe. It was a nice rest as I waited for the bus to Kyle of Lochalsh. Then the bus came and now I am no longer on the Isle of Skye. Tomorrow I'll be going back to my real life with... other people... I'll refrain from final thoughts for now. Until I'm back in London, my trip isn't really over.

Side note: I hailed about seven separate times today. How weird is that?

                                           THINGS I LEARNED

• Don't try to predict the weather on Skye. It's always gonna be a Hail Mary. There's snow chance you'll get it right. Rain in your eagerness--there's a sleet chance at best that you'll be correct.
• Although after a week of walking you may end up a 30-minute bus ride from where you started, some things really are all about the journey.
• Skye is beautiful at sunset.
• I could live quite happily off of Earl Grey tea and scones.

The wind was too forceful and cold for me to finish this sketch.

Instead, this cup of tea.

Skye, Day 6: Staying Put

Today was a good day. Not quite as magical as Day 3, but thoroughly pleasant. When I woke up this morning, the rain has stopped. It was still cloudy and overcast, but it was no longer raining. I rolled out of my sleeping back ("rolled" being a colloquial term--the actual action would be better described as "twisted") by 9:30, and wondered down to Skye's Oldest Bakery for a nice pot of tea before starting my day.

I intended to walk to Neist Point, which is apparently one of the better sights on Skye. Dunvegan Castle didn't open for another month, so I decided to give it a shot. So I started walking and reached my destination in an hour and a half. Gotta say, it was really nice to be free of my backpack. I had a ham and cheese cold roll and some Bombay mix, appreciated the view (I couldn't find the lighthouse so I just sat on a bluff), and relaxed for a bit. It started sprinkling a bit towards the end of my walk back, but nothing like the day before. Just a light sprinkle.

When I returned to the Oldest Bakery, the owner (Janice) was incredibly confused. How could I get to Neist Point and back in 3 hours? How could I miss the lighthouse? Turns out I had not gotten to Neist Point (which was significantly farther away, another 10 miles or so), where the lighthouse is very clearly marked, but had instead gone to Uiginish Point, which was not as far or impressive. But I'd had a good walk and a good lunch, so I was happy.

I decided to catch up on some homework. I ran back to camp to grab my autobiography materials for Acting, and returned to work for the 40-ish minutes until they closed. Janice and her husband were having a row, which is unfortunate. They both seem like lovely people. I finished another page before 3:00 (closing time), and ordered a couple snowballs to go. She didn't charge me for them or the doughnut I'd eaten earlier. Like I said, sweet lady. If/when I come back to Skye, I'm going to that place again and again. I'm getting on the 9:45 bus to Portree tomorrow (a change of plan, but I haven't seen Portree yet), so I won't be able to visit before I leave. It was good while it lasted, and those snowballs will be delicious.

From there I went to Jann's Cakes (stopping on the way to dry the pages of my autobiography, which were wet from yesterday, ad the hand drier in a public restroom--worked quite well), where I had a pot of Earl Grey with milk and two sugars and continued to work. Seven Brazilians came in and got food, then left. then Bush came in and asked "How much is a Brazilian?" (This didn't actually happen) I had a toasted ham and cheese for dinner, topping off with a big piece of Belgian chocolate tart with caramel and pecans, warmed and served with whipped cream. A bit pricey, but divine. And I reached the minimum page count for my autobiography, which feels great. It's been a lazy day, full of eating and tea, but an undeniably good one.

                                           THINGS I LEARNED

• It's really nice to not have to find somewhere new to sleep every night.
• Local bakeries are awesome.
• If you don't end up where you intended, you can still appreciate where you are.
• It's okay to indulge yourself now and again.

Skye, Day 5: Ew

There is a word for days like today. Several, actually. Among them are 'cold,' 'damp,' 'windy.' I broke camp and started walking by 9. It started raining shortly thereafter and was quickly accompanied by gale-force winds. Not really ideal walking weather. Neither have stopped, show no signs of stopping, and I'm a little bummed out. It would be different if I had space to set all my wet things (so all of them) away from my dry things (in an ideal world, myself), but my tent is too small to do that. The rain won't even let up for a couple minutes so I can organize without letting the drizzle in, so everything has become a damp lump. Kinda how I'm feeling right now.

The walk started out by making me feel stoic for braving the driving rain, numbing cold, and buffeting winds, but by hour 3 or 4 it was just plain miserable. It seems my luck with the weather had run out. Not much to say other than that, really.

I had the good fortune to have someone offer me a lift for the last couple of miles, which improved my spirits. I found a bakery (the oldest in Skye!) ad sat down for a cup of hot chocolate and a bacon roll, nice and hot. I ended up staying there for a couple hours and they let me dry my stuff by the radiator. I had another hot chocolate and a snowball, and when I left she not only rung me up for less than I owed but also sent me on my way with a couple muffins. Sweet lady. I'll be going back tomorrow (and Friday, if I stay that long).

I'm tempted to take the bus to Portree tomorrow and explore there on Friday, but I want to have a day where I don't pack up and move. I'll decide tomorrow. But for now, good night. I hope it stops raining.

                                           THINGS I LEARNED

• Singing loudly is a good way to keep yourself going.
• Wind is your enemy.
• Everything sucks when everything's damp.
• If it says 'waterproof,' it probably isn't counting on hours of continual assault.
• The kindness of strangers is a wonderful thing.

The weather today

Skye, Day 4: Getting Ahead of Myself

I am now a full day ahead of schedule. Not that it matters, since there's no one keeping track but me, but it feels nice. I made it all the way to Skeabost today, so tomorrow I may very well find myself in Dunvegan a day early.

This morning was nothing remarkable. I walked, saw an Iron Age dairy storage facility, and that's about it until I reached Uig. Uig Bay is beautiful. That's all there is to say about it. As I was walking down the hillside I heard a car honking. I turn around and it's Maureen and Brian from the day before! I marveled at the improbability as I caught a lift down the hill, where we parted ways one final time. I restocked by the pier, caught some lunch (first at a place called The Sheiling, which ended up only serving tea and cakes--but I had a fantastic fruit scone and Earl Grey in my full backpacking getup--and then at a pierside restaurant where I got some great soup and a baguette) before heading out.

I dropped my backpack at a bus stop for a short jaunt down a road to see the Faerie Glen, which completely deserves the name. Conical hills, so much green, it all seemed fabricated as part of a movie set. Stunning.

From there I set out on the long walk to Skeabost. I got rained on for the first time today, but powered through it and it passed. However, my knee had been hurting since Uig and towards the end of my journey my ankle started to hurt as well. Was it the extra supplies? Is it cumulative strain? I don't know, but I'm glad I have an extra day to get to Dunvegan, so I can take it at a safe pace.

                                           THINGS I LEARNED

• Friends can be made in 15 minutes.
• Tea is lovely, even if you're incredibly out of place while drinking it.
• Ankle support is awesome.
• If you can see it, it'll take longer than you think to get there. If you can't see it, you'll be there before you know it.
• My tent is tiny.

Skye, Day 3: Got My Groove Going

Today was the day I was waiting for. First thing I did was get some food as soon as the convenience store opened. Then I hiked the Quiraing, a collection of imposing rock figures, absolutely stunning. I hiked over to the Prison, a jagged mishmash of stone spikes at the foot of the bluffs, before going back and having lunch on top of one of the cliffs overlooking Staffin. It was very very nice, not in the least because I had actual food to eat instead of granola bars.

After lunch, I resolved to get to Duntulm, the next stop on my journey, a day early. I had realized last night that I had planned for tomorrow to be a 20-mile trek to Uig, on the other side of the island. I said no thanks to that and set off by 1:30. This time I walked out of the mountains and into more rolling hills. A very pretty walk, if not as impressive as the day before. I reached Duntulm in good time and looked at the ruins of the castle overlooking the sea. As I contemplated my journey I was joined by a middle-aged Scottish couple, Maureen and Brian, who offered me tea and a sandwich. I couldn't say no. They were very nice folk, we talked for a bit, and as we parted ways they offered me a banana! Fresh fruit! I took it, of course, and never let anyone tell you that the Scottish aren't the nicest of folk. They are.

I hike for a couple hours more along a beautiful seaside before two things happened. 1) I found a forest to camp in, and 2) The sun started to set. I hastily made camp and ran to eat my beans & weenies, a Cadbury egg, and Maureen and Brian's banana as I watched the sunset over the ocean. Picturesque.

                                           THINGS I LEARNED

• Appreciate the little things, like the wonderful demeanor of the woman at the store.
• Appreciate the big things too, like the awesome beauty of nature.
• If you have the chance to get ahead, do it.
• If you have the chance to rest your feet, take it.
• Never turn down a hot drink.
• Nothing beats eating dinner as the sun sets.

The ruins of Duntulm Castle

Skye, Day 2: Digging In

It is currently 6:20. I am in my tent finishing off my bag of peanuts and raisins, and I am glad to be right where I am, ready for bed before dinnertime. Today has been a day.

I'll start by finishing yesterday's entry, because it didn't tell the whole story. From Kyle of Lochalsh I caught a bus to Portree, on the Isle of Skye. As soon as I boarded and crossed onto the Isle, God decided to take a gigantic leak all over the immediate area. It wasn't a forceful leak, but it was substantial, constant, and lasted the entire bus ride. Turns out my plan to wing it when I got to Portree was rather ill-advised. Should I find some trees outside the city and camp? Should I stay in town and try to find the hostel we passed? I split the difference and camped in some trees beside a park, hoping I wouldn't get arrested.

I did not, and awoke today feeling pretty great. I popped out of my tent at 8, struck camp, and was on the road to Staffin by 8:30. I was struck by the rugged beauty surrounding me (seriously, it's stunning) and marched along, eye on the prize--Storr, one of the highest mountains in northern Skye. I wanted to climb that sucker, so I hopped a fence into an open field to change my angle of approach, preparing for my ascent--and instantly regretted it. Turns out Scottish ground can hold a lot of water, and I was stopped as the ground under my feet sunk and I found myself standing in a puddle up to my ankles. Well aware of the dangers  of walking long distances with wet feet, I turned around. A few kilometres later I found the footpath leading up to the foot of the Storr's cliffs, and I started to climb. However, I was carrying a lot of gear (20 or 30 pounds), the climb was steep, and I wasn't sure how much longer I had to Staffin. So about 2/3 of the way up I left the trail and set out cross-country to meet the road again. This turned out rather better than my last attempt, and I had a great time trekking across the moors. The road was fairly uneventful until Staffin, the town (actually a collection of 6 or 7 towns) where, again, I figured I would get some food and wing it. Unfortunately, every place I passed was closed on Sundays, and every copse was in the middle of a sheep pasture. i spent a couple hours hiking a couple miles along the road and then pacing a smaller bit trying to make up my mind. There was some panic and some fear that I had doomed myself to a week of hell, but in the end I just decided and it's fine. So after a good 10 hours on my feet, I ready to call it quits... until tomorrow.

                                           THINGS I LEARNED

• Waterproof is wonderful.
• The side of the road is a perfectly acceptable place to camp.
• Sometimes the important thing is to just make a decision.