Skye high

About three kilometres into the steep climb up to the Old Man of Storr I realised I should give up. Lyn had already parted from me and taken the easier path. She then rang to say enough is enough and that she was heading back down. Why was I pushing on? To pretend I'm not 68? To get the photos? Because I had just passed a semi-collapsed Englishman and was too proud to have him see me turn around? 

At least, I consoled myself, the views are to die for. Its just I didn't want to actually die for them. I didn't even want my knees to punish me tonight!

The thing is that, front on, the rock formations are indistinguishable from the cliff face. I just wanted to see them properly but the steps went on and on. It is, 3.8 kilometres out and 664 metres up. I reached the base and saw that a good 400 metres further ahead a group of whippet-fit youngsters were clustered atop a height looking down! My heart quailed. I turned around. 

On the way down I mentally judged the chances of those I passed. Germans with hiking poles. Ja. French couple with squabbling kids. Non. Oversized American with oversized camera. No chance. At the bottom Lyn suggested that, before we drove on, I should walk over to the bathroom at the end of the carpark. I persuaded her to drive me there!

A few spectacular kilometres later we visited Lealt Falls. From the Falls you walk out to the cliff edge and look back.

On we went through scattered little white painted villages and, of course, sheep. Next stop was Kilt Rock. We expected a kilt-patterned cliff face. It was all that, with a bonus waterfall. 

Lyn was driving and the road had turned into one of those one-lane abominations, where every approaching car presents a mathematical problem involving speed, width and travel insurance. We were winding through the wildly desolate northern tip of Skye, with the Quiraing range on our left and the Atlantic below, when, slightly askew, civilisation appeared.

Our next, thankfully short, walk was out to the ruins of Duntulm Castle. Much of the castle had long ago succumbed to assaults from time and weather. Lyn admired the work of the sheep who keep this island mown beautifully. 

Driving through the tiny village of Kilmaluag we passed a wooden house with a turf roof. Lyn exclaimed, "That's a Grand Designs house!" She was right, of course. Among her many areas of expertise is Grand Designs (The Larch Clad House, Season 12, Episode 7).

The town of Uig (oo-ig) looks stunning as you wind down the mountain but the descent it too hairy for photography. Once down, however, the road improved dramatically.

It was a quick run back to Portree where we both felt we deserved chicken soup and a nap.