I worked late, or was supposed to.
I waited up til 2am for him to arrive in the Land of Jock.
Early doors the next day we fill my motor full of enough camping kit to open Strathavens very own branch of Millets.
So me, the pirate, the two weans and a pal head north.
Our planned destination?
Sunny Skye.
Wtf? For a weekend that's too far.
That's what you think.
We have a wee stop off to make and it gives the weans their first taste of trotting on the WHW. My son, the big lanky dreip reckons he and his mate are gona 'do' it next year, ha ha we'll see.
Phase one of our secret mission is complete and we continue our journey. I opt to drive, not least as an act of kindness to the pirate for driving 400 miles through the night, but come on all those bodies squeezed into a sardine can Corsa.... I had the best seat in the house.
We finally arrive at our chosen camp site, only after 'sandal-gate' and pitch our tents.
Heaven on Earth.
It truly was. Almost midnight, the sun not quite set against the backdrop of Lewis and Harris. Camped in a large flat meadow. A wide sheltered bay to the left, a ruined castle perched precariously close to the edge of the cliff to our right. I felt lucky to be there. A spot I had often heard about over the past couple of years. And finally seeing it with my own eyes.
The sound of the children laughing hysterically as they raced each other in their sleeping bags, filled me with such a feeling of happiness. At 16 years old it's not cool to play with your sister, let alone enjoy spending time with your olds.
The Quirainge. Or Kerrang if you're 16. Spectacular. I ain't one for heights. Not so much the hight. It's the drop that bothers me. So the girls and I wimp out 2/3rds of the way up leaving the lanky driep to chase the pirates tail. They eventually return, the pirate with that tell tale sparkle in the eye that says my knees are hurting but I just HAD to run. The boy? The one that does hee haw exercise? Hardly broke sweat. Swine.
Next, The Old Man of Storr. WOW. It's amazing what a little bit of work will reward you with. Quite stunning. And a wee extra reward. A run back down the hill. Just for the record I most definitely had the wrong bra on that day. I had to tie my fleece round my boobs to stop them jiggling about.
Children (?) are rewarded with a visit to the pub and a perfect day comes to an end.
All too soon it's Sunday and it's time to pack up and head home. Much to the disappointment to all.
One last walk over some serious moorland leads us to the gob smackingly beautiful cliff top at the Lookout. Possibly the best kept bothy in Scotland. We were not lucky enough to spot any minky or killer whales but my son has found his new favourite place in the world.
Phase 2 of the secret mission is completed on the way home and it is with heavy hearts we arrive back in Strathaven. Tired but touched the weekend we shared.
Was it too far for a weekend?
Never.
I didn't work too late that Thursday. My Dad called me at work to tell my my friend had passed away not half an hour earlier. A young man in his prime with everything to live for. Gone at 33.
Don't listen to those who say it's too far, it's too much. If it's worth doing, do it now. You might not always have the chance.
5 comments:
I've never been to Skye. I feel inspired now.
Debs x
Never ever too far! Great time had by all, excellent! x
It's never too far ".....we might lose or we might win, but we'll never be here again..." (recognise that and you're admitting to a knowledge of 40 year old music...)
Skye is a special place, I have to go at least once a year even for a weekend, it's never too far.
I'm driving from Cork to Italy with 3 kids and a wife on Sunday. I'll remember this blog post for the whole journey and fill them with ghost stories from the subversive runner to pass the time.
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