Little Tin Houses
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JOURNAL

A Look at Skye
A Look at Skye

I feel like I’m one of those annoying people that does something new and then doesn’t stop talking about it. I keep dropping Skye into conversation at every opportunity, but I just honestly truly have never been anywhere like it. So here we go, it’s my journal and I’ll talk about it as much as I want. Here’s some of my favourite Skye talking points….

  1. The obvious one, Scenery. It’s just unlike anything I’ve seen before, especially in the UK. There’s some beautiful parts of Scotland, but even they seem to pale in comparison. The mountains, the coral beaches, the black beaches, the cliffs. Every inch is photogenic.

  2. The houses. Every house has character. There’ll be one quaint little cottage, with a derelict ramshackle cottage next door and a wooden modern eco house on the other side. There’s no rhyme nor reason to it and I love it. They also seem to have a thing for corrugated tin roofs and now I know I can’t live a happy life until I’ve lived in a tin house.

  3. The handmade signs. Every beach we visit has a handmade sign directing visitors in the right direction, like the locals have had so many tourists wander up their driveways accidentally that they’ve thought sod it, get some wood and a sharpie and we’ll set it right. I also like the protest ones spotted on the side of the road… a personal favourite is ‘NO FLODIGARRY FISH FARM’ which is great fun to say fast over and over again.

  4. They don’t make it easy for tourists and I totally get it. You have to work for your visit to any of the beaches or famous views that you’ve read about on Skye. Don’t be expecting to park up and look at a majestic black sand beach from your car. You’ll be parking on a muddy verge, following the farmer’s hand written signs on a 45 minute walk dodging sheep the whole way, but I love it. Why should they build car parks and tracks and fences? It would completely kill the rugged Skye vibe.

  5. The coffee shops. Special mention goes to Birch in Portree, Caora Dubh in Carbost and Deli Gasta in Broadford.

  6. How creatively inspired I’ve been because of my surroundings. Not only have I shot more film than I have in about a year, but I’ve also weaved so many bookmarks and coasters it’s insane. Along with Steven’s spoons, it’s kept our little Etsy shop fully stocked. I’ve also learnt how to hand spin wool, even scavenging sheep’s wool from rocks and grass, washing it, spinning it and using it on my loom. If 6 months ago you’d told me I’d be hand spinning wool on the Isle of Skye I would have laughed in your face and then quietly sobbed with excitement.

I’ll stop now and let the photographs do the talking, but it’s safe to say that I’m very happy we headed in this direction.

Amy Spires
Neist Point the Knee Wrecker

I’ll set the scene. We’re on the Isle of Skye. We’ve been here a couple of weeks, plodding around in the van, parking up in remote spots and getting on with our carving and weaving (perfect spot for a link to our etsy shop), when I realise that we haven’t actually seen many of the ‘attractions’ on the island. It’s a decent weather day, the dog is due a big walk, so I thought I’d be clever and plan a little morning walk to Neist Point Lighthouse.

I love a lighthouse. We actually got married in one. And a semi derelict one just doubly appeals to me. The landscape is stunning, and it tricks you into wanting to scale the path down to get closer to the cliffs and the buildings. So down we go. The problem is, the path is so steep at some points that I actually thought my knees might just bend backwards and I’d just have to slide down the rest of the way like some kind of seal.

Once you’re at the lighthouse you almost forget about the death path you’ve just taken to get down there, but then you have a good look around and fancy getting back to the van for a cup of coffee and you turn around and…shit. Usually I’m quite good at trooping through a big walk, but I honestly started planning on how I could get myself rescued from the bottom without causing too much of a stir. I had to strip off any unnecessary layers of clothing and hand them over to poor Steven along with my absolutely massive beast of a camera. Sometimes a husband just has to make sacrifices because it was either that or leave me down there to die.

Just to make it worse, a man over double our age was hiking up right past us without a care in the world, and even stopped at the top completely not out of breath at all and made a phonecall. I wouldn’t have even been able to shout for help at this point and he’s rang someone to have a chat. Totally shamed.

Amy Spires
Saying Goodbye
Saying Goodbye

We’ve packed up our house, all our belongings are in storage, if not sold, and we’ve handed the keys to the estate agent for completion next week. I had to take a few polaroids of our empty space to look back on when living in bricks and mortar is a distant memory. We’ve wasted absolutely no time in moving into the van and heading straight into bonny Scotland. Right now I’m sat with my new £9 ‘desk’ (basic TV folding table from Dunelm) and I’m more content than I ever was sitting at my £300 antique farmhouse desk with my massive iMac computer. It’s been raining on and off, but the sun has reared it’s cheeky head and is flooding through the van window directly in front of me. Pim’s all tuckered out and having a nap on his swivel seat bed, and Steven’s carving a spoon next to me. Shit, if I’d known this was where we’d be on our first day of full time van life then I would have stopped stressing about everything weeks ago.

Before we left, we popped out and stocked up on camera film. I’m so looking forward to being in new places all the time, having new things to photograph. I’m looking forward to having more spare time, learning new skills and making things. I’m looking forward to being free enough to take on any new opportunities that pop up, and not have to say no because I can’t get the time off work.

I loved our little house. Two years ago we were absolutely over the moon to be moving in and starting to work on it. I loved collecting all my vintage homeware and decorating it, but the novelty slowly wore off. There’s so many things I’ve sold recently which I thought I’d keep forever, moving from home to home, but I’ve not thought twice about since they’ve gone out the door.

I’ve just gone back and read a journal post I wrote in January, ‘Living Smaller’, where the doubts about our lifestyle were creeping up on me, and I’m feeling proud that we’ve done something about it. I’d like to go back and slap January Amy on the back and say ‘this year is going to be a shit show but crack on’ because right now all the stress is feeling very much worth it.

 

My new, significantly cheaper desk space

 
Amy Spires