The Last Days

As we find ourselves trapped back in the North East (it could be worse, no hate on the North East, it’s just there are places I’d rather be) I’ve been thinking a lot about our days on Skye. We left about a few weeks before Christmas, with the plan of spending a bit of time in the highlands and then coming back for the Christmas bubble and to get some vet’s appointments and other necessities out the way. As soon as we got back, our plan to head back to Scotland on the 27th of December was absolutely bollocked, and now we find ourselves waiting patiently for when the border opens and we can get back to somewhere that’s started to feel as much like home as the North East does.

Our last week or so on Skye was spent exploring some parts we’d never bothered with as they looked ‘boring’ in comparison to the epic scenery at the north of the island. We found boat wrecks in Kyleakin, and herds of wild goats and otters just over the bridge towards Kintail. Our park ups were completely silent, and our days spent creating and working on our shop. There’s a lot less distractions on Skye. Less shops, less people, just scenery and time. 

The beginning of last year was truly the worst of my entire life, but I can safely say the last few months of it were the best. Pottering about the coastline, surrounding ourselves with wilderness, eagle spotting, weaving and carving in our tiny home. We’ll be back as soon as we can Scotland. 

Oh, and by the way, incase you don’t follow along on our van instagram page, we sold our little white van and we now live in a 31 year old talbot express motorhome, and sometimes I look at it and just laugh at how much a rollercoaster 2020 has been. I love it.

The Mist

I received the scans back from two rolls of film, one of which has taken me so long to get through that the first photos on it were from months ago when we were still living in our VW crafter van. It reminded me that one of the best things about shooting film is flicking through all those moments you’ve documented and then forgotten about, because a roll of 35mm takes bloody forever to finish.

These are all from a day where it went from glorious sun, to spooky mist in a few hours. It rolled over the hills behind us and sent the dog west. He’d never seen thick mist like it and couldn’t stop barking at it, his tiny brain not comprehending why he could hear the sheep, smell the sheep, but not see the sheep. The weather on Skye is a complete drama queen, and this was one of our favourite tantrums of hers we witnessed. Our least favourite was the weekend we had to park in Portree main car park, tucked behind a water station building for 3 days straight to hide from 60mph winds.