Day 117 Shieldaig to Kyleakin

 

 Date: Thursday 2^nd August 2012   Distance: 41.87 Miles

 

It had been a sticky night. We had breakfast in the main house with other visitors- German again. The venison sausages were lovely.

 

Our bike was stored in the outside games room along with items later to become part of a raft for the son to race on at Sheildag at the weekend followed by a sheep shed shuffle so named because it’s a dance in a sheep shed. They usually start at 10 pm and end around 5am. What stamina!

 

Ten miles on route we stopped for drinks at Kishorn seafood bar and the girl there said it was her dad’s sheep shed. There was a loch before Kishorn and it looked like the carnivorous plants have flowered here and butterflies decorated the marshy sides of the roads.

 

Riding to Loch Carron along the village front we met a man hanging his washing on lines on the beach. He warned us to take care on the roads that he deemed unsuitable for bikes because of the traffic.

 

Someone passing drew our attention to the shape of a man’s face formed by the top of the mountain. We saw this for a long way when we looked back. He also said the loch had many otters-a sign of clean water but then all the lochs have looked pure to me.

 

At the Strathecarron Hotel we met a couple from the seafood bar, seemingly ill matched by dress, age and type but enjoying the local ale. It still surprised me how often we saw some people across this part of the country but we do stick out like a sore thumb.

 

Bob had been all for putting me on the train here as I had such griping pains in my stomach- too much rich food probably. Carrot and coriander soup seemed to do the trick- that and a little rest.

 

We left for roads with extremely tall pines and as we walked yet another hill I could hear crunching sounds coming from the tree lined edge. This followed us for some way and as I walked I kept scanning the foliage for movement. I had heard a similar noise from hedgehogs eating snails in our garden. Certainly not noise from squirrels I wondered if it was pine martins.

 

 

 

 

Cars rushed by us more and more as we drew near the Skye Bridge. It was not how I remembered it nearly 15 years ago. Perhaps taking away the toll has made it busier. It was certainly bustling with tourists, many Italian, in Kyleakin.

 

The B and B was hard to find- only because instructions were to go right at the youth hostel. We learnt later the hostel had been replaced with a block of flats some years ago. If we had been looking for the name, unpronounceable, of the house, we would have found it as there were signs.

 

 

 

We were ten minutes later than I had said because discomfort had slowed me down. Arms akimbo we were greeted with “so you’re here then” which wasn’t the most welcoming thing to say. Her front garden was dotted with ornaments, gnomes, deer, fairies and the path was small and angular but Bob manoeuvred the bike carefully. She was cross that we wanted to put it out of sight and was very precious about her wall that was hotch-potched with cement. We had asked about the bike and she seemed fine with it on the phone. After being told off for being awkward when we chose a time for breakfast- the information sheets she gave us were different so we mentioned it-I was ready to find somewhere else. The room was nice however and whatever was bugging her had got better by morning. We decided she might have had some sort of OCD as she kept patting things and setting things straight. We were upsetting her equilibrium obviously. Her husband spoke to us after breakfast and he was lovely.

 

This was the worst place for midges so we daren’t open the window at night. We walked round the village and I thought there must have been lots of small fish in the water here because of the bubbles coming to the surface but when we looked there was no life at all just air seemingly coming from under the gravel at the bottom. We wondered if this was volcanic - surely not. We did see garden rubbish dumped in the water and widespread usage maybe could create methane. Dead jellyfish floated on top of the water further along. This was in complete contrast to Gairloch’s rich sea-life. Trolling the internet has not shed any light on the gas bubble phenomena, as yet.

 

We ate at Saucy Mary’s which doubled as a bunk house. Saucy Mary was reputed to be a Norwegian princess from the now ruined Castle Moil. She hung a chain from her castle in Kyleakin across the narrow channel to the mainland in order to extort tolls from the ships passing through.