Skye, part 5: Misty Isle trip to Loch Coruisk
Now that the weather in Madrid is playing nasty tricks by changing from spring to autumn and day to night in the time it takes to get from my flat to the street, I recall another day when the weather was equally changing and challenging.
Way too long ago, I left the story of my trip to Skye at Elgol, the tiny sea-side village where I spent 9 hours because I wanted to go on the Misty Isle trip to Loch Coruisk.
What about that trip, then?
What an amazing experience it was.
When I got on the little boat with the skipper, Seumas, his son Stuart, and about twelve other tourists the sun was shining. The morning had been bleak and misty but, ten minutes before boarding, the sun came out, the sea started to glitter and the clouds over the Cuillin Hills lifted. The weather seemed so good I was about to refuse the waterproof poncho the lady at the kiosk, Anne, gave me.
But, remember, I was in Scotland.
Ten minutes into the trip, it started raining.
‘Do you know what we do in Skye to know what the weather is like?’ Stuart said. ‘We stick our hand out in front of us. If we still see it, the weather is fine.’
The main attraction of the trip (apart from sailing to a beautiful lake), according to the Misty Isle website, was the possibility of seeing dolphins, seals and all kinds of sea birds. Unfortunately, it was almost the end of the season. Not to mention the weather.
We saw no dolphins (although a man was sure he had seen a fin not very far away, and we all spent a while looking for it - with no luck), but we managed to see common shags, deer and about 20 seals!!! We were told that, during the summer, we could have seen up to 200 seals. I was very excited with just 20 of them, so I can’t complain.
When we got to the other side, we walked to Loch Coruisk and were left to wander at our own will. At one point, I was alone. All I heard was the strong wind, blowing hard in my ears and trying to take my poncho (if not me) away. Being used to living in big cities, being completely alone in any place is something rare, but a feeling I experienced very often in Skye.
It was breathtaking.
On a lighter note, as I was following the track of a deer, I managed to put my foot in the deepest pool of mud I’ve ever seen so that water soaked into my shoe and mud caked my jeans. However, not a trace of it was left by the time I got back to Broadford.
It must have been the magic of Skye, cleaning body and soul and dirty clothes.
“Eilean Donan Castle and the Isle of Skye, Winter. Highland Scotland.” by photosecosse /barbara jones