Holiday day 6
hursday 28 October: Skye to Pitlochry 156 miles (3 hours 30)
Suggested song: The Only Thing - Sufjan Stevens
I think Skye has been a highlight of the trip. It isn’t because of the hotel, though it has been the most comfortable to date, with inviting communal areas, tolerable coffee, a single malt bar, beautiful views and a smartTV (oh the joy of being able to catch up with Only Connect at midnight!) and friendly staff.
It isn’t because of the two quite extraordinary dinners (chosen by the Michelin Guide) on two subsequent evenings which showed off just how much wonderful local produce there is, nor for the indie coffeeshop - all bleached out wood and serious-looking baristas.
It certainly wasn’t for the weather - the apocalyptic displays of rain on our first day now replaced with grey cloud and occasional sunshine. But the quite extraordinary scenery has certainly played a large part, as well as the people - from the bookseller who talked to us about women’s writing and audiences and the devastating effect the loss of American and Canadian tourists was having on local businesses, to the woman in the local handmade soap shop who told us how the local soap and the local candle producers were linked once, but are so no longer (clue - there were carnal relations involved), nor the owner of the restaurant who positively radiated with joy every time we told her how good her food was (and it was exceptional).
It’s maybe also because we’ve got into the rhythms and routines of being on holiday. Sure, there have been casualties; my Yiddish lessons have stalled for the first time in 4 months - (worry not, I’ll still be able to tell you that your babka is delicious next week), and the late nights following big dinners where we’ve both laboured to wrestle a couple of hundred words onto a page before bed have messed up my sleep cycle. But I’ve settled into holiday mode - sleeping in late, walking around without purpose, stopping to look at interesting things and taking a photo every five minutes. I’ve started to shout at politicians on the radio (the lack of stress up here means I need to make my own) and if this carries on I could even see myself watching the Sunday morning politics shows that normally have me reaching for the blood pressure pills.
Today we got to do one last long trip across Skye - from Portree across to the Skye bridge, taking a few stops to look at waterfalls, lochs and the most spectacular mountains in the mist. We’ll be back.
We find ourselves in Pitlochry now - a charming little town in the Cairngorms. We had a wander through the town this afternoon before an early dinner in a pub (after two days of fine dining sometimes a girl needs a pub dinner). We’re in a lovely suite (!) In a fancy B&B - where the owner welcomed us with some authentic Scottish hospitality - his dour greeting and dry humour a brilliant foil to the relentlessly sunny ladies in our Skye hotel.
The landscapes of the Cairngorms are different again to the Highlands and Skye - the roads are broader, the accents flatter and there’s the promise of a Dam and a salmon ladder in my future. Bring it on, I’m ready for new highlights.