I’ve skipped ahead in my story-telling to the third day we spent on Skye – the second was standard Highlands rainy, and we visited Dunvegan Castle before eventually retreating to our cottage for the afternoon. Thursday dawned clear and bright but increasingly windy as the day went on; the car was buffeted about and on one or two excursions it was difficult to walk. We think the gusts were well into hurricane-force, but even with whipping hair biting into my face like knives, I was so excited for our journey.
I had spent most of the afternoon before plotting out the route and places I knew we needed to stop, then entering it all into Google maps so I could know exactly where we were meant to go. There was a question as to whether we might go all the way to Portree and do a loop back, but in the end it was an out-and-back trip, allowing us the opportunity to stop at a few points we missed. Once again, I have chosen a few highlights for this page, but most of my pictures are in the video at the bottom.
First stop was Duntulm, less than ten minutes north of where we stayed – it is an almost entirely ruined castle on a promontory with gorgeous views back over the hills and coastline.
I was the only one who hopped out of the car on this first stop so I made it quick, eager to see what the rest of the day would hold.
The A855, which is the main road that runs along the north edge of Skye, runs through some breath-taking landscape. Even when one cannot see the ocean, one can enjoy the distant mountains and vistas across green fields dotted with heather, sheep, and outcroppings of rock. Several times I stopped just to enjoy that view, and also to calm my nerves as driver.
Because, while it is the main route along this coast, the A855 is also a single-track road with relatively frequent passing places, but equally frequent blind corners and hills that cause the occasional near-miss with other more confident or less cautious drivers. I would certainly not recommend the route for tourists unused to Highland driving, beauty notwithstanding.
As the road cuts across the top of Skye it leaves the coastline to re-join a few miles later, opening up views across the glistening water to small islands and the distant mainland. We stopped a few times, though as the wind grew stronger, Dad started to doubt whether he wanted to go on much of a hike – one of the plans for the day. Knowing that one of our party would be confined to the car either way meant that cancelling a longer hike made good sense.
One location we knew we could not miss was the Quiraing, and so we turned inland along an even narrower road and made our way towards the line of cliff-like mountains ahead of us. Despite the size of the road it was quite busy, with cars and vans going to and fro. As we approached the parking area, the road started to climb sharply, weaving up the side of the mountain with hairpin turns that reminded me of scenes in To Catch a Thief – though I drove considerably slower than Grace Kelly or Cary Grant. I am not a great one for heights so kept my eyes firmly on the road as I negotiated the turns, breathing again I think only when we reached the top and found a large car park for hikers and visitors.
There are a number of path options at this point, including one that is wide and gentle enough that – I think – it is wheelchair accessible. It is certainly easy enough for most to try, and if you ever find yourself here with an elderly or less mobile companion, I would encourage you to encourage them to give it a go, even with wind as strong as it was when we visited – strong enough to take your feet from under you. This sight of the Quiraing, the view across towards the ocean, lochs and hills in between, is one of the most stunning I have ever seen. Top ten in my life, no question. The stunning scenery of the Quiraing is caused in part by a series of landslips, and the sunlight plays dramatically off sharp pinnacles, grassy slopes, and sheer rock faces.
As Dad and I made the short loop, we could see to the right a rain storm coming our way. I knew there was not enough time to reach the car so while Dad made a dash for it anyway, I continued on my way, hoping to reach the next knoll. I tucked my camera inside my sweatshirt and waited to get wet. I have absolutely no regrets.
Yes, I got soaked, and the much better-equipped hikers passing me looked at me questioning my sanity, but I stayed and filmed the storm.
The rain passed in minutes and the sun returned, allowing me to watch the storm as it moved towards the sea. There is no question I need to return here and take the time to do at least some of the hike. We saw quite a few spectacular sights on this day, and on the trip as a whole, but this was definitely the top of the list. Eventually I steeled myself to drive back down the winding road and was delighted to discover that the road south was back to two lanes.
The next stop was Kilt Rock, which was very busy so that everyone was vying for the best photo spot. My companions had been before, so we continued on quickly, to Lealt Falls.
This is where, as we parked the car, we realised just how powerful the wind had become. It must have topped 70 MPH, so strong that it was a challenge to walk and loose hair whipped my face like needles.
The colour of the hills and water were stunning so Dad and I braved a short walk to a viewpoint, though I recall passing two small dogs that I worried would be blown away. The falls themselves are visible from a sturdy viewing gallery that stretches out over the chasm, and in the distance one can see the range of mountains that includes the Old Man of Storr.
Another famous Skye destination, the Old Man of Storr should not be missed. The picture below is taken from a treacherous parking area called the Rigg Viewpoint – treacherous due to its narrow spots, large busses and larger potholes.
But the view is stunning. From here, we continued on to the actual parking lot for the Old Man, and while my companions waited in the car I scampered up the first half mile or so of the trail, to a point where I could see over Loch Leathan and up to the rock face. Again, this is clearly a spot that must be viewed on foot from the hiking trail, and next trip I will be certain to conserve the time and energy to do so.
The day was creeping by, however, and so after a brief discussion of our options, we decided to return on the route we had come rather than continuing on to Portree. We did not really need to go that far and the A855 was so beautiful it was worth another look.
We did not stop as often on the return but Duntulm required another look; I parked more securely – again dodging enormous potholes – and Dad and I took the short walk out to the ruins. Here once more the wind was battling us, and at times it was a struggle both to walk and to hold the camera steady.
The castle here had been built in the 14th and 15th centuries, the seat of the Clan MacDonald of Sleat – rivals of the MacLeods who held land further south. Despite its strong defensive position, the site was abandoned in the 1700s and the stone was taken to help build Monkstadt House, several miles south. Monkstadt, incidentally, is now a luxury inn and restaurant that we looked at very briefly before realising it was a bit too luxury for our needs at the time – we resorted to pesto pasta.
Once we had our fill of the castle ruins – or I did, more accurately – we returned to our cottage. It was mid-afternoon and the wind was battering the building and bushes outside, the perfect time to sit in the living room with a cuppa and enjoy the sunshine, a book, and the view. The Homer is so well-built that were it not for the noise, you would never know it was windy; not a single breath of air disturbed us. While we had not had a partiuclarly long day, it was an exhausting and even emotional one and we were all, I think, ready for a rest and time to process and review all we had seen. For me, it was a chance to start planning my return…
The Wandering Medievalist 