A tale from Sgoire breac

I am back from a wee trip to the Isle of Skye to visit my friends who I have not seen in a little while, I always have an amazing time when I go there, I am in complete awe of the scenery all around.  However this weekend, I think it has to be said was a little special as the weather was absolutely gorgeous and the beauty of Skye seemed to magnify intensely.  I travel to Skye by train and ferry with a stop over in Edinburgh or Glasgow, usually Glasgow, the journey is long and totals 12 hours travelling time and is quite tiring, after yesterdays journey I am feeling lethargic and flat, but you know what, the journey is so worth it because it is absolutely stunning especially the bit in between Glasgow and Mallaig.  I was talking to my friends and I have decided that next time I go I might brave it and drive, stay a bit longer and do a little island hopping.  There is a place I really want to stop off at called the Sands of Morar, it is just before Mallaig, you can see the beach from the train and it looks amazing whatever the weather is, although this weekend with the weather the way it was the white sand, cloudless blue sky and turquoise blue sea looked amazing and I just felt like I wanted to be there.


                               Port of Mallaig

Whenever I travel I always take a journal with me so if I want to write something I can. When I travelled I kept a travel journal and a blog, it is so nice to go back and read about my thoughts and feelings at that time in that particularly place, I sometimes read it back and think, “oh wow, I forgot about that.”  On Sunday Morning after breakfast I took myself off and had a little walk by myself, I went to a place called Sgoire breac which over looks the Bay of Portree, I had been the day before with my friend and her little boy and I just loved it, there was something very calming and peaceful about he place and I wanted to experience that again.   Sgoire breac was the ancesteral home of the Clan Chief of the Nicholsons.  The remains of the Chiefs house with an outline of the garden can be seen from there.  Whilst I was up there I wrote in my journal and thought I would add it to this post…..


Today is Sunday my last full day on Skye, currently I am sat on a bench looking out onto the Bay of Portree at Sgoire breac, the view I am sure you will agree is absolutely stunning.  I have just tried to do a few yoga moves, (there is no one else here but me so who cares) but it is a bit hilly and found myself in difficulty when I tried to move into the eight curves to downward dog, so I abandoned that and decided to write this instead.  It is so quiet here and all I can here are the birds, the sea is so calm that I can hardly here it.  On the way up here a rabbit crossed my path with a little white tale, I wonder if that is lucky.


View from Sgoire


It has been an amazing trip so far, I am unable to get the journey to Skye to connect in one day by train, so I had a stop over in Glasgow on Thursday and I bought a new dress and a few other bits and bobs, I was in that spending mood you get every so often and I could have spent more but had to restrain my self as my case was already packed for four seasons as it was.

Bluebells at Sgoire

Friday I set off on the 9.03am train from Glasgow to Malliag, it is a five hour journey and I always make sure I have plenty of food, books, magazines, note book and pen but apart from eating food I never do any of the others because I am far too pre-occupied with the views, it is so beautiful, just five hours of sitting back, relaxing and taking it all in.  In total the train stops about 27 or 28 times, some of the stations are so remote it is hard to imagine where anyone who gets off there is going, although now I know the answer to this one.  People often get off at these stations who are walking in the mountains, apparently they are not accessible by roads and the train is perfect for this, so there you go, you learn something new every day.


On the way up I was talking to a couple who were ding the steam train journey between Fort William and Mallaig for her fortieth birthday.  Having travelled alone on numerous occasions I never worry about being alone because there is always somebody to if you fancy a conversation and if you are open enough to having a conversation with a complete stranger you get to meet some of the most amazing people you will ever meet.  Coincidently I was reading an interview with Simon Reeve in the Lonely Planet travel magazine and what he says is very true, he says


“I am still amazed, consistently on my journeys, by the people I meet.  Humans are generally quite wonderful.  In terms of what’s evolved on earth over nearly five billion years, we are by far the most fascinating thing.  I never tire of meeting new people and hearing about their experiences-whether it’s a postman who has gone on holiday to Mexico, or an Australian Aboriginal.  There are a lot of stories out there.”


Sure there are some people who are not up for chatting like the young lady who was first sat next to me on the train, once she realised I was chatty she seemed to move away from me pretty sharp to sit on her own to continue doing her knitting on her own but that is fine.  Although I did wonder if she moved because she thought I was a little strange. There was some confusion over my seat to which I take full responsibility for but in my defence I was tired.


Yesterday was Skye’s half marathon and this morning at the B and B where I was staying had breakfast with the oldest participant, his name was Angus.  At 77 years old he was about to take part in his four hundred and thirty first event, he started running at the age of 49 after deciding he needed a life change.  He has run marathons all over the world, Cyprus, New York, Paris, how amazing is that, such a life achievement and it just proves that you are never to old to start something new..


Just before I finish on a stone up here is a little tale about an old Gaelic saying.  It was said that all highlanders had a right to deer from the hill, a tree from the wood and a fish from the river.  However by the late 1700’s, early 1800’s many Highland land lords no longer wanted ordinary people to help themselves.  Norman Nicholson, the last chief of the Nicholsons wrote a song about it,


It is highly unlikely that I shall ever climb again

To the forest of the hills it is unlikely


My slender gun is rusted

And I shall not go to hunt with it again


I got a letter from the nobles

That I could not go to the hill


I am now going to the Indies

And I shall never see my sweetheart again



Lovely View


Thank you so much for reading 🙂 xxxx

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