Yesterday we packed the car and headed up North, driving from Edinburgh through the wild mountainous heart of Scotland, towards Skye. As we travelled from East to West, climbing higher into the hills, the snow became thinner, and the mountain tops looked as though they had been dusted with icing sugar.
The roads are spectacular, carving their way through mountains, glens and lochs, in dizzying twists and straights which leave you wondering which direction you are pointing.
It’s been so cold the deer were low on the slopes, searching for sweet green shoots.
We stopped at the Commando Memorial, which overlooks the harsh mountainous training ground used by the British Commandos during World War II. Potential candidates travelled up from as far as London, on a 12 hour train journey, and then had to walk 7 miles with all their equipment, to the training camp. Many were weeded out and set home at this point. Those who were left learned how to survive on next to nothing amid these mountains. Many current day commandos who have lost their lives in recent conflicts choose to have their ashes scattered here.
We continued on the twisting roads, hugging the sides of lochs and reservoirs, further and further west, dropping down towards the sea and warmth.
The sea is spread out in the shape of Loch Alsh, with Eileen Donnan Castle at its head, guarding the ancient passage inland. Away in the distance are the mountains of Skye. We were nearly there