Lifting The Veil (#ScotTour Day 4)

On Day 4, we left Elgol to cycle to Portree.

The first part of the journey saw us retracing our steps back to Broadford. This was not however a matter of seeing the same things twice, because -- you may recall -- the first time we cycled this road, we couldn't see much due to the mist and low cloud.

On this sunny Sunday, however, all was revealed.

Crossing the cattle grid leaving Elgol. 

The Highlander overlooking Elgol

I had my first opportunity to take close-up photos of Flag Irises, which were blooming in mad profusion all over Skye. I had no idea irises could be yellow. I learned later that this is one of only two species of iris that are native to the UK and the only one native to Scotland. Large "stands" of Yellow Iris in western Scotland form important feeding and breeding habitat for the endangered Corn Crake. 

When we first cycled by, I thought they were
very late blooming daffodils. 

Today we could see across the Straithard peninsula, across Loch Slapin, across the Sleat peninsula to the mainland, all the way to Glen Shiel! (I didn't really believe Pauline, our B&B hostess, when she told us this but later worked out that she must indeed be right.)

Remember my nightmare hill on Day 2, with all the passing places I had to stop in? and all the midges?  That day, I couldn't see Adam ahead of me and couldn't see the top of the hill. 

Today, the view down looked like fun!

And once we were at the bottom, I felt compelled to look back at it again, as it would have appeared on the first day had visibility been better.

The road curves down through the hamlet of Cill Ma Ruibhe (Kilmarie) -- all of three houses and an old churchyard full of Mackinnons.

And then the road goes back up again.

But soon we were hugging the shores of Loch Slapin.

This was one of my favourite spots of cycling - it was hard to keep my eyes on the road, surrounded by such splendour.

masses of flag irises

We then turned away from the loch through Torrin and up onto the marshy bogland that cradles Loch Cill Chriosd.

I couldn't resist stopping for one last look back at Bla Bheinn and its neighbouring peaks in the Cuillin.

Did you notice the fields of white flowers?  So did we. They didn't quite look like daisies, so Adam ventured onto the bog in his cycling shoes to investigate further.

Any idea what this is? We could only compare it to cotton and it turns out our guess was pretty close.

Another view that I had to stop and savour.

Loch Cill Chriosd

We then came to a bit of a tourist attraction: the Church of Cill Chriosd (Kilchrist). Here there is a lay-by for vehicles and two signs explaining the significance of the landscape, once the site for a thriving marble "harvesting" industry. 

And then there are the ruins of the church -- very picturesque in a stunning setting.

This church was built in the 16th century (written records go back to 1505 A.D.) on the site of a medieval church. The first Protestant minister (a Mackinnon) took over in 1627 and the structure continued as the parish church of Strathaird (including many villages that 'disappeared' in the Clearances) until 1840. 

We overheard several people (all American) perusing the inscriptions on tombstones, looking for ancestral connections. This land lies on the border between MacDonald land (who controlled the Sleat peninsula) and the Mackinnons (who held Strathaird) but the Mackinnons were obviously "friendly" with the MacLeods (to the north and west), as the churchyard contains nearly as many MacLeods as Mackinnons. 

Up and over one more hill and then we were in Broadford. The wind on this side of the Isle felt a little brisker but we had no need to seek shelter from the rain in the trolley park as we had on Day 2. Instead, we bought picnic provisions in the Co-op and sat in the park that surrounds the war memorial overlooking the Inner Sound with the low-lying isle of Pabay.

We had a cheeky little visitor for most of our lunch. We'd never seen this species of bird before -- any guesses what he might be?

From Broadford to Portree (our destination for the night), the only option is the A87. 

And this seems a good time to talk about traffic, specifically driver behaviour. 

-- digressive essay on traffic starts here -- (I'll cue you when it's over - please feel free to skip ahead!)

In a word: excellent. The B roads are one lane wide, with 'bulges' to one side or the other side of the road at regular intervals, designated as places to pass or overtake, or indeed for two oncoming cars to negotiate getting past one another. Scotland's A roads are for the most part wide enough for just one lane in each direction, with no shoulder. The condition of road surfaces varies greatly (more on that later). So all things considered, it pays to pay attention!  Traffic volumes were never heavy, although of course that's a comparative evaluation, given that we live in the south of England. On the whole, however, we found drivers to be considerate. They did not pass it on blind corners or summits. They slowed down and hung back if there was not clear space to safely overtake, and when they did overtake, they gave us plenty of room. More impressively, they did not 'tailgate' us if they had to wait to overtake us, even if the delay went on for several minutes. Nor did they rev their engines or otherwise attempt to bully or intimidate, or even simply vent frustration. It seemed to me that drivers on Skye do not assume that they are free to go as fast as they like. Many of their roads are narrow and they know this. They look ahead, judge the speed and distance of other road users and adjust their own behaviour accordingly. This is exactly the kind of proactive behaviour that should be taught to all new drivers. In the South East, if it is indeed 'taught', drivers seem to quickly 'forget' and start throwing their weight around the roads. Even if they don't bully other road users, they become so accustomed to delays and stop-start traffic flow that they stop looking beyond the couple of cars in front of them, with perhaps some awareness of the car immediately behind them. But an awareness of the bigger picture and the advantages of driving in a way that fits in with the overall flow.... no.  On Skye, though, drivers look ahead, think ahead and as a consequence also slow down and speed up much more smoothly and consistently. These are skills southerners seem to utterly disdain, if they are aware of them at all. They certainly don't try to develop them. To be fair, heavy traffic congestion does encourage a certain kind of thinking and behaviour. And we were so pleased to be well away from that during our visit to Skye. 

-- digressive essay ends here --

So, here we were on the A87. I was tense leaving Broadford, as I saw that the road was just one lane wide, with no shoulder. I expected a steady (if not heavy) flow of traffic, perhaps to be overtaken by a car doing at least 60mph at fairly regular intervals, perhaps 3-5 times per minute. And I expected delivery trucks and lorries, with the attendant air disturbances as they go by. 

In truth, it wasn't so bad. In fact, "not so bad" is too subjective, as it could suggest that I was so tense and nervous that anything short of the Apocalypse would seem anti-climatic, i.e. "not so bad" in the truest British sense.

But, to be honest, cycling along the A87 was pretty darn good. The road surface was constantly changing* and it's not like traffic was non-existent, but as I said, drivers were sensible. Not only did we not feel "threatened", after a while I began to relax and some time later realised I didn't even feel particularly "vulnerable". And there were hardly any large vehicles. The absence of lorries was particularly striking but on this first day on the A87, I assumed that this was because it was Sunday. ("We'll just have to see what it's like on Thursday when we come back down the island - then we'll see some trucks for sure!" I know I said a few times -- and must have thought several dozen.) In fact, during our entire holiday, we saw perhaps a dozen trucks in total, mostly gas tankers. And we had no problem 'sharing the road' with those drivers either. 

Soon after leaving Broadford, we noticed a van pulled off beside the road. Four or five people were walking towards it, several of them carrying binoculars. As we passed the truck, I spotted the lettering on its side: "Isle of Skye Wildlife Tours". This outfit was one that I had seriously thought about booking a day with during our stay in Portree where they are based, with the hope that we could see some otters and sea eagles (amongst other things). For one reason or another, I hadn't managed to make a booking before we left home and now here we were on our way to Portree having already seen a pair of sea eagles giving us a fine aerial display over the cliffs of Mull, just the day before. And I knew there was a potential to see sea otters later on in our trip. While I no longer felt a 'need' to book a tour, this "sighting" of the Wildlife Tour group caught my eye. And I would definitely consider booking a day out with them, next time we visit Skye. 

The A87 hugs the eastern coast of Skye most of the way to Portree. It passes through several small villages, the largest probably being Luig, which lies about halfway up the eastern shores of Loch Ainort. I thought I recognised the landscape and topography of the road (from my visit in 2008) and called out to Adam "just after these trees, keep an eye out on the right for an old thatched roof cottage". 

And sure enough, there it was. 

At this point, we were actually feeling some heat from the sun. To our left was a road (which if followed could take you all the way back through the Cuillin to the bridge over the river at the head of Loch Slapin) and the turning into that road had quite a wide layout, so we pulled in for a breather, a few sips of our drinks and a good look around. 

Carrying on up to the head of Loch Ainort, Adam pulled a surprise on me:  he indicated an intention to turn right off the A87 onto a road that I can only describe as a "track". I followed him onto it and we crossed a bridge over the stream that feeds into Loch Ainort (having tumbled from a great height above us, more a series of waterfalls than a stream - and one I had vivid memories of being in full spate during the wild storm that hit us back in 2008). At the first opportunity, I asked Adam why we were going this way and he said "this is the route you plotted". 

I was totally surprised. I thought my route planning had us sticking with the A87, even though I knew that meant a steep climb -- which I could see high above us from the dirt track we were now on. I didn't know what to think. It would be great to avoid that hill on the main road above us, if we could, but I had never been on this road and didn't know where it went or what condition it was in, or how long it would take us to go around the coast like this to meet back up with the A87 (which takes a short cut over the base of the peninsula we were now circling, hence the big climb up and over).

Hmmm. But Adam had it on his SatMap route... and our planned mileage for the day wasn't too high... and with that A87 hill now out of the picture, there was now only the climb away from the Sligachan Hotel to worry about (and oh, how I was already dreading that one anyway)..... so how badly wrong could this go? 

As it happened, not badly wrong at all. We got a good look at a salmon farm in Loch Ainort (which we hadn't noticed at all from our stop near the thatched cottage directly opposite). 

Salmon farm - with Luib on the far shore

view up Loch Ainort

And from here to Portree, I seem to have suffered major Photo Documentation Failure. Our ride around the peninsula, coming back out on the A87 just before Sconser, was pleasant and uneventful. The road surface was very old tarmac that hadn't been repaired for at least three winters -- probably more -- and was so potholed and gravelly, it may as well never have been tarmacked. We saw two men working and we overtook a woman walking but otherwise saw not a soul and encountered no traffic, for all of six miles. 

Back on the A87, we cycled through Sconser and stopped briefly at the Caledonian MacBrayne ferry terminal to top up water bottles and use the toilet. Well, it was me needing those things. Adam seems to run on far less water than I do and consequently requires far fewer "comfort breaks"! (He also doesn't sweat. Have I said before, sometimes I think he's an alien?)

Three miles from Sconser, we reached the head of Loch Sligachan. My sister and I stayed at the bunkhouse linked to the Sligachan Hotel, and I tried to take a good look around here again but unfortunately the road surface was particularly bad here and we suddenly encountered quite a number of motor homes on the road, heading in both directions, so all of our attention was taken up with not hitting potholes and not getting hit by motor home drivers -- all of whom seemed to be Dutch (who struggle to remember which side of the road they are meant to be driving on) or German (who drive too fast). 

Ah well. 

A lot of the motor homes seemed to be bound for, or coming from, the caravan/camping park on the loch just below the hotel. As soon as we had passed the hotel (with its turn-off to Loch Harport and the western coast of Skye all the way to Dunvegan), the traffic disappeared. This was a good thing as we were now on the climb up, up, and up from Sligachan and on across an alpine-esque plateau before we would follow the Varragill River down to Portree. 

I expected this climb to be tough. I'm not sure why, as I don't have a clear memory of it being difficult in 2008 driving a 602cc-engined classic convertible (the experience of which had informed a lot of my route planning: "If the Dyane could do it, carrying two people and lots of luggage, then we can do it on bike" being my measuring stick -- and, as it happens, a fairly accurate one, too.)

The section of the road going up (from this direction) had recently been re-surfaced. The gradient was consistent. Sight lines were very good -- except for one blind summit towards the top, and that was signposted well in advance. I quickly found a gear that I found comfortable, at a level of effort I thought I could maintain, and I simply spun my way to the top with no drama at all. Triumph! Although to be honest, my emotions as I reached the top were a little more along the lines of "That was it?" 

(We would have two more climbs during this holiday that I dreaded just as much beforehand and, as it happened, justifiably so, although in completely different ways.)

The view to our left as we cycled along the plateau after the climb.

The descent along the Varragill River was also a surprise but for entirely the opposite reason. I had it bookmarked in my mind as the reward after the climb, something to look forward to, knowing the work for the day had been done, we had survived... a nap, shower and dinner awaited... hooray, hooray. But it was not to be. We had a stiff headwind. For nine miles, I struggled down the hill, confronted with repeated shifts in gradient and frequent gear changes. I was never in a comfortable gear and not once could I freewheel. The wind hurt my sunburnt face and brought stinging tears to my eyes. It was one of the few almost-miserable stretches on our entire tour, and certainly the longest stretch that was less than pleasurable. 

On the outskirts of Portree, we stopped to check our map, having realised I hadn't checked the B&B location since making the reservations six months previously! A woman walking by with her daughter asked if she could help. On hearing that we were looking for Braeside B&B, she kindly gave us instructions -- very detailed instructions. I began to wish I was writing it all down. It sounded quite complicated. As Adam and I rode away, we repeated to each other what she'd said "left into the square, left again, then right, and then... what?" Portree is hilly. I knew this. I also knew the B&B was on a hill to the north of the town centre. Trying to follow our friendly local's directions, we went up hills then down others only to then find ourselves going up again. We came to the end of a T-junction and found that it was one-way -- the wrong way. And uphill again. I asked Adam to go investigate, I would just wait here. After a little while, I set off to follow him, only to meet him coming back down shaking his head. We went back down the hill, nearly back to the town centre. And that's where we found our B&B.  The only way we can make sense of that lady's directions afterwards was to imagine how she would have got there herself... in a car. The B&B was at the very bottom of a hill, on a one-way street going into the town centre. By bicycle (and without breaking any laws or going the wrong way down one-way streets), it was as easy as going around two sides of the town square. Job done. 

And what a wonderful location. 

Braeside B&B, overlooking Portree harbour

Portree town square

After a quick shower and change into 'street clothes', we wandered around the square perusing the menus posted at the entrances of various eateries. We made a few mental notes for the following evenings, and then went to The Granary. 

I had been here before with my sister -- on a very dark, grey, foggy day it had seemed a dry refuge where we huddled and dripped onto the floor and wrote a few postcards and tried to cheer ourselves up. Amazing how much the weather can affect your mood.

The Granary Restaurant on the square

And what better way to end a hard (but rewarding) day than by sampling one of the island's brews. 

And the food was really wonderful, too. 

My fish (already mostly eaten by the time I remembered to
take a photograph).  The salad was truly wonderful,
especially the asparagus.  And I am not a fan of asparagus. 

Adam's beef

Three nights of superb food in a row.... could our luck hold? **

Today's journey covered 67.4km in 4 hours 20 minutes, with an average moving speed of 15.6km/hr.  Here is our route: 

http://ridewithgps.com/routes/4707084

* I will write about road surfaces in more detail in another post but suffice it here to say, we cycled on some surfaces that were smooth as silk -- hands down the best I've ever cycled -- and others that were about as bad as it could be while still being called "tarmac" -- and that'd be stretching it some. Sometimes, these extremes were experienced all within the same mile.

** No. There will be a separate blog post about our experiences with food and accommodation. The food was either outstanding or "at least it's edible, barely". Our verdicts on accommodation are much more nuanced, as every place we stayed had aspects very much in its favour but each also had oddities, things we wish we could have known in advance, which, while they did not spoil our stay, we would have preferred to do differently if we could. I am not a restaurant or B&B critic, but will give a full run-down on every establishment we stayed in and restaurant we dined at (as well as alternatives we discovered on the spot that might have suited us better) in case our notes may be of use to other travellers.