Getting to Skye

I left Inverness to travel to Skye on the morning of Tuesday 23 June. The first leg of the trip was by train to Kyle of Lochalsh with the second leg by bus, first from Kyle to Broadford, and then from Broadford to Sabhal Mor Ostaig, the Gaelic college of Scotland, which is in Sleat.

I met a rather interesting character on the train called Tony who had been in to Inverness ("the big smoke") to buy a rather enormous LCD TV with a 58" screen. We got to talking on the trip and I was introduced to the wonders of Irn Bru (the local energy drink) and vodka. Tony lived in Kyle and ran a fishing company. He also told me about his late wife's family, as her father was the principal of a Gaelic-medium school on Skye. It made for a very interesting trip.

Then I arrived in Kyle of Lochalsh. I had a 2-hour wait til the bus to Broadford left so I had a wee wander around. For a small place, Kyle was quite touristy, mainly because it's a kind of 'gateway to the Western Isles' because this is where the bridge goes across from the Scottish mainland to Skye.

The first bus took me to Broadford. Finally, I was on the Isle of Skye! All those memories of my maternal grandmother who came out from Scotland in 1919 singing me songs and telling stories about Bonnie Prince Charlie came back to me in a rush!

One thing they don't tell you about the north of Scotland is how hot it is! Unlike NZ where the further south you go the colder it gets, up there for some reason it just gets warmer. The other thing is the length of the days - there is really only 2 or 3 hours of actual nighttime. There is this eerie twilight that just goes on for hours and hours.

So I spent some time sitting by the side of the road in a bus shelter feeling hot and bothered, hoping I was in the right place at the right time and anxious to make it to my final destination. Finally the bus came and picked me up. I was on my way to Sabhal Mor! I spent the whole 15 minute trip anxiously peering out the window in case I missed my stop and kicking myself for not spending the 30 minutes I had been waiting at Broadford walking to Sabhal Mor! I would have probably beaten the bus there.

Finally I had made it to Sabhal Mor Ostaig, the Gaelic college of Scotland. I walked down the driveway to what must be the most beautiful setting of any tertiary institution in the world for the next part of my adventure.