With the success of our evening walk yesterday — having the entire place to ourselves, and walking during Golden Hour — we thought we’d do the same thing again for our next walk. Being in a motorhome and thus having the ability to stay anywhere gives us a huge advantage in getting to see places from a different perspective!
We spend the day parked by The Quiraing, working and watching busloads of sightseers come and go. We take off in the afternoon and drive southwards to Storr, part of the same long landslip that formed The Quiraing.
There’re still a bunch of cars around the car park, so we hang around until a bit later, then start up the path which disappears into gloomy pine forest (about which our friend Keith wrote so beautifully recently).
Eventually we emerge, blinking, onto a landscape bare of trees — a smooth, grassy slope ascends, dotted with stones great and small that have tumbled from the escarpments above. A glance behind us yields a vision of islands jostling one another on the horizon, masked by the furry tips of the pine forest through which we’d just passed.
I hang about for a bit, while Katherine runs off with the camera to photograph some baby pine trees.
Further up, we wind our way around to the left, up and over the ridge, and find ourselves in a grassy bowl, surrounded by the hulking shapes of old boulders. Immediately, I devise a theory as to how the trolls-into-stone idea came about.
The old man’s in there somewhere:
This may or may not be him, but whatever it is is smug about something.
We have designs on climbing up further, but there are signs up blocking the way, proclaiming that there’d been rock falls, and it was unsafe. Too bad — turns out we’d missed some amazing views! Perhaps next time. So, back down the mountain we go, as evening sets in.