Ack! It was our last full day in Skye. Though we’d done much of what we’d wanted to do, a big one that was left was to visit potteries, and another was to visit the town of Uig. There was also one remaining local walk in the book we’d found at the Farmhouse that seemed really intriguing and do-able. And on my list was the Fairy Glen, which when the others read about it seemed like a must-visit. So we had a plan: drive to Uig stopping at potteries, visit the Fairy Glen, and then see what time it was when we got back.
Had breakfast and then made sandwiches with our renewed provisions, got water bottles and packs together, and we were all set. I should say that we hadn’t yet filled the petrol tank, the SEAT Ateca had been doing a marvelous job in many respects, especially in absorbing potholes on B roads with a shrug.
Got on the A850 East again, but this time after a few miles we turned right onto Old Dunvegan Road into the small town of Edinbane, which has a charming stream running through the middle. We stopped at the Edinbane Pottery. The only staff there was one potter, who was a little preoccupied by what she was throwing, but cheerfully answered questions. Jim and SarahP didn’t find exactly what they wanted though, so we left, telling the potter that we might be back.
Pulled back onto the A850 toward Portree, but this time when we got to the crossroads at Borve, we took a left toward the North, up the West side of the Trotternish Peninsula on the A87, instead of continuing into Portree. This was another beautiful stretch of road, even though it was raining lightly. We passed a pair of standing stones in Kensaleyre, and then drove North up the coast of Loch Snizort Beag.
As we were approaching Uig we missed the sudden right we had to take to get to Fairy Glen, Sheader Road, but then doubled back. Sheader Road showed signs of petering out after a few hundred yards, but then suddenly there was an overflowing car park with people parking on the road and a traffic enforcement guy handing out tickets! Where did all these cars come from? We managed to find a spot and double-checked with the parking official that it was a legal one, quickly purchased our parking pass, and then grabbed our stuff and started down the trail in the drizzling rain.
Fairy Glen is apparently one of the most popular places on Skye, and we had to admit it was beyond charming. The footpath wound between low but impossibly steep hills, covered with greenery and sheep, like we’d just arrived in Hobbiton. We expected to see round wood doors in some of the small hills. Though we’d been on our feet for days now, the setting did some magic on us and we almost wanted to run around and up some of these strange, small hills, which got bigger as we went deeper into the glen. But there were discreet ropes and signs discouraging us from doing this. They must get even more people there regularly than we saw on a rainy Tuesday.
The centerpiece of the glen is a hill topped by a rock formation that looks kind of like a castle, called Castle Ewen. It looks a bit imposing but is not a very hard climb, though with the rain and the worn rocks and the mud (and the sheep shit) it was kind of slippery. I climbed to the small top though and managed to stand up there and gaze around in all directions before I decided I’d better climb down before I fell off.
Again, this was a charming place, and if you were so inclined you could definitely sense invisible fairies dancing all around you, even in the rain. There are many references to fairies in Skye and legends about them, like the Fairy Flag displayed in Dunvegan Castle (accompanied by four possible origin stories). From the Fairy Glen we had a lovely view across the valley of Glen Conon, with waterfalls cascading from the cliffs opposite us.
We walked through the Glen and the path dumped us out on the road with dire No Parking signs all along it. We hopped back onto the footpath after a bit though and followed it back to the car park. Still a lot of stuff to do that day.
We drove back down Sheader Road and turned right on the A87, which curls around Uig harbor and dead ends at its ferry dock. And the harbor area was chaotic! The whole ferry dock, which is one of the main jumping off points for the Outer Hebrides, was a construction zone, as they were re-building the massive car park. We were able to thread through it and get just beyond the dock, where a few businesses were open, including the Uig Pottery.
We looked around and loved a bunch of things we saw there, including an assortment of pottery quaiches. We got Dave a pottery puffin (though we hadn’t seen any, we were hoping we would), and SarahP and Jim got bowls for their kids. I waited outside after a while and saw that the Skye Brewery had their store just near the dock, which I toured quickly, though I opted not to get anything.
Right, time to find a place to eat our sandwiches, though with the persistent light rain and the fact that the center of town was a hole in the ground this seemed like it would be a challenge. We drove a bit and noticed that the A85 took a sharp turn up the hill behind town, so we followed that and then SarahE noticed that there was supposedly a scenic turnout up that road. We stopped there and it sure was scenic, though there was nowhere to sit, and the sheep shit was everywhere. We stood and ate our sandwiches in the rain, looking out over the harbor. This was about as far North as we got (except possibly for Rogie Falls the next day), approximately at the latitude of Juneau, Alaska.
This was a beautiful spot too, and it was spooky how the whole harbor could be covered with fog in one instant, and then in the next it would clear and the whole scene would be revealed, and the sun would almost peek out. There were even a few nice-looking boats in the harbor, though most of the boats I saw in Skye looked unseaworthy at the best. We realized that this turnout was the road up to the Quiraing, which is the “A+” hike we’d been warned away from. And the funny thing was that, though we were the only ones there when we got there, the crowd soon followed, and we were barely able to get out of the informal car park with some jerk parking on the road.
Ok, back down the steep, switch-backing road, left on the A87 again, and then we climbed up the opposite hill out of town. Just as we did, the fog cleared again and the huge ferry from the Outer Hebrides was steaming into the harbor. Good thing we got out of town before it disgorged its passengers.
We re-traced our steps, back onto the A850 at Borve, realizing this was the beginning of our farewell to Skye, the last time we’d see some of these amazing sites. Just as we were about there, I convinced people to turn off and go see the Fairy Bridge that I had glimpsed from the road. It was a small, old stone bridge to nowhere, over a raging stream. There was no documentation, so that made it even more charming.
Back in the car and farewell to the ruins of St. Mary’s and the Millennium Stone, then a final drive past Dunvegan Castle up to our beautiful Farmhouse. The cuckoo was still making his almost comical call, like a broken clock. But it had turned into a hazy, sunny day, there was still time in the afternoon, and we were determined to get one more thing in, the Fiadhairt Peninsula.
A few miles up the Claigan Road there’s a little grass area on the right where you can park, and if you then cross the causeway at the foot of Loch Suardal, you can turn onto a farm path, go through a stile, and up the hill onto the moor. We’d read about this walk in the local walks book, but nowhere else mentioned it and there was no one else there the whole time. The path winds up between two hills, then downhill across an isthmus between a cove of Loch Dunvegan and Camalaig Bay. We were delighted by the fact that there was such a huge, unpopulated area, by the beautiful day, and by the sea, the moor (though we got our feet wet periodically), the wildflowers, and the hills.
I’d gotten a glimpse of Dun Fiadhairt Broch when we crested the prior ridge, but then we crested another and it was majestically in front of us, across another stretch of moor that promised lots of hidden muddy patches. I went for it anyway, entranced by the broch 100 yards away, with an opening outlining the blue sky. This broch was almost as well preserved as the larger Dun Beag Broch we’d seen the other day and was apparently rarely visited. I climbed up the steep slope, through the opening, and its real nature revealed itself to me: this was the broch of huge black slugs. They were all over the place!
The others had found a way around on some surrounding hills, avoiding the swampiest parts, and we all clambered around the homelike insides and the walls. From the broch you got a view of the entrance of Loch Dunvegan between two low hills; it was on top of a hill, but mostly hidden from the sea (and maybe from Vikings) except for that sneaky vista. We all loved this place, it was a fantastic, mellow, mysterious, lovely last walk on Skye.
We returned over the surrounding hills but had our directions a bit wrong and had to then clamber over and around another high hill to get back to the isthmus, and the farm path back to the road. We found a huge fish skeleton, missing its head.
Back to the Farmhouse one last time. They had a washer and dryer there, and I’d done a load earlier in the week. But I did another big load after our last hike. I set it on an “eco” setting, and it took over three hours to do that one load! Oh well, the clothes dried quickly enough for us to get them packed before bedtime.
We had to finish all remaining food, and Jim made a large omelette for dinner with all remaining eggs and mushrooms, and we made a good start on emptying out all jars of condiments too. Soon it was time for a last round of packing, TV, cards, and then bed.
Digression on Boats/Water
One thing I’d always anticipated when thinking of Scotland was that I’d be able to experience the Atlantic Ocean on the Scottish coast. When we’ve been to California, I’ve been able to experience the Pacific by wading in it, looking at tidal pools, feeling the seaweed, etc. Unfortunately, I really didn’t get this connection with the ocean in Scotland. The tide was always low, there weren’t good opportunities for wading, and there wasn’t much seaweed or flotsam of any kind, though I saw some jellyfish at Neist Point. I saw some tidal pools, but they were mostly choked with algae. And I was anticipating seeing the Atlantic in angry mode on a Northern coast, but there was never much onshore wind. Oh well!
Note that I did get a good feel for the North Sea beach, later in Norfolk.
And there were so few boats!?! We saw an ugly tug tied up in Portree and some ugly boats moored in the harbor, a small sailboat off of Neist Point, saw the big, handsome car ferry off of Uig, and saw a relatively very small cruise ship in Loch Dunvegan, and a couple of outboard launches ferrying passengers into town and back from it. There were a few boats on moorings in Uig, some of them handsome. But that was it. And some of the boats I saw on moorings or in marinas waiting to be launched looked dangerously unseaworthy. Scotland was not good for boat watching.
