Here’s where I spent New Year, with a couple of big jigsaws and a bottle of malt.
On the east coast of Skye, it’s a tiny croft by the shore of the narrow waters separating Skye from mainland Scotland. That’s the other side in the picture - cattle were swum across, rather than driven round the long way.
Driving north from Manchester through the high winds and torrential rain of Storm Frank I’d wondered whether the Skye Bridge would still be open (the ferry was cancelled) but it was much calmer over on the west. The last twenty minutes was the spectacular climb up and over from the main road to Kylerhea, with the reward, when you come over the final ridge, of the little white croft-dots of the tiny hamlet spread out below . ‘Turn right by the red postbox and it's first on the left.’
Lovely to climb out of the car, walk to the edge of the water and exhale. Decompression time.