Speaking in Garlic
Trip Start
May 27, 2011
1
3
14
Trip End
Jun 05, 2011
Where I stayed
Kyle of Lochalsh, Scotland, United Kingdom
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Princess nighties, and other supplies purchased, we caught the train to Kyle of Lochalsh, which is the end of the line. The next bus out to Skye was an hour away and there was a squall of rain battering at us as we disembarked, so we ran for the shelter of Hector's Cafe and grabbed some lunch. Saskia ordered a burger as big as her head and pulled some grand faces when she accidentally ate a large slice of raw onion.
The bus made good time and we changed in Broadford. The sharp outline of the mountains was bathed in sunshine one minute and hidden beneath clouds and driving rain the next. The schizophrenic weather couldn't make up its mind, changing without warning. Blue skies gave way to hail and sleet. Then it cleared up again, miraculously.
The BMC had booked two cottages in Sligachan, slap bang in the middle of the Cuillins. The view, during the brief weather windows, was of mountains; conical, pointed and steep, with razor-back ridges. I went on a mission to find a mobile signal. It was a long trudge down to the bridge by the hotel, and across to the bus shelter to make calls every night in the wind and rain.
A handful of the group had arrived, but Vince and our luggage hadn't. The kids explored. People arrived, a car load at a time and the huts filled up. Eventually Vince arrived, with ready cooked stew, and the starving hikers mobbed him for it.
"Tapalet" said the twins, to Vince's blank stare. "That's Garlic for 'Thank you'!" they explained.
