Below us there was a loch ringed with hills. In the distance, mountains. Before us, a road that led to the shore. We hadn’t a clue where we were… unless heaven has a place on the map. All we knew was that coming over the crest of the hill we were faced with unbelievable beauty and a light that reached into the very depths of the heart.
We were not map reading. The road we had taken, through the Highlands from Dingwall to Kyle of Lochalsh, was a simple one to follow; the hills, lochs and forests were not really opening many side roads… It was not until we came down to the water’s edge at Balmacara that we realised that we had reached what was to be our destination for the night. We were looking across Loch Alsh to the Isle of Skye.
That was as far as our planning had managed to get. We had nowhere booked for the night and evening had long since drawn in. We had planned on sorting something out earlier, but leaving late, that had taken second place to finding food and getting across the country. However, as luck would have it, where we had parked there were a couple of guest houses and a hotel.
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