from Portree to Flodigarry

That means we start from where we planned to reach last evening. At the old man of Storr. Rain ponchos of many colors move up and down the slope, wind makes people walk sideways. A sign at the rangers' office promises wind-chill -5 ºC on the top.

At the lava sculptures starts the Trotternish ridge, the longest landslide in Britain. It's 60 million years old. No dinosaurs here anymore though.

Wind gets stronger the further up we go. Sheep have sought out the few sheltered places. Briefly we can see almost the whole ridge before it disappears into fast-moving cloud. Rain feels like hail. Keeping away from the ridge, we follow a line in GPS to prevent us from circling in one place. The wind makes breathing difficult. Our feet get wet in no-time but still there is some urge to seek out drier spots. Lukewarm water inside the shoe is still a bit more pleasant than new chilly water coming in. When the trail goes lower between the peaks we see some pits of stunning landscape below. Most of the time there are of course no views except for a dreamy gray wet grassland and fighting with the wind.

The ridge lowers out of the cloud finally at the Quiraing, after many hours of what felt like an eternal dusk. The rain gets less. Landscape here is unbelievable. Plus the fact that we can finally see it.

Tired and wet, we decide to press on until Flodigarry, hoping to stay in the hostel there. It seems too windy to camp up here somewhere.

The hostel is temporally closed, the owners on vacation. We manage to get permission to camp in the yard which is nice. It feels so good to put on dry socks after walking 31 km on wet ground.