See Scotland Supplement - Jan 2005
THE ISLE OF SKYE, NORTH WEST HIGHLANDS
The precipitous peaks of the Cuillins were backlit by the midday sun and stood almost in silhouette - black, brooding and utterly bewitching - while the foreground glistened like a million tiny diamonds as the sun reflected off a light layer of frost. My friend, like so many before her, was dumbstruck.
Skye is the largest island of the Inner Hebrides’ archipelago and a place whose wild, dramatic beauty seems to seduce anyone who experiences it, often luring people back repeatedly and, sometimes, even permanently.
Known also as Eilean a’ Cheo – the island of mist – Skye is infamous for its often inclement weather but on this occasion we were blessed with the most spectacular day; a crisp, sunny and calm morning where the low-slung winter sun cast an amber glow over the fields and hillsides as we drove along the main road to Portree and the Trotternish peninsula beyond.
For a landmass of only 50 miles long and 25 miles at its widest point, Skye has a fairly diverse landscape. In the south, the Sleat peninsula, otherwise known as ‘the garden of Skye’, offers green and leafy woodland with a variety of flora, and birch, rowan and ash trees.
Perhaps the most famous area of Skye, the Cuillins, can be found in the triangle between the Sleat peninsula, Sligachan and Glen Brittle. The rounded, granite peaks of the red Cuillins seem fairly approachable in contrast to the jagged, gabbro summits of the black Cuillins, which stand majestic and aloof and often shrouded in mist.
At the north of the island, the geologically captivating peninsulas of Trotternish, Vaternish and Duirinish protrude into the Atlantic like three grasping fingers. The landscape here is slightly more barren with wild moors, sheer rugged cliffs, ancient castles and sea lochs which have, over the millennia, eroded further into the land leaving a plethora of inlets and coves. Indeed, it is said that the coastline of the island measures almost a thousand miles.
We reached Portree, the largest town on Skye and worth a visit, not least to walk along its pretty, colourful harbour. The town’s name comes from the Gaelic Port an Righ, which means ‘the King’s harbour’; in the mid 16th century, King James V of Scotland arrived with a dozen ships to ‘encourage’ the rebellious Highland chiefs to be a little more patriotic.
Above the harbour stands the Royal Hotel, once a thatch-roofed inn, and reputedly the spot where Prince Charles Edward Stuart – the Bonnie prince – bade farewell to Flora MacDonald after she smuggled him to Skye from the Outer Hebrides as he fled the Redcoats.
A few miles to the north along the Staffin road, we rounded a bend and the Old Man of Storr appeared before us. This 160 foot basalt monolith sits under the Storr ridge which itself rises to a height of over 2300 feet. Nestled below the Storr rocks is Loch Fada, which was as smooth as a sheet of glass and gave us a perfect mirror image of the impressive volcanic ridge towering above.
Travelling along this coast road with a blue sky, almost devoid of cloud, we were afforded excellent views of the islands of Raasay and Rona and in the distance, the coast of Ross-Shire and the Torridon Hills.
The Kilt Rocks were our next stopping point; a vertiginous set of cliffs, named because the rock face resembles the pleats of a kilt. There is a viewing platform at the edge of the precipitous drop from where the Kilt Rock waterfall can be seen hurtling over the edge of the cliffs and crashing into the Atlantic below.
The road begins to skirt inland a bit towards the village of Staffin, which takes its name from the Norse – Staffr - meaning pillar. Many of the place names on the island are derived from the Viking tongue; the warriors from Scandinavia spent over 400 years occupying Skye between the 8th and 13th centuries.
In some parts of the north it is so completely desolate and devoid of people or houses that you could stand by the sea and almost visualise a long boat landing and a score of chunky, long-haired, battle-hardy men rushing off to plunder the nearest settlement.
Above the picture-postcard village of Staffin with its white, stone cottages set almost at the shore edge, looms the Quiraing, an ancient, eroded landslip of spires and slopes and one of the most popular walking areas on the island.
We reached the very tip of the peninsula and Duntulm castle, perched atop vertigo-inducing cliffs which rise up from the Minch.
Originally built as a protective fort, by the Picts, Duntulm was taken over by the Vikings when they invaded Skye. Over the centuries it was built up into a castle whose occupation fluctuated between the Clan MacLeod and the Clan MacDonald as they battled each other for possession of Trotternish. Eventually it was abandoned in the 1730s after, as legend has it, the Clan Chief’s son accidentally fell from a window into the angry sea below.
There was nothing angry about it today though and we ate our packed lunch of tea and sandwiches while gazing across an unusually calm Minch, to the western isles of Lewis, Harris and north Uist.
Having rounded the tip of Trotternish we made our way down the west side of the peninsula, which is separated from Vaternish by Loch Snizort.
Passing Kilmuir cemetery we saw the monument in remembrance of the brave Flora MacDonald, and further on, the village of Uig situated on the side of a rocky headland, before travelling back to Portree. Sadly time did not allow a visit to Dunvegan castle, or the Duirinish and Minginish peninsulas.
A quick dash back down the island and along the Sleat coastline ensured we arrived at the Aird of Sleat just in time to see the sun set spectacularly, in an orange and yellow explosion, behind the isle of Eigg.
A great many things have been penned about the Isle of Skye over the years but one excerpt that perhaps captures the utter addictiveness of this magical place was written by the legendary travel writer and explorer Paul Theroux:
“I stayed and climbed part of the way up a red mountain merely to have another glimpse at the Cuillins. I did not go any closer. I wanted to save them for another time. I had seen so much on the British coast that I never wanted to see again that it was a surprise and a pleasure to find a place I wished to return to. It gave me hope, because I knew I would not come back alone. I wanted to come here again with someone I loved and say ‘Look’.”
Visit Skye once and the chances are you will also fall under her spell!