I recently spent a week on the Isle of Skye, which after a year in which I’d been virtually nowhere but moved house twice was something of a novelty, and a nice way to relax and get away from the routine.
I’d woken up ridiculously early and after an initial three hour drive was already skirting Glasgow by 9am, looking forward to a second breakfast by Loch Lomond shore. It was fortuitous actually – I just missed the congestion the big motorway signs warned would accompany the climax of the COP26 event, with world leaders and activists alike having taken to gridlocking the city in their cars as they deliberated over how to persuade everyone else to go green and leave theirs at home…
Soon enough I was back on the road, passing through Glencoe and arriving in Fort William by lunchtime. The journey would be broken here in acknowledgement of the fact that my legs can no longer take a long car journey, but this necessity turned out to be a pleasant enough sojourn and opportunity to catch up with the old friend I’d gone up to meet. Albeit in a hotel oddly reminiscent of a derelict oil riggers village we’d explored a decade earlier.
I’m being slightly unfair here. Slightly.
Fort William was wet, and after a dry start the following morning, so was the day after as we head off to Skye proper. Just over the big bridge that now connects the island to the mainland however it had at least dried up enough to allow for a walk round Kyleaskin for an obligatory look at some boat wrecks.
I do like a boat wreck. From here there was a bit of a rush, with the suggestion of a bit of a sunset through the rain offering the potential of some good light at Elgol Beach – coincidentally just 5 minutes’ away from the black house we’d rented for the week. I gave the house a cursory look before rushing off to indulge my photographic sensibilities…
By the time I got to the beach there were already a number of photographers dotted about so I wandered to the water’s edge and set my tripod up for some long-exposure seascape business as the light started kicking off. Oranges, pinks and purples all appeared in the fast-moving cloud that allowed the mountains beyond to fall in and out of visibility. I ended up with wellingtons full of seawater as rogue waves crashed around me but came away with some lovely shots of fiery skies before I’d even unpacked. If this kept up it was shaping up to be a good week.
The next day we went on a drive, up to the top of the island, beginning with the photogenic-in-the-right-light Old Man of Storr. After a long climb in increasingly windy conditions it came to pass that we’d missed the right light and would be buffeted by pretty strong winds in to the bargain. Later on at the Fairy Glen – another popular tourist spot – there was hardly any light at all, and given that his thread is already rich in content I’m not going to post any passable shots for the sake of it. So we’ll move on.
The drive back included a stop off at the Merchant’s in Portree for a welcome drink and a warm fire. It was very nice, and in off-season and post-covid times turned out to be one of few establishments on the Isle that would even be open this November.
Back at Loch Slapin around the area of our black house there were a number of photo opportunities, including my first proper attempt at a stitched panorama. The Cuillin range was too big to fit in to one shot, and with the fast moving cloud cascading over the tops it made for a dramatic scene. Cue some technical wizardry and the result was pretty nice:
It wouldn’t be my last pano this week. After an insanely wet hike over the hills to Camasunary beach, through saturated bog and raging rivers and via a walkers’ bothy, I took the camera out of my dry bag and took the hand-held component parts of what would be another wide shot of the mountains, from the other side. It very much captures the mood of the day!
In stiller conditions while driving out for tea at Broadford after a day of local wanderings, we pulled in to take a look at what the locals call ‘the hairy loch’. In the stillness of dusk, what the maps call Loch Cill Chriosd has an eerie feel that isn’t the easiest thing to convey in a photograph – though the motion of flying a drone over it really brings it out. For here though, a simplistic photograph of the grasses that punctuate the bulk of the water:
Next up, and on a much brighter day, were the Fairy Pools – but en-route a stop off at Sligachan to see the old bridge, and a new statue of the men that mapped the mountains. I quite like the mountaineers looking towards the ever dramatic Cuillins, though my exposure blend of the bridge lacks the extra dimension I think it needs to make it a better picture…
On to the Fairy Pools then. This was somewhere I really wanted to capture having seen so many pictures of it, but in the end I got distracted by the many falls and compositions and never quite made it to the most commonly photographed part. That said, it was an enjoyable morning and I’m pleased with some of the different compositions I did get. And the benefit of wearing wellingtons became apparent when I crossed through one of the plunge pools to walk on the other side of the ravine to the footpath.
This was a location that even in November was fairly busy with people. I’d hate to think what it would be like in peak summer, and was pleased with the relative peace and unsettled weather once again making for atmospheric shots. Here’s just a couple…
The next stop that day was the black volcanic sands of Talisker beach. A hoped-for sunset didn’t appear but the bleakness of the resulting photograph presents the scene as I remember it. It was only mid-afternoon but the light was fading, the long exposure resulting in the backwash streaking down the beach, white on black, almost monochrome. I wasn’t sure if I liked it or not but the more I looked, the more calming it felt to me…
Are you still reading? It’s been quite a long one and I’ve skimmed over a lot of the detail, but this body of work is one that I ended up being really pleased with. It’s no surprise photographers flock to Skye, and the combination of fast moving clouds, rain and sunny spells really made for some great landscape photography conditions.
I never made it to Neist Point, and the Old Man of Storr didn’t work photographically, but there was one glaring omission from the week’s work that I’d been looking for all week and never saw anywhere on the island. Google even told me they were quite often to be found right by where we were staying but I’d almost given up all hope when I packed the car and began the drive back to Fort William. And as soon as I drove off there they were, finally, a collective of highland cows standing in the road. The sun was shining and I got back out to take a few shots, one of which you can see at the top of this article.
Rush hour at Elgol.
It was all rather lovely.
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Marjorie
Andrew