Thursday 8th April
We headed north out of Broadford along the A87. The plan was to catch the 11.30 ferry, but that proved too ambitious. We took the old road (my 1″ map showed no other route) because it was much flatter than the “new” A87, which climbs to well over 400′.
The A87 is an innovation, renumbered since the Skye Bridge was opened and allowed lorries from the Western Isles simply to use Skye as a stepping stone to the mainland. The crossing from Stornoway to Ullapool is a 6-hour crossing and involves a much longer drive than the ferry to Uig and the drive across Skye. The old road now serves nothing more than a couple of salmon farms. There was a sign to Moll, 3 miles away, but we didn’t notice it as we stormed through. Indeed, I thought we were going to manage the entire 7-mile stretch of road without seeing another vehicle, but in the last mile or so were overtaken by a convoy of 8 vehicles, mostly Audis, BMWs and a Range Rover.
We missed the 11.30 ferry by a few minutes so we sat in the heated shelter provided for the use of ferry foot passengers and while we did so we ate some dried fruit and a bagel or two. Eventually the ferry arrived and we boarded, along with a couple of cars. As we approached Raasay a couple of very large birds appeared – I’m sure they were eagles – and they soared around for a while. They had disappeared by the time we were on dry land.
A rather annoying young man named Tim greeted us when we arrived at the Raasay Hotel. All smarm and training, he told us that he had only been there a week and that he had 1001 things to do. He doubled up as receptionist and bar staff and probably concierge as well, but we carried our own luggage up to the room.
Once we had settled in we explored the island, heading north to Arnish. We didn’t get that far, deciding to cut the ride short and have a relatively early dinner, after which we contemplated a stroll. We met a young couple on ancient bikes but soon after we decided to head back we met the girl again, with a deflated rear tyre. I tried, unsuccessfully, to mend the puncture. She found the hole quickly enough and we patched it but by the time we got the wheel back on the bike the tyre was going soft again. She had enough pressure to get her most of the way home, but it was irksome not to have sorted her problem out properly.
We ate in the dining room and while we were eating a couple we had met in Glenelg arrived. We started chatting and spent a pleasant evening in the company of Simon & Frances: he’s a surgeon in Edinburgh and she’s a manager, having previously been a nurse. When we had finished eating we all went for a walk around the Balfour Beattie building site, which will eventually become a large and impressive jetty.