We found a rather random picnic table, at Port Gobhlaig, which enjoyed views of the north. Yes, as the photo shows, it was a grey day, but coming to the west coast is a gamble on weather. As far as we were concerned there was no rain and that was to the good. There wasn’t much wind either, and that, too, was good. Actually, although I say we were on the west coast, actually, Port Gobhlaig faces northeast.
A rather battered concrete slipway led down to a small beach. The boats had found alternative uses. They were water containers, beloved by the local midges who found them a fantastic breeding site.
A strange bird flew over. Was it a heron?
I rather think it was an arctic skua – one of those piratical birds that harries gulls who eventually get rid of their stomach contents (what a polite way of putting ‘puke up’) so that they can fly faster. The skua then feasts on the outcome!
Our skua seems to have hit unfavourable territory for itself. There weren’t other birds about to chase.
But all looked calm and pleasant.
Or perhaps one might say that every prospect pleases and only man is vile!
Highland sheep – apparently complete with antlers!
We now started to head south, back towards Uig down the west side of our peninsula.
