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I was awoken this morning by a strange sound – the patter of rain on the tent. Not a heavy downpour but a light smattering which gave a pleasant sound on the taunt fabric of the tent.

It was certainly preferable to the wind of the first day which tested my patience to it’s level but I persevered and won the day by putting up the tent. It survived not only that night but the three nights I stayed there, not letting me down once.

I packed away the tent this morning, not bothering with the niceties of getting it in the bag provided, just in the back of the bloody car! I shut the tailgate and the rain stopped.
Aaaaaarrrrrgh!

Taking one last look at the scenery, I saw a large family tent that arrived the day before, a huge tepee style and there was a chimney throwing out smoke. Not sure what that was all about but I found it a great idea but will stop short of setting fire to driftwood in my tent.

That last, lingering look at the view, taking in the sounds and smell of the sea, it was time to go.

Getting in the car, I had my route planned, my audiobook of choice playing and set off, with a heavy heart. It’s the leaving that always gets me and today was no exception. I went for peace and quiet, space to think on my own, and I certainly found that. The healing properties of your favourite place, discovering beaches and walks, are all great for mind, body and soul, although my favourite burger that I found was probably not good for my body. Awesome for my mind and spirit though.

I planned to stop off at one point but felt good enough and powered on home without a break, just in time for dinner. The kids were happy to see me and get some chocolate I brought back for them, which was a nice change to see them happy to see me!

I look forward to a night in my comfy bed, even though it is a heatwave here, 30 degrees Celsius at it’s peak today. A sticky night ahead, I suspect but the comfy bed calls. Before anyone starts with ’30 degs C is nothing!’, it is for me, being pale blue Scottish. Pale blue to bright red by standing too near a light bulb, such is the nature of my skin.

The good news is that we are booked in again to go back to the highlands in about six weeks time and can’t wait. Neither can the kids, as that means it’s school holidays and play time for them. Oh, to be a child again….

Once again, I am reminded of the poem: My heart is in the Highlands. It certainly is and I can’t wait to go back.