Pill without drama, post-Brexit paperwork and a president cheating at golf. We’ll sleep next to the monument of a Russian shipwreck with more lives than a cat.
🏴 Scotland - part 2
Morning rain, a well-deserved rest, and the day ended with a ball, beach, and sunset over the Irish Sea. No mountain today, but there were views and a deluxe nap.
I climbed Ben Nevis dodging hiking poles like spears. We reached the top soaked and battered by the fog and sticks. And you know what? We didn’t like it. Not one bit.
Un paseo entre cascadas de cuento, una carrera contrarreloj hasta Ben Nevis y una cena con cuatro héroes empapados... Yo, mientras tanto, vigilando la cámper desde mi trono.
We saw seals sunbathing, were pampered by strangers and ended up at the edge of the world looking at a lighthouse with a foghorn. Who could ask for more?
We strolled among stone steps and mythical rocks in the rain; we got soaked, but we loved it. Then we saw cliffs, waterfalls... and even sheep doing yoga.
We went through the legendary Applecross Pass… and saw absolutely nothing. Then we crossed the bridge to Skye to meet up with the people from Malaga. And someone dropped their cheese rind!
We stopped in Gairloch with the intention of continuing, but the bad weather and the midges held us back... and even the people from Malaga showed up again to say hello!
Today we crossed a suspension bridge, saw a gorge and went up to a viewpoint with amazing views. All very epic... if it weren't for the fact that we did it without mud, without adventure, and from inside.
We visited a place where the stones talk, the sheep don't stray from the path, and Daddy Edu came back covered in sand. In the evening, live music... although less 'live' than expected.
We climbed a mountain with giant deer, met up again with Andalusian and Gibraltarian friends, drank until the midges... and ended the day in a secret, bug-free corner.
An epic hike to the highest waterfall in the UK, mud up to our ears, views we didn't see, and a swim with a surprise… of midges. And all to sleep in an unremarkable port, but with an estuary.