The next morning I was off to the nearby island of Harris, which proved a disaster as it was a Sunday. I was told there were two buses running to the ferry, but then neither of them showed up. It turned out they didn't run until July, which was very helpful as it was currently May.
I had started talking to a french couple at the bus stop that were also attempting to get to Harris, so we thought we could try all hitchhiking together to the ferry, but there were almost no cars about so this proved unfruitful.
We then hurried back to the information desk, and they informed us there was another bus which would make it just in time for the one ferry running that day, so off we went!
The nice french couple who didn't really talk much and I couldn't work out if they wanted me to go away or not then bought me beers on the ferry, so I decided they probably thought I was alright.
They were winging it even more than me and had no hostel booked, so I suggested they tried mine which I had booked in advance, it was called the Backpackers Stop, and had good reviews. This proved successful, the hostel owner was nice enough though extremely stressed about everything (I think she may have been in the wrong profession if new bookings make you panic) however free breakfast of eggs from her hens, butter, bread, cereal and milk was lovely. The town of Tarbert where the ferry dropped us was rather cute too, though small enough to walk through in five minutes.
Feeling rather stressed from the running around and panicking, I was exhausted so decided to stay the rest of the evening at the hostel and start bright and early in the morning. I looked at the bus timetable before bed, to find it was genuinely the most confusing and horrible thing I have ever looked at (even the hostel owner didn't understand it) but I finally worked out a bus to take - there was only about one a day actually running - and it turned out the french couple were taking the same (no surprises there as it seemed to be the only bus actually running on a Monday, as we had failed to ring up three days before and book a bus to run.... funny that). All the shops were closed, but luckily there was a free box of food left from previous tourists, so I was able to snag a box of instant noodles which were rather gross, but hey, food is food!
The next morning we took the bus to as close as we could to Luskentyre beach, and then walked an hour the rest of the way alongside the french couple (who's name I have quite honestly forgotten, and forgot an hour after meeting them. oops.) The walk was very pleasant and quiet, it was a brisk day but the sun was shining, so I couldn't ask for more.
After all the trials to get there, the beach was absolutely worth it. White sand, pale blue water, it looked like a pacific island, only the temperature of the water was not reflective of this sadly!!
It was icy cold and at times started to rain, so I was well wrapped up in a bright yellow lighthouse style anorak.
Realizing there was no way to make it back in time for the only bus back to the hostel that day, we tried our hand at hitchhiking yet again. Luckily this time a camper van containing a friendly elderly french couple picked us up and took us back to the bus stop so we made it in time! The bus was actually a great experience in itself, as it took us past some amazing scenery! We stopped off at a tiny port town with nothing but a pier and a fish and chip van, (we were starving by this point) and had hot chips and calamari while we waited for the next bus to come along. The next one was a mini bus, and had a CD of Scottish music playing! It was all very enjoyable.
It was late afternoon by the time we all arrived back, and the french couple quickly disappeared so I decided to go on a hike through the hills and have an adventure.
The scenery was stunning, and I had it all to myself without another person in sight. My only company were confused looking sheep, and abandoned houses.
I arrived back from my hike about six, exhausted from yet another day of adventures.
The couple had made way too much spaghetti bolognese, so they offered me some for dinner, which saved me from eating more instant pot noodles happily! We shared a nice chat, a truly terrible bottle of cheap red wine, and they gave me their email, should I ever find myself in the Antibes. Overall a successful day! I headed off to bed, knowing my ferry was the next morning back to Skye.
My two hour ferry experience the next day was interesting to say the least, as I ended up sitting next to a home-schooled kid who must have been about 15 from Harris, who had extremely long hair, and proceeded to talk to me the whole way about his katana, dry-stone walling, and his extra tooth. I was only mildly traumatized.
Arriving back in Portree was rather nice, coming back to somewhere familiar. I popped to the supermarket to grab some food and a bottle of wine (because that's the best way to make friends in hostels I have discovered). I met some nice German girls in my dorm, and it turns out one of them was going to New Zealand the next February for a vet placement, in -of all places - Orewa! Basically where I grew up! I was very excited and gave her many suggestions of things to do. I met up with them in the living room at dinner, as well as with Ollie who was still there, so we all ended up playing a game of good-natured Trivial Pursuit over wine. I won and was only slightly smug.
The next day I headed down to Edinburgh, and onto my house-sit in Sheffield.
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