Picture this....

Tis a dark, miserable, wet night. The moon in the sky is smothered by dark grey rain clouds. The empty road meanders between the seashore and the statuesque rugged mountains. A family of three consisting of a dad, a Mum and a little girl aged nine stumble down the long desolate road in the dark. There are no street lights. The little girl is terrified, only the bleating of the blurry woolly blobs dotted about on the mountainside pacify her. She is not all alone. Her parents are silent. She has heard the expression 'you could cut the air with a knife'. She surmises this is one of those times.

The family all trudge along, drenched by the continuous rain, with varying sized and weighted rucksacks on their backs. Similar to the three bears, the father had the largest and heaviest. A bright orange one that was easy to see and hard to miss. The mother had a slightly smaller one in size and weight. It was navy blue and yellow. The little girl had the smallest rucksack. It was still the length of her back. Hers was filled with the days' requirements - food, drinks, maps, emergency clothing, etc. It was quite heavy on her back, especially when she was tired. Hers, of course was turquoise. Her favourite colour forever.

This was a daunting, formidable, even foreboding landscape they had been placed in. The little girl was walking at the front of the single file. She would be the first to encounter any oncoming cars as they walked on that side of the road. That was scary too. Although, there was no traffic and the road had few bends. There was an eery stillness. Then she heard it. A sheep in distress. She could not deal with any animal being in distress. It upset her even more than children in distress and that was really bad. This sheep must have been knocked down and it was lying half in and half out of a stream, bleating mercilessly as it's breath waned away. Her mother told her not to look but there was nothing blocking the sight of it. Her mother checked the road and moved her to the other side but she could still hear the distress. She cried. It was awful to hear and yet not be able to help.

The family, back on the 'safe' side of the road facing oncoming traffic continued their trudge. The rucksacks had never felt so heavy. Their waterproof clothing had never felt so wet as it clung to their skin. The road was never-ending, the little girl thought they would have to walk forever and yet not arrive anywhere. The going was slow. She was quite a frail child so this was a stressful task for her mentally and physically.

You are wondering how, where and why they were in this situation. The father used to accumulate his month long holidays into a three month holiday every four years or so. His family lived in the U.K. So the family would travel there to take this longer holiday. This was in the pre-internet days. Therefore all travel had to be planned with transport timetables and paper maps. This experience was one of the few times, the father had got the travel itinerary wrong. He had not given enough time for ferry and bus journeys. They had arrived on the ferry to Skye in the evening. That had not been the plan but rather than adjust his itinerary as his wife requested, he rigidly stuck to it and it did not work out. They had taken a long bumpy bus ride to a place where they would need to get a boat across to a smaller island that housed a youth hostel. That was to be their accommodation for the night.

Unfortunately when the bus dropped them off, it was very late. There was a busy loud pub alongside the boat slipway. As the family walked down the road, they saw the boat and boatman rowing across to the island with a few people on board. The father entered the pub alone as children were not permitted in pubs at that time. He came out a few minutes later to explain that was the final boat across for the evening. The next one would be at eight o'clock in the morning. There was no room at the pub. So the family would have to make their own way back to the nearest town. There was a slightly better chance of finding somewhere to stay there.

It had been a very long bumpy, travel sick inducing bus ride so the little girl knew it was going to be a very long walk. Her parents told her they would hitch hike if any cars came past. They had done that before on this holiday so she knew that could be helpful. But there were no cars, the road was still and silent.

After a very long hour and a half of walking, they heard a noise. They turned around as one to search the road behind them. There, in the far distance were the headlights of a car! Oh, the relief was palpable. But this was not a time to get your hopes up. The driver may just zoom past them. The car neared. It was a small Citroen CV. There were two young men in the car. The family all stuck out their thumbs. Desperation had struck. The car went past the family. Their hearts collectively sunk. But wait, it has stopped! It reversed. The young men were incredulous, wondering why this family were walking down this road in the middle of the night.

They offered the family a lift. Mother and father squashed on the back seat with all the rucksacks and the Frenchmen's paraphernalia. The little girl was to sit on the passenger's lap in the front. But she was in a state of trauma. The last thing she needed was to be sitting on a strange young man's lap even though he did have smiley, kind eyes and she could see her mother. Her mother told her she would be fine. She was not happy but she was grateful not to be trudging any longer. She sat still with an unease. The young man tried to engage her in a a game of I-spy in his broken English. He realised she was fearful.

They made it to the next town after a very long drive. Next problem was to find a place to stay. The father entered another noisy, lively pub while the little girl and her mother stood outside again. This time, shivering with their teeth chattering. After, what seemed like ages, the father came outside with another man. He said this man had offered them a place to stay. They were taken into a living room of a local house and gently asked to wait. They heard the man talking to a woman. She came in to say 'hello' and took their sodden outer clothing to hang up on the drying rack. She gave them hot tea and toast to warm their insides. A few minutes later, the couple beckoned the family to a room down the hall. It was their bedroom. The couple had chosen to sleep in the caravan in their back garden so this family could feel comfortable and safe in their home.

The family had a blissful night's sleep in a huge warm, comfy bed and on awakening were invited into the dining room. The little girl felt well rested and calm but on entering this room, her stomach turned upside down and inside out. The walls were full of nightmarish objects. There seemed to be hundreds of these faces looking at her. She had never seen anything like it before. She wanted to be sick. They were heads, heads of foxes! She asked her mother if they were real. Her mother once again told her not to look. That was difficult, fox heads covered the walls. The man proudly stated he was the island's fox hunter. The little girl had heard about people hunting animals and she had thought that was a despicable thing to do. Here was this lovely kind man who had given her family refuge and yet he had carried out such an horrific act time and time again. Her breakfast did not go down too well.

Once clean, dry and warm the family said their grateful thanks and walked out of a home the little girl never wanted to enter again. In fact she was not too sure about this island named Skye. The whole experience had been harsh and overwhelming for her.

One day, in the distant future she hoped to return to this place and hopefully reframe her ideas of the island by having a nice time.

Forty eight years passed before she returned to Skye. This time, with her husband. They spent a week exploring the island. It is a beautiful place with wide open skies and huge open spaces, high mountains and special places. And the people are friendly and kind. She did not spot any foxes but she made peace with the island's sheep.