07.16.2013 - 07.16.2013
Armadale coastline, Isle of Skye
The weather's getting cool, so I bought a much-needed wool hat.
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All night I will be dreaming of bread, for a whole bakery lies by my head. It tempts me with its delicious smells into a hunger I do not feel. Still, the wind scrapes the moor outside and makes me ill-inclined to brush my teeth again.
We have left the others and are perched in one corner of the Isle of Skye. As we were riding the bus to Sligachan, Chris remarked that it looked as though we had landed ourselves at the end of the world. Indeed the place had a bleak sort of beauty about it.
Time to curl into my sleeping bag and escape the wind-whipped chill. Can you believe it's nearly 11 pm, and I'm still writing by natural light?