The Old Man of Huy's key travels: June-July 2025 Arran, Skye, Western Isles (Part 7 -- Raasay)

Day 7 -- Wednesday, the 2nd July

Early start today. We have one of my favourite breakfasts of the trip: the hosts worked with our times rather than impose theirs (not as generalised a hospitality trait as one might expect) and the food itself is finger-licking good.

My Full Scottish

JS's Scrambled Eggs and Smoked Salmon

adc's Scrambled Eggs and Smoked Salmon

We get croissants to boot

We check out smoothly and speed towards Sconser.

We are fifth in the queue for the ferry, which shortly appears on the horizon. In no time, we are on board. The vessel is not even full, in fact.

View from the pier

Can't take anymore

We leave the Red Cuilin behind

A quiet crossing takes us to Raasay.

...where this is our first sight

We drive towards Oskaig. I quickly realise it is wrong, based on memories from 2010. Ahem. We ask a lady walking her dog, and we are, indeed, going in the wrong direction. On this tiny road on which the smallest wrong move will send a vehicle into the sea at the bottom of the cliff, it is not stupidly easy to course-correct, but we manage unscathed. We also miss the Pictish stone both ways. Or did we see it in the greenery? Bah! Soon enough, we are in Inverarish and, after another wrong turn, proceed north towards Glame. Not to Glame, mind! We stop about halfway, in the car park, by the sign that reads Dun Caan / Dun Cana.

The hike from Inverarish and back is roughly 16km, which is risky, considering we have plans for this afternoon and no desire to rush. So we set off from the car park in question. The sign claims 2.9km, but, as I remember it from 2010, it is definitely not a forty-five minute stroll. Anyway, the weather is good, though it is set to change this afternoon. We are up for it, including adc, who was not well enough to reach the Quiraing yesterday. Off we go!

This bucket-like shape appears over the hill

Once we reach the loch where we left dom666 in 2010, JS and I cannot remember where the path continues. I initially go south, but quickly realise that leads nowhere nearer the hill.

A group of kids catch up to us and overtake us. Two disappear down a steep decline. I suddenly remember that is the way. adc becomes hesitant (did I say 'steep'?), but lets herself be convinced and helped down. More kids join the first two and they congregate by the lower loch. An adult appears too: a teacher from a school in Portree on a day trip to Raasay. He shouts to tell the youth to stay put until everyone has caught up.

Teacher: "The great thing is they react to both English and Gaelic."
tOMoH: "They probably react to the tone more than to what you said."

The lower loch in question

Beyond this plaque be dragons

From the lower loch, the way to the summit is firmly up. There are a few mildly-challenging passages, but, mostly, it is accessible. We spot a few birds and rabbits.

The first loch and the steep descent to the lower loch

At the top, the views are as spectacular as I remembered them, despite clouds stubbornly gathering on many fronts, some obviously pouring down. I am a little less impressed than fifteen years ago, perhaps: much time has passed, many experiences were had. I am nit-picking, really. It is awe-inducing.

The Cuilin seen from Dun Caan

Devil's is proud of reaching the top...

...and asks for a reward

A well-deserved dram of 163.1 6yo 2018/2024 Smokin'! (58.1%, SMWS Society Cask, 1st Fill ex-Bourbon Barrel, 240b)

All the kids are there, but they are well behaved enough to not bother us at all. As adc goes towards the concrete signpost that marks the top for pictures, another teacher engages her, "I'm very sorry: we know you come here for the solitude and quiet, and we bring you a school of children..."

Even though they are no bother, it is considerate of him.

When the school kids leaves, another hiker reaches the top. I saw him in the valley mere minutes ago, coming from another side; it is clearly a hardcore hiker. He sees us taking pictures and offers to take one of us three.

tOMoH: "You're not going to run away with the camera, are you?"

He chuckles politely, takes a snap, then another, hops from one rock to another like an ibex, then hands us the camera back. I am amazed he did not go crashing down and break his neck.

tOMoH: "Thanks. Where are you from?"
Him: "From the US. Unfortunately."
JS: "Where in the US?"

It turns out he is from the same town as JS. Under adc's and my incredulous eyes, they then share memories of neighbourhoods they lived and went to school in. It feels not a little surreal.

He works for a company that explores the great outdoors of Scotland with small, dedicated groups. Raasay is on their programme for next year, and he is doing some reconnaissance. As it starts to rain a little, he puts his raincoat on, bids goodbye, folds his walking stick, and disappears. Seconds later, he has reached a distance that will take us fifteen minutes to cover. Quite the encounter!

The walk back is quicker. I dread the climb up to the first loch, since it was so steep on the way down, but there is a second path that is much softer. adc negotiates it more easily too.

She then cheekily insists on a picture of her sitting
by the loch where dom666 gave up :-)

We reach the automobile with enough time to push further north. Brochel Castle, here we come!

Cue map-reading scene in American films

The road is as remote as the northern half of Jura. Brochel Castle is a ruin that is too dangerous to come too close to, and is therefore fenced off. The weather is sunny again, which makes the place ridiculously picturesque.

A little further yet is the start of Calum's Road, a single-track road famously and single-handedly built by a local crofter to connect his hamlet to the rest of the island when the council stopped its own effort some three kilometres short. That road, by the way, took Calum ten years to complete.

The separation is clear between the Council-maintained road and Calum's

This must be a local trend

We are now running out of time to go to the end of the road (blame Boyz II Men), but even the beginning of said road reminds me of the one to Barnhill Estate on Jura.

Southbound, we encounter more traffic than on the way up. Timing is important, here, as the effects of crowding are amplified. It is acceptable all the same, all waves and smiles. Different world from neighbouring Skye. At some point, a cyclist stops to let me pass, only for his partner to appear, and I have to brake hard to let her pass before she completely loses her balance. A simple misunderstanding that makes me feel daft. Anyway. We are soon back in Inverarish. Funny how quickly one goes when mouton-rised! :-)

We reach the distillery with almost an hour to spare. Time we use to grab a bite.

Soup of the Day (Tomato and Basil)

Brownie, Flapjack, Muffin

Read our distillery visit here.

After the warehouse tasting, we check in at Allt Arais where the hostess seems a little abrupt and less flexible than they were in Portree. "You're in for just one night? It's hardly worth coming at all!"

Hostess: "Breakfast at 8:30. Scottish breakfast okay?"
tOMoH [who had counted on the 8:25 ferry back to Skye]: "Yes. Can we say... 8 o'clock, though?"
Hostess: "[Grumble-grumble] 8:00... Alright."
[Thirty minutes later]
Hostess: "For breakfast... 8:30 okay?"
tOMoH: "Alright, then."

Pick your battles and all. We freshen up (I planned to shave here, so I can say, "Je me suis rasé â Raasay"), then cover the short distance to Raasay House, where we have a reservation. The park is teeming with rabbits.

Great food. The desserts are alright. The selection is repetitive, though: it is the same three desserts as everywhere else. That is not too inventive.

Courgette Fritti (me)

Hand Dived Sconser Scallops (JS)

Pan Fried Hake (adc)

Scottish Beer Battered Haddock (JS)

Lamb Rack (me)
tOMoH: "Where is your lamb from?"
Waitress [after checking in the kitchen]: "Not totally sure who produced it, but it's from Skye, across the Sound [of Raasay]."
tOMoH: "Right. I was only trying to find out if it is from New Zealand..."