The singing sands on Islay

As maybe the last little entry while still away, I thought I’d share this fabulous beach, on which we were the only two people and dog.

Just west of Port Ellen, on the south coast of Islay, a short walk past the lighthouse brings you to The Singing Sands beach. I will edit this with its correct name when I can.

Crystal clear water, wonderful clean sand, rock pools. In Cornwall the place would be packed, but up here you have the place to yourself. It’s a top spot if ever there was one.


A corner turned

We have turned a corner over the last couple of days, both personally and astronomically and their coincidence got me thinking.

We passed the halfway point in our holiday up here on Islay and yesterday was the Longest Day. So we should have enjoyed daylight from around 04:20 until 22:21, with twilight taking us well past 23:00. But the rain was here last night, and with the fog in the morning (I set the alarm for 04:00 specially, honest) any opportunity to dance naked round our own private standing stone was lost. So now, it’s a headlong rush to Autumn and Winter… certainly looks like this run of poor summers for most of us here in the UK is set to continue.

And as the holiday moves into its second week, on a personal note, it will be back to the office and loved-ones at home before we know it. There will be a lot of catching up to do, despite the inclusion of the Blackberry (see earlier blog posts) meaning that I am still mostly in touch with what’s been going on, but the first couple of days back will still be a mad rush no doubt.

Sometimes I think that two weeks away from everything is actually too much, and it would be much better to have more, shorter breaks. It’s very easy to get out of the loop. I suppose that’s what holidays are for, and as I sit here now, in the sunshine, watching swallows and listening to the skylarks, I suppose this does beat working.

There’s a part of me, though, that thinks that maybe splitting a fortnight’s holiday into two separate weeks might be better for the mind and spirit in the long run.

It must be nearly Kilchoman time, so maybe a “wee dram” will help me to decide.