As I gazed out at the Atlantic Ocean, the frigid wind and rain blowing so hard against my face I could barely open my eyes, a huge smile spread across my face.
I had finally made it to the mystical Isle of Skye; a place so staggeringly beautiful its rock pinnacles and mountain ranges are said to have been formed by mythical creatures.
Wild scenery is the norm here, from striking sea cliffs to windswept valleys, glistening lochs and black sand beaches. The landscape is extreme and diverse, and it seemed almost otherworldly at times.
Relentless rolling fog and low-hanging mist created an air of mystery, and I began to understand why the island is associated with folklore, spirits, and legends. With castles and fairy pools, many parts of Skye look like a fairytale come to life; a place where you could almost imagine giants and fairies roaming about.
My visit to the Isle of Skye was a literal – and figurative – breath of fresh air. It was the first time I had been in an awe-inspiring natural setting, surrounded by raw, rugged beauty and unspoiled landscapes in a long while, and I felt an overwhelming sense of calm while I was there.
I carried the serenity and solace back with me to Edinburgh, and as the familiar facades of the city that I’ve come to love so dearly started to come into view, I realized my mind was still preoccupied with the vistas of Skye. The misty air and salty ocean breeze lingered on my damp clothes, and images of cascading waterfalls and craggy mountains danced through my head.
A week after visiting, Skye remains vividly in the back of my mind. This isle shrouded in mystery and magic still calls to me, and it’s a place I won’t soon forget.