Does my bum look big in this? The furthest north I've ever swum.
The early clouds soon cleared for another gloriously sunny day, lighter winds and warmer than yesterday. We retraced our journey up the east coast but the scenery was so absorbing that we were happy to do it again. We continued to Tarbert for a long break, taking in lunch, shopping and a café. Then we toiled up the pass in the early afternoon heat.
At the junction for Reinigeadal the hostel warden happened to be on his way home and offered to take our bags, making the six miles up and over the hills a lot easier.
Reinigeadal is an idyllic spot, only connected by road since 1989. Before then, it was the most remote community in Britain, accessible only by sea or by a three and a half mile hilly hike to Tarbert. The schoolchildren had to undertake this in all weathers, as did the postman, who called alternate days. His round involved 13 miles of walking but he must have enjoyed it as he didn't retire until he was 71.
It was such a lovely evening that we walked a short distance along the path to Tarbert and refreshed ourselves with a swim in the loch. It's actually a sea loch, and south of the border would be simply regarded as a bay. Yet it felt more like a loch, we had to step onto barnacle encrusted rocks to get to the water. On our return, we found that a party of eight cyclists had arrived late at the tiny 11 bed hostel so it was overcapacity, overcrowded, and some of them had to sleep on spare mattresses.