On the 26th July 2010, my Mum, little brother and I packed our car with overnight stuff, 2 cats and our dog and left Buckinghamshire permanently. We headed north, breaking our journey overnight in Dumbarton, and arrived on the Isle of Skye on the 27th.
We knew the island as well as any tourists could hope to, but we quickly found that island life is not entirely the way Visit Scotland or films and TV portray it. For one thing, no one tells the tourists that jobs are not only scarce, but incredibly competitive and, for the most part, wildly underpaid and underappreciated. That however, hasn’t stopped me falling in love with Skye more and more with every passing year.
In typical Scottish fashion, the people here are friendlier than you could imagine, willing to do anything for anyone, and we’ve fit in better than we expected. So much so in fact, that people always forget we’re English, which has led to a few awkward situations where they’ll make a joke about the English and then remember where you’re from and grimace apologetically. Not that I mind. The truth is, I don’t feel English, or like an outsider, and I definitely do feel like maybe I was born in the wrong country. Scotland is my home, and Skye is my address.
There’s not much more I can actually write about why I love Skye so much; it’s a bubble that we all live in, and some want to escape from, while others, like me, were looking for a bubble just like it. And of course, there’s the world-famous scenery, and the real history of the place. And the best way to illustrate what makes Skye so special is through the landscape of it, so here’s a little gallery of photos, mostly iPhone ones that I’ve snapped on days out or just when I’ve noticed the beauty of it all over again.