Sail Bonnie Boat...

We are going to fly swiftly now, perhaps on the wings of the red kite I saw from a hilltop, high above the Royal Burgh of Dingwall, and look down, as we pass, on the beautiful Glen Affic with its lush greenery and the lovely Dog Falls. Then the dark and mysterious Blackmuir Woods and on to Rogie Falls where we'll hover for a moment to watch the salmon jumping before sweeping away down the stunning west coast of Scotland with its towering peaks and beautiful lochs and views of the coastline.

Having bid farewell to the kindly folks at Lodge Barn in Fodderty, we finally alight in Mallaig a tiny fishing village on the coast best known as a stepping off point for the Isle of Skye. That isle is my destination on the morrow.

My accommodation here could be described as adequate. It is, after all, a B&B and I'm used now to a whole cottage to myself.

Breakfast at the B&B is a communal affair and my hostess seats me at a table with a gentleman in his late forties perhaps. We chat about what we've been up to and I discover he's staying here for a fortnight! He can evidently afford a slightly better room, with a sea view perhaps.

I ask him what he does for a living and after a slight hesitation he tells me, in what I think is a slightly apologetic manner, that he's a Catholic priest from a big parish in London. A 'late vocation' as we say, says he. Oh, says I, endeavouring to put him at his ease, I know all about those, I'm one of the faithful don't you know! (Didn't actually mention how faithful but.) Best priest I ever knew was a 'late vocation' says I. Irish fellow by the name of Joe Dargan.

He says they have a Kenyan priest on loan in their parish because 'vocations' are a bit thin on the ground in England these days. I assure him that we're in the same pickle in Australia, and resist the urge to say that if we were to embrace a married clergy and women priests then the current problems may not exist. We are, after all, just having breakfast, not a deep and meaningful theological discussion.

I'm diverted from the possibility of moving into these potentially turbulent waters by the arrival of a young German couple. She's studying medicine (loves it, can't believe how lucky she is for the opportunity) and he has qualified as an mechanical engineer. They're very sweet. They are loving Scotland and plan to return. They've been walking in the Trossachs and around Glen Coe and are enraptured. I may check out Glen Coe (where those previously mentioned pesky MacDonalds got their comeuppance from the Campbells) on my way to Stirling tomorrow, thanks for the tip.

But it's off with me and my bike, I have a ferry to catch 'over the sea to Skye'.