Just as I open my tentflap in the morning it starts raining hard, so I close back up and wait an hour for the rain to stop. When it does, a rainbow appears and the sun shines.
That’s the rhythm for the morning: rain, sun, wind, rain, sun.
I ride down the valley and then westwards, over small and medium roads with changing traffic.
There are some beautiful views of the landscape and the further I come west, the more ragged the mountains become.
Ullapool, a small town with a ferry terminal, is my first stop at the Atlantic.
Beyond are some steep climbs, a very deep and narrow gorge and a beautiful campsite on the shore of Loch a’Bhraoin.
