Life at the end of the road

July 22, 2017

Three times is enough :-(

Filed under: boats, daily doings — Tags: , , , , — lifeattheendoftheroad @ 6:28 am

Well, it’s been a pure peach of a week, or at least the bits I remember. That’s the trouble here on the West Coast where the weather is often wet and windy, two good days in a row and you forget at about the two weeks of gales and rain. Or worse still the humid calm, damp midge infested morning and evenings that are so common in July and August. Truth is this summer seems to have been relatively ‘midge free’ and apart from a grim June has been ‘peachy so far.

The last couple of days have been cracking, though yesterday didn’t get off the best of starts,

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the Storr in sharp contrast to Wednesday was covered in mist, there was no sign of Harris or Lewis to the north west and Holm Island didn’t look very inviting.

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A young velvet covered stag was wandering around at Glam and the Raasay Distillery was looking very quiet. Mind you it wasn’t much after 6:00am as I was heading down early to use the free CalMac internet. My recent correspondences with Applenet, the Arnish ISP proving very disappointing, with no prospect of broadband this month by the sound of it. To say it’s inconvenient is something of an understatement and probably explains in a small part why I’m so crabbit at the moment. Well it’s either that or the Tramadol again, I’ve been taking that for three days, which doesn’t help.

Anyway, the day improved vastly,


assisted no doubt by the scrambled egg and hot smoked salmon on toast.


The small shower that preceded the sunshine making a lovely rainbow at Sconser.

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The Eda Frandsen and Donna Marie both ‘earning their crust’ in the Raasay Narrows, Eda at the boat chartering and Donna at the clams.

Once the morning shower had dried off it was back to the painting with me old shipmate Finlay.


The rest of the day being spent marshalling cars on a busy deck, or just plain dodging them if the truth be known. So, by the time I got home after 20:00, having been away a good 14 hours and more I was pure whacked. By 20:30 I was in my PJs with my ‘feet up in front of the fire’, OK, we don’t actually have a fire but you get the gist. In short, I am ‘tired and shagged out after a long squawk’ as they say. An hour later, two thirds the way through a pish film that I’m actually quite enjoying the ‘wee dug’ starts barking her head off. This she does at deer, cats, rabbits, pigs and people, though by 21:30 I’m not thinking it will be the latter.

A sign is the only answer and don’t read on if you’re easily offended

How wrong was I, it turned out to be a Spanish couple  who had driven off the Torran path. I was feckin’ raging and gave them both barrels, It’s a friggin footpath not a road, are you stupid? OK, it may seem a little harsh but this will be the third time in less than twelve months that I’ve dragged some clown back up this path.

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And it’s not just the three halfwits that I’ve pulled out, my mate John William, AKA Bradain pulled a camper van out of here earlier this year, a big one!!!! Not only that but that barmpot female wrecked the track in her abortive efforts to extricate herself.

The latest pair of clowns in the obligatory ‘17 plate’ hire car had actually managed to get further than all the eejits I’ve ever rescued bar BT, yes BT even got a tractor bogged down here. No wonder this muppet and the others got stuck. So I arrived there to the smell of burning clutch, hitched up my winch and pulled him out. I didn’t have the heart to charge him despite being severely pi55ed off at them, the car was damaged, the clutch burnt and I guessed they’d be paying dearly for the dents on the hire car. The ‘end of the road’, Raasay and that crabbit crofter will be etched in their memory forever, methinks they’ll no be so stupid again.

However, that’s it, I’m sick of these clowns, between the three here and the three at Brochel this last year I’ll be taking ‘money up front’ from now on Smile


Needs a bit of work and punctuation but you get the gist Smile

Twenty eight years I’ve lived here at the ‘end of the road’ and in twenty six of them all I’ve rescued has been one tractor and about a couple of dozen kayakers. Sure there have been a few people who cycled up here then gave up, one or two that got lost on the way to the bothy and the odd broken down car but you expect that.  It’s just the last couple of years that has seen this explosion of numpties that are unable to drive or walk and leave their sh1te in black bags at the side of the road for ‘The Bin Bag Fairy’. Having said that, the ‘Bin Bag Fairy’ worshippers have been conspicuous by their absence so far this year, though it is ‘early days’. The only carp I’ve found so far this year is the remains of several ‘Happy Meals’. I mean ‘what the feck’ is that all about? some Neanderthals who prefer sugar and E numbers to real food have bought a large bag of ‘Big Mac’s’ etc and carried them 100 miles from the nearest ‘Golden Arches’ to consume and dump them at the end of Calum’s Road. I mean, if you drove the car like you stole it all the way from Inverness or Fort William to Sconser,  then just happened to drive straight on a ferry, then drive straight up to the ‘end of the road’. If you did all that and then ate your happy meal straight away then it would be at least four hours old. Jeez, I thought I had a strong stomach. Of course the ignorant bar stewards could have consumed them anywhere on the 210 mile trip, driven past a gazillion bins and chose to dump them at Arnish as some kind of offering to the ‘Bin Bag Fairy’ but I doubt it.


This morning I had a ‘lie in’ until 6:00am before heading down the road 25 minutes later,


the sun was blazing and Dun Caan was busy soaking it up on her eastern slopes.

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A golden eagle flew across directly in front of the Land Rover at Glam before landing nearby to gaze over to Portree.


That’s it on the right.


Acta Marine’s Sara Maatje VIII just leaving the berth at 7:00AM

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and back again 12 hours later with Ferguson’s Harvest Anne.


  1. Hi Paul
    So you get the same problems up there as down here in Royston. We get idjits with 17 plates who think they own the road. We’ve got a 24 hour American embassy about 6 miles from us and the amount of rubbish on the side of the road is amazing. When we was travelling around Italy at the beginning of the noughties with Shearings coaches we passed one in Rome and that’s what the coach driver called them American embassy’s and it’s stuck ever since.

    Comment by Stan — July 22, 2017 @ 7:15 am

    • Hi Stan, when we travelled around Liguria and Tuscany in the noughties we never saw a single ‘American Embasy’ or any other fast food outlet for that matter. I guess that’s why the call it a Medeterranean diet 🙂

      Comment by lifeattheendoftheroad — July 22, 2017 @ 11:54 am

  2. You can’t believe how stupid people have become! I think you’ll need a few of those signs strategically placed and written in two foot high capitals. I’ve been coming to Raasay for over 30 years and it’s only in the last year or so I’ve witnessed these idiots. My favourite walk of all time is Torran to Fladda and it’s now becoming crowded and hazardous! Perhaps some kind of barrier to prevent people actually driving and wrecking the track, would be feasible?
    It’s good to see you back blogging again and I hope you don’t get too many eejits at the door – maybe you need that sign printed out in several languages!
    Cheers, Carolyn

    Comment by Carolyn Scott — July 22, 2017 @ 9:47 am

    • Hi Carolyn,

      I’m going to put a huge rock in the middle of the track with the digger next week but I need to leave enough room to get the quad and trailer by it. I also do occaisionally need to get the Land Rover by to recover the eejits that will still ignore both 🙂

      Comment by lifeattheendoftheroad — July 22, 2017 @ 11:57 am

  3. Hi Paul

    Maybe a sign is needed indicating that the track is not suitable for any sort of vehicle – though in my experience people don’t read signs. Back in the day, before the old birch wood was cut back and the track improved improvident drivers would have been in a much worse position with all those uneven rocks, particularly before you and the LR were there to pull them out. Mind you, as Carolyn says, that sort of madness didn’t seem to happen then.

    And I have a 17 plate but you wouldn’t know it since I have my own former Ross-shire registration to hide the age of my LR!



    Comment by Sue — July 22, 2017 @ 10:58 am

    • The ’17 plates’ I’m talking about are the ones with a little green or black sticker by the fuel cap indicating they’re a hire car. Quite different from one’s with ‘I love Raasay’ stickers in the back window 🙂 Know what you mean about signs though, despite a clear sticker saying ‘unleaded only’ on the flap of a recent ’17 plate’ the numpty driving it still managed to put some diesel in it before arriving on the ferry. Doing this requires a real determination cos diesel nozzles are larger than the hole in a petrol filler neck. To put petrol in a diesel is forgivable, to put diesel in a petrol is virtually impossible so this clown really, really was trying hard. Needless to say we had to push him off the ferry and a breakdown truck collected it the day after. You just couldn’t make it up really 🙂

      Comment by lifeattheendoftheroad — July 22, 2017 @ 12:07 pm

  4. so thats what i have to look forward to in my old age, shouting at everyone and everything :-). I’m teasing, I’m already on the way and i just turned 40. I also don’t blame you. They were probably taking direction from a sat nav, verbatim.

    Comment by veloce77 — July 23, 2017 @ 9:15 am

  5. When all cars have become electrical in 10 years or so the wrong kind of fuel problem will have evaporated 😉 . BTW Remember to put up that text in all the most common EU languages Paul 🙂 . Alternatively use a picture showing the worst possible outcome for car and occupants….. The sign that frightens me most is that of a car going over the edge and falling down into the river/canal.

    Comment by Leonard — July 23, 2017 @ 2:17 pm

  6. I wonder if these people are all chasing the elusive perfect “wild” campsite. Last time I was home in Scotland I was saddened by the mess left behind absolutely everywhere by wild campers.

    Comment by Elster — July 26, 2017 @ 10:03 am

  7. The last time we were noodling around Skye the GPS indicated a smallish track and I stopped to ask The Navigator whether it was a road or someone’s private driveway. It turned out to be a road and we had a lovely pint at the Stein Inn.

    Comment by drgeo111 — July 28, 2017 @ 10:32 pm

    • Come to think of it, we just returned from the mountains of North Carolina where the windy one track roads scared us too. Soon enough we were back home, going 75 mph down our familiar one lane roads. Perhaps most new paths seem daunting at first.

      Comment by drgeo111 — July 28, 2017 @ 10:36 pm

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