I could tell you that we continue to have foul weather foisted upon us; that we have been smitten with volumes of hail balls, but I won’t.
In a brave moment when there was sweet sunshine (note, I say, a moment) I attempted to peg washing on the line. I froze, the wind gusted, I gave in ever so quickly and rushed back indoors. Two minutes later the sky darkened and… the rest is history.
We did go out for a run in the car, just to get a change of scenery. Sea foam was abundant, a small ship was bouncing around in the bay,barely to be seen at times. Fellas dressed in dry-suits were playing with sand yachts on the beach. (We saw them changing out of their suits when we made our return journey some time later. It was icy cold and there was this guy with a bare chest and a towel wrapped round his waist. Brrr).
I had forgotten that at destination, there was a really good coffee and home made scone to be had. It is so long since we visited. No reason to go there really. In warmer and calmer periods there are sea tours, one or two souvenir shops, some artisans workshops, and a tourist information office with the public W.C.’s adjacent.
There is a small passenger ferry that visits the islands, it holds a pleasure boat licence – always a bone of contention for me, as it does not negotiate a canal or dinky little river. Because of this license, craft safety requirements are allowed to be at at a minimum. The ferry is in dry dock once the season is over. It is as if the seafaring licensees believe that the weather switches itself on and off at particular times of year. They do not seem to consider the sea has hefty tides and even though it is far North, it seems they believe the underlying water temperature might be survivable, even though it is likely to be very cold. And these local maritime conditions seem to be conveniently dealt with by a dictum to avoid sailing in bad weather.