A Hike on the Isle of Skye

Many years ago I went for a hike with some friends on the Isle of Skye. We spent the first day getting up a ridge and walking the length of it with the ocean in sight on both sides of us. On the second day we hiked back down to sea level and made our way to a little outstation where my friends had promised me I would be able to take a shower. They had warned me that it was coin-operated and would only run for a minute or two, but after two days of sweaty exercise and a night sleeping rough, it sounded wonderful.

So I stripped down and went inside and fed a couple of 50-pence pieces into the slot. What my friends told me later was that the shower had been built to clean sheep for shearing, but that was later. What I discovered when the water came on was that (a) it was freezing cold, (b) it was as strong as a firehose, and (c) it wasn’t actually a shower. The water came shooting up from what I thought was the drain hard enough to lift me off my feet and got me really, really clean in places that hadn’t previously had that kind of attention.

I haven’t seen any of those friends in more than twenty years. I wonder sometimes if that shower is still there, and if so, whether visitors still make the sound I made when the water comes on.

Time to make another cup of tea. If you came in peace, be welcome.