Sebulon

By sebrose

Ardnamurchan

We catch the Shearwater from Arisaig. It’s busy, full of Eigg regulars greeting each other like long lost family. Charlie, the taxi man, gives our luggage a lift halfway to the campsite and we lug it the rest of the way by foot.

Camp is set. The shop is visited. We eat pasta for tea and drink into the small hours.

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