Continuing the theme of burned out caravans, our next wildcamp was on the seafront by the main town (well, bunch of houses and a pub) on Eriskay. And indeed it was wild. The wind was quite ferocious, and everyone else braving the site was in a camper van. Up above the beach was a huge pile of nails and some burnt grass, and down on the rocks by the sea were huge rusty bits of engine and suspension. Is it possible that Luke had been here before us? We cheated that night and ate in the pub - it would be the last pub we'd see for days, so it seemed rude not to.
During the night the wind reached epic proportions, and by the next day, setting up our tents outside Howmore SYHA on South Uist was a bit like trying to nail a hot air balloon to the ground. Still, we managed, and with the wind whipping round the tents, we manage to rustle up a hearty meal without resorting to the kitchen.
Next day it was off to camp in the dunes on Berneray, this time with a million earwigs, many of which are still turning up in strange places around the house - like the fridge. With the weather deteriorating, after a bike ride and two days camping on Berneray, we retreated to a four star hotel with a sauna, and went home the next day. We stopped off in Glen Coe on the way back, and woke up the next morning to the most glorious day Glen Coe has ever seen - really. So we climbed Stob Coire Raineach before reluctantly heading back down south to Yorkshire.