We found another place to stay for one night, and drove around Skye remembering our previous holiday that we so enjoyed, but I wanted to see new places, so we decided to leave Skye and go to to the mainland, and find a nice place for a day or two, then onwards again.
It was bitterly cold, as the rain just did not let up, and after finding a place for the night in the small hotel in Portree, we sat in a cosy little bar with a big fire, too lazy to move, until the pub closed.

Sitting there without any plans, we looked up places on the map, and we both liked the idea of going to a small seaside village called, well I have now forgot the name. But we found a cottage with sheep grazing on the lawn, and it was absolutely beautiful, for me because there was such a lot to do, and when I have tHings to do, Liz can sleep all day if she so desired!
The rain had mercifully stopped for a while, and the first morning I was up and out at daybreak, with my flask and a sarmy. I walked for miles along the beach, then had my breakfast and a cuppa, and was daydreaming deliciously, when a shadow suddenly fell over me. Goodness me, it was the most charming and handsome man of about my own age, and we started talking, and as he had a zany sense of humour, we laughed and laughed, and before I knew it, it was time for me to go back.
Liz was up, but still in the first stage of her waking-up ritual, and I told her about my lovely encounter, and I had a big bally fright when her head suddenly jerked up, and looking at me with her big brown eyes spitting hatred and disgust, she hissed: 'You are a real flippin flirt, always picking up men, and I hope you enjoyed your flippin roll in the sand!' I was to say the least extremely shocked, as yes, like every normal human being I do love to flirt a bit, but what she was implying was that I was a real easy customer.
She then took one giant pull on her cigarette, her hands shaking like she had fallen in a bucket of ice, and then she slumped over the table again, and I walked out, and took the road back to the beach.
When I eventually went back, Liz was all dressed and like someone with a guilty consience, she was gushing goodwill and love all over me, but I was still too cross too relent. I knew I had to just forget about my indignation, as if I didn't, we might just as well return home, and my flight back to South Africa was only in ten days's time, so I acted affably, as if nothing had happened. That threw the poor Lizzy into a state of nervous uncertainty, and I thought to myself: Suffer, woman, suffer a bitty!
Our cottage was really nice, and as usual Liz had to watch the fire while I did the cooking, and afterwards I just made myself at home right in front of the fire, the dogs at my side.