Stornoway in the Frame

Our transition from the heart of the city to the far reaches of the British Isles went seamlessly yesterday.
Without having to shuffle along endless airport security queues, take off belts, shoes and scanner unfriendly jewellery and still have to get a pat down from some female who trained as a warden an a maximum security jail, we arrived in Stornoway, fresh as daisies, having had a lovely dinner thanks to a smooth crossing of the Minch.

Today we collected some bus timetables before walking in the Lews Castle grounds, doing some sketching of the castle and taking photographs of Stornoway from the other side of the harbour.

When our fingers got stiff and cold in the very brisk west wind, the wind chill must make if less than the advertised 13 degrees, we made for the cultured haven of An Lanntair art centre to warm up with coffee and a scone.

This evening on the recommendation of Peter May we are dining in a restaurant bearing the unlikely Hebridean name of Digby Chick. I will report back.