When I book a flight to Foula I'm never quite sure whether I'll get there; going in November adds to the uncertainty. But, third time lucky we set off. I only hoped I'd get back too!
It was a breezy day and the forecast was for it to kick up lots on the evening. I just hoped the wind didn't get here early.
Gaada stack at the north of the island as we swung around for the landing approach.
We landed in a squally shower, but thankfully it wasn't a sign of things to come. It was bright, breezy and quiet. With full waterproofs on to keep the wind off I set off on my round.
Some one has been doing a lot of work around this property and it's very nice, if not a tad on the compact size!
The burn at Ham with the ferry hoisted out in the harbour in the background.
And Ham Brig with a nice stone seat.
I was heading to the south end of the island. It's a wonderfully dramatic place.
At just about 11am on the 11th of November I was at the war memorial. Not a soul in sight.
Da Noup and Da Sneug as a dramatic backdrop to this old mill.
And I was heading up Da Noup. My first ascent of the mighty 248m (814ft) lump. It looks more imposing than it should and with the wind now building and me walking up in the acceleration zone it felt more like the climb up something much bigger!
Over the top I found a little shelter from the wind to enjoy a view of Mucklebrick's Wick and Da Sneug. One day I hope to go down Da Sneck I Da Smallie and then along the cliff base ascending to Waster Hoevda for a camp there.
Looking back to Da Noup from Da Daal.
I didn't go down Da Sneck. I didn't have time and it was running with water and slippy moss. I could see where a big block had slipped down in to the chasm giving a narrow gap to bravely walk under it on your way out to the coast. One for a summer trip.
Days are short as December approaches and the return flight leaves at 15.20, so I headed back towards the airfield down Da Daal. Looking back down Da Daal which runs between Da Noup (left) and Da Sneug (right).
Me and two other guys from the council who were waiting for the return flight got a little panicky. The wind was pretty high by the time the plane was due and the plane was late. Scanning the sky and straining our ears we wondered where we'd stay and how we'd eat if stranded. Eventually we heard the plane engine and then saw the growing image of our return flight. It was a little bumpy on the return flight, but all was fine.
A grand day dear Foula, but I'll not be back until next year.