The forecast is for rain to come in the early afternoon.
I head towards Reef beach. Driving on the island has presented me with a difficult choice. On the one hand, the roads are frequently single-track, and demand caution when going round blind corners. On the other, the surfaces are very good, and the roads wind, weave and bend up hills and through valleys, which – in a small car which holds the road well – makes it great fun to open the throttle and let rip.
Taking the second approach this morning, I fly round a blind corner and slam on the anchors upon suddenly finding myself in a three-car traffic jam. A couple of workmen are repairing a pothole in one of the passing places, and while neither of them thumps a staff on the ground and screams “You shall not pass!” … they might as well have. And so we wait, and watch.
On my way to Reef I stumble across Cliff beach, where the waves look epic, and may have only recently become so, as there are a number of surfers suddenly suiting up and running across the sand towards the surf.
I agonise over going in (for a swim). I reckon the rain’s not far away, and so decide against it. I drive on to Reef beach, which is also beautiful, and calmer. The clouds arrive shortly, and put an end to my swim plans.
I circle round the peninsula via Reef village, and back to Uig, coming across the very same workmen fixing another pothole.
Ordering a toastie in the Uig Community Cafe, I look up to see that nothing whatsoever can be seen through the windows. The weather has officially closed in.
I write some postcards (postcards, I am delighted to discover, are alive and well on the Isle of Lewis), and visit the local museum, learning a lot about the area’s Norse history, the Highland Clearances, and the Lewis Chessmen.
It’s a thunderously windy night, and the Pod creaks and groans. I am convinced the whole thing will lift off the ground at any moment and deposit me in a nearby loch. This doesn’t happen, and I eventually get to sleep around 5am.