Last Saturday dawned clear but a bank of sea mist rolled down West Loch Tarbert and hid Ruantallain from the world. Our clothes and tents became completely saturated as the droplets of water settled on every surface. Even the midges were grounded.
It was a surreal experience rockhopping up the wild coast of Jura. The mist muffled all sounds and we paddled steadily on, isolated in our own world.
Finally the sky began to clear at the great bay of Shian where we stopped for second breakfast. The vault of the sky became blue and the sun burned down. The adventure continues...