Rounding McArthur's head we were sheltered from the northerly winds as we entered the broad sweep of Proaig Bay.
Shadows of clouds chased one another across the empty landscape of the east coast of Islay.
In the distance we cot sight of the abandoned cottages of Proaig.
We made landfall on this delightful little spit of land.
The main cottage and its byre have recently been re-roofed and the cottage is open. It is a very spacious bothy but the pigeons can get in and everything is covered in their shit. The bed has been covered with a polythene sheet but we were not enticed to stay.
At the back of the bothy these ancient cottage walls still stand against the elements. Their empty and roofless rooms are filled only with nettles and fleeting memories of their past.