We had a swell time on Cara.

 We awoke to find an otter fishing in the bay where...

 ...we had camped for the night. After breakfast we broke camp and loaded the kayaks under a leaden sky. As we packed we were sorry to be leaving Cara after a most enjoyable two days.

There was not a breath of wind as we paddled south along the east coast of Cara and bid our farewell to The Brownie who was no doubt observing our departure from his attic window in Cara House..

 We were bound for the Mull of Cara.

 Previous passages round the Mull have been rather lively affairs but...

 ...it was slack water and all was...

 ...calm apart from...

 ...the swell which...

 ...we met...

 ...as we rounded Cara's southerly point.

The glory of a Hebridean sunset.

 The sun was setting fast so we made our way along the beach...

 ...and over a bluebell covered hillside...

 ...to photograph the sunset over the Sound of Jura.

 The sun slowly sank into the Sound of Islay which separates

 Jura to the north and....

 Islay to the south.

We lingered long after sundown savouring the Southern Hebridean twilight until the Paps of Jura merged into the inky blackness of the night sky.

Baked potatoes at sundown on Cara.

On our return journey to Cara the sun was dipping to the north west and...

 ...the light took on a lovely warm tinge. The wind dropped which meant the midges...

 ...came out in droves. Mike kindly offered Phil some of his Avon Skin so Soft.

 We waited for the fire to produce some nice embers then put potatoes in tinfoil into their heart.

Wile the potatoes were baking, Phil went along to the other end of the beach to take photos of the sunset but...

 ...he soon came running back when he heard the...

 ...baked potatoes were ready. A little butter and salt produced a marvellous snack.

As we enjoyed our evening meal the various pebbles in the sand at our feet took on a rosy hue in the light from the setting sun....