I came to Skye over the bridge and I hitch out getting a ride on the ferry. I get picked up a kilometer or so before the port and me and the driver haven’t had much time to connect yet, so during the crossing we go our own ways. But when he takes me to Fort William I get to know him a bit. He’s a social worker and a very convinced Scottish nationalist who rails against all that is English.
My next ride is given by two photographers who often stop and wait for the clouds to touch the mountaintop while the sunlight hits at just the right angle. I don’t particularly mind the delays though. I’m in no hurry and they’re nice guys. Plus I really need some picture taking tips, though they emphasize the main trick is patience.
My final ride is given by a young Irish guy who grew up in a few different countries, which is not too dissimilar from my own background and it’s always interesting to share past experiences. He drops me off at the house of the guy who was initially supposed to let me stay in Stirling. Turns out he was in the mountains, and I can’t fault him for that. He also hitchhiked through South East Asia and has done a bunch of other interesting things, though he says he doesn’t hitchhike in the UK: the waiting times are too long.