I left my guts in the Atlantic

 

On our way from Iona and Staffa to Stornoway, something I’d eaten didn’t agree with me. The suspects were three huge king prawns which I bravely decapitated before eating.

The impact of digesting those overgrown crustaceans was immediate and devastating ( I won’t go into details). Suffice to say that the first day of June saw me unwilling and unable to get out of bed at 6:30 am to prepare for a coach excursion to some of the Isle of Lewis’s famous relics.

I cancelled my trip  being unable to guarantee that I wouldn’t be caught short with nowhere to go on the coach.

With curtains drawn I slowly emerged and had recovered sufficiently to have a cup of coffee and toast and marmalade. All my energy was gone as I gingerly walked down the gangplank onto Stornoway’s harbour to check out the town.

As this was 8:30 in the morning the town was closed. I have to say it looked rundown to me and my walk was perfunctory as I didn’t want to be too far from a lavatory.

I spent the rest of the morning on board, dozing whilst trying to watch “Prometheus” for the umpteenth time.

As I look out of my cabin window, I see some of my fellow cruisers returning from the excursion into town or the coach trip around Lewis Isle. I will have a few mouthfuls at lunch time and sit on deck as we leave Stornoway and  head for Loch Ewe and another garden visit – which I rashly cancelled this morning as well.

In the afternoon I had recovered sufficiently that I was able to join the trip to the gardens...and we set sail for Oban, and Glencoe.