It appeared a perfect Sunday morning. On the Gairloch Beach families relaxed under a clear blue sky, kiddies burying their parents in the spotless golden sand before picking up their mobiles to claim on the insurance policies. The tide was well out and happy doggies paddled in the gently lapping waves.
But all was not as perfect as it first seemed. In one deserted corner a tiny cloud of sand appeared and began to swirl and spin, growing bigger and bigger as it moved purposefully across the beach. Stunned picnickers peered anxiously into the approaching sandstorm when, from somewhere deep in the spinning vortex, two black demonic shapes lunged straight towards them…
…The Fatdogs had arrived.
The Fatdogs thundered across the pristine sand and into the sea. Murph is a far more adventurous animal and swims like a seal leaving Maisie, a far more refined and delicate creature, to paddle in the shallows.
Here are The Fatdogs in their element…scrounging!
A couple of days later we drove from Poolewe down to Redpoint, to visit another stunner of a beach, this one separated from the dead end single track road by giant sand dunes. Again the sun shone on the righteous and we basked once more in blazing sunshine. Maybe basking was a bit optimistic as the temperature had dropped a good few degrees since the weekend. To the east the Torridons were a bit hazy.
The beaches were the unmistakeable highlight of our first few days in the north-west when skies were blue and the temperatures reached past the minimum “sit outside” level. Subsequent days were drier but cloudier and cooler but still able to produce enjoyable days out.
I’ll leave you with another photo from Gairloch Beach – it’s difficult not to sigh and imagine being back there.