On a far northern shore of the Isle of Lewis the locals built a snowman – the size of a house. They saved it from melting over the summer months by topping it up with ice from their domestic freezers.

When I heard that JG was driving RG to the top of the island to secretly dispose of his (stolen?) orange military bags, I asked if we could tag along. We would enjoy a ride out in the car, and combine this with a visit to the snowman.

The timing of our trip was such that from the coast road we also witnessed the progress of a magnificent Viking long ship sailing out into the wide Atlantic.