Many tourists had booked into the west-facing Hebridean hotel specifically to catch the amazing sunsets. There was a spectacular one predicted the next Wednesday and, on the basis of this knowledge, many people had extended their holiday on the Isle of Lewis.
Towards the end of the afternoon I was at the top of the beach and just about to change into my bikini when I noticed the early reddening of the sky. I grabbed my camera, bade a quick farewell to TPR and our holiday companions, and ran all the way down to the water’s age. The closer to the shore, the better the photograph.
Afterwards I walked all the way to Stornoway with the intention of catching a ferry to a more remote island to watch the full sunset. When I calculated that there was not time to do so, I climbed into a pick-up truck taxi at the filling station for a ride back to the hotel.
I was surprised to find TPR on the back seat of the taxi, upset that I had abandoned him earlier and annoyed that I had missed dinner at the hotel. I soon distracted him by asking him about a breaking news story about the biggest divorce settlement in history.