I haven’t used a launderette for decades, so it was with some trepidation and a bag full of coins that we sallied forth to the Community Facilities at Kyle of Lochalsh to do our washing like the ex hippy teenagers that we are.
With no water in the caravan and having been on the road for ten days we’d both completely run out of clean clothes.
I’m amazed we lasted this long, to be honest. We used to do a clothes washing almost every day in London.
But that was in our old life. We’ve learned to embrace the muddier and scruffier side of being now.
The side benefit of this was a trip to the hot showers at the same place, designed for visiting yachtspeople, with plenty of space to hang wet outer clothes whilst getting clean.
And it would have been rude not to make a wee visit across the harbour carpark to Hector’s Bothy for lunch whilst the clothes were tumble drying.
We sat in a booth overlooking the sound, blinking in bright November sunshine and enjoying the sensation of being clean again, and ate our butties.
Today was a good day.
Ravencroft Skye 