Reflections on: Skye

Eighty kilometres of jackknives, hairpins, switchbacks, dips, and blind summits wind through the treeless glens along the Isle of Skye’s northernmost peninsula. The Trotternish Loop — a more poetic title for the serpentining sprawl of the A87 — is, despite my descriptors to the contrary, a forgiving stretch of asphalt for someone who has never driven on the left side of the road in his life.