No I don't have a clue how to pronounce it either, but this idyllic spot is Òb a' Bhràighe, a secluded little cove, just a hop a skip and a jump from our Torridon cottage.
Now as you know, I am a terrier, and so have the good sense to keep my paws on terra firma at all times.
But give a certain member of my household a warm sunny afternoon and a swimsuit and she's wading into that not-so-warm and rather salty water, and before you can say goose pimples and hypothermia she's swimming around like a ..... (er, think of something that swims with more enthusiasm than style). You don't even have to throw a stick.
So yes, our spell of most un-Scottish weather continued through the weekend, at least in Torridon. And just as I described in my previous post from Aberdeen, here too on the normally wet West Coast, one's favourite mud patches have all dried up.
And worse, last week, just a couple of miles from our cottage, a really scary wildfire raged across a large area of moorland. Gail and I went over to Diabaig to investigate the aftermath.
Thank goodness no one was hurt and the fire did not damage any houses. But gosh it was a shock to trot along the footpath and suddenly go from this...
