48.7

Having slept for a few hours in the back of my car, I awoke just prior to sunrise and then headed on around to the river outflow at the Kyle of Tongue. It was nearly high tide and the salt flats were partially consumed leaving tiny complex inlets and coves entirely sheltered from any wind. The mirror like surface proved to be perfect for reflecting the impressive peaks of Ben Loyal, but it was the astonishing clarity of first light, the colour of honey that played across the grassy islands that amazed me it was like looking at a colossal water hazard on the worlds most exotic golf course.