Holiday woe

This morning my wife and I were due to catch a 6.40am flight from Heathrow to Corfu.

Following a three-hour flight we would have arrived in good time for lunch at the restaurant above followed by an afternoon on the beach or by the adult only pool (below).

We were there last year and enjoyed it so much we booked a further week at the same resort.

Four weeks ago we were naively hopeful we might still be able to go. There were no reports of COVID-19 having reached Corfu and most airlines were flying as normal.

It was then reported that all Greek resorts and hotels would be closed until the end of April (at least), and a week or two later BA informed us that our flights had been cancelled.

Then came lockdown.

So instead of relaxing by the pool or on the beach, eating and drinking morning, noon and night, we shall be at home, eating and drinking (morning, noon and night).

We will re-book when things have returned to normal, whenever that is.

In the meantime I’ve been giving some thought to where else I would like to go when we are given the green light to embark on non-essential travel.

I imagine there will be huge demand for the usual sun spots, including Corfu, and as I’m not keen on crowds I think we might look closer to home.

The west coast of Scotland - and the Isle of Skye - will be high on my list.

My wife and I first visited Skye in 1991. On the recommendation of friends we stayed at Hotel Eileen Iarmain which overlooks the Sound of Sleat, the stretch of water that separates Skye from the mainland.

It’s a wonderful location, and the hotel isn’t bad either. There are 16 rooms, some in the Main House, others in the Garden House.

There is a small restaurant and, if memory serves, an even smaller bar. Log fires and candlelit dinners come as standard.

The following year we decided to invite a small group of guests to join us there for dinner after our wedding on April 3, 1992.

The wedding itself took place in Eaglesham, just south of Glasgow. Afterwards it took five hours to drive to the hotel via the Kyle of Lochalsh ferry. (The Skye Bridge, which replaced the ferry, opened three years later in October 1995.)

My father took it as a personal challenge to win the ‘race’ to get there first but the rest of us adopted a more leisurely pace. The weather was uncommonly good and everyone arrived in plenty of time for dinner.

It may seem odd, escaping government-imposed isolation only to drive to one of the more isolated parts of the country, but it will be a genuine treat getting as far away as possible knowing that at journey’s end there will be a warm welcome in wonderful surroundings.

Corfu may just have to wait.