Governed by logistical details, bordering on paranoia, I still manage to have fun; and more often than not, things work out in the end anyway. Case in point: the weather. Basically all my posts leading up to the trip have had to do with securing waterproof pants, given the schizophrenic North Atlantic weather. Sure enough, the weather forecasts (and even the lead news items) these past few days: flooding, £millions in damage, and rampant chaos, but never you mind! On the weather radar, while the whole of Wales and the south of England lie beneath 10 feet of water, with rains unseen since Old Testament times, we’ve had nothing but sun in Barra for the past few days. The talking head just reported swans being washed away in a town called Flushing. You couldn’t make this stuff up.