Hiking Across the Isle of Skye, Scotland | A 155km Journey and Encounters on the Skye Trail

Takuya Sakoda
3 days ago
19 min read

The "Skye Trail," which traverses the Isle of Skye in Scotland, is a trekking route of roughly 150km. There aren't any real mountains to speak of, so even people new to long-distance hiking can take it on. I've written up my experience of the Skye Trail, which was my first ever cross-island hike. Thanks to the warmth of the people of Skye, I was able to soak up the island's incredible nature to the fullest.

1. About the Isle of Skye

Located in the northwest of Scotland, the Isle of Skye is a popular spot with travelers, drawing visitors in with sweeping natural landscapes you'd struggle to find anywhere else. It's also known as the setting for the Pixar film Brave .

Although it's a popular tourist destination, most visitors get around by car — which means once you're out on the trail, you'll have the wilderness all to yourself, guaranteed.

2. What Is the Skye Trail?

The Skye Trail isn't an official trail, so there are no maintained paths or trail markers. A map is therefore essential, and you make your way by following the footsteps left by other hikers. Some people, like us, start from the southern town of Broadford and finish at Rubha Hunish, a stunning viewpoint at the northernmost tip of the island. Others walk it in reverse, heading from north to south.

The bothy (mountain shelter) at Rubha Hunish.

We chose the south-to-north route, both to take advantage of the prevailing wind direction and to save the most spectacular scenery for the grand finale.

3. The Weather on the Isle of Skye

The name "Skye" is said to come from "Sky" (cloud) and "ye" (island) — literally, "Island of Clouds." It lives up to the name, and no matter when you visit, you have to be ready to get rained on. Even on dry days, the trail itself is unmaintained, so your shoes are guaranteed to end up soaking wet.

Wearing waterproof shoes is one approach, but I don't believe a truly 100% waterproof shoe exists. I found it more practical to wear shoes that dry quickly and breathe well, accept that my feet were going to get muddy and wet, and just let them dry out as I walked. Skye is windy a lot of the time, so things dried off pretty fast. Early on I was tiptoeing around puddles, but partway through I gave up and just walked straight through them — it's faster that way.

The weather also shifted so dramatically that over those six days I felt like I'd cycled through every kind of weather there is — sun, rain, snow, ice, and even a full-on gale. I'd recommend packing to handle anything.

4. Food on the Skye Trail

There are very few supermarkets on the Isle of Skye, so planning your food in advance is a must. Sizeable supermarkets are pretty much limited to Broadford and Portree. That said, some towns do have cafés and restaurants, and on a few nights we ended up eating dinner out. The currency is the British pound, and prices felt a little steep.

5. Getting to the Isle of Skye

We flew into Edinburgh Airport and spent the first night there. From there we took the train to Inverness, and then a bus on to Broadford (with one bus transfer along the way). On the way back, we took a bus from the trail's end down to Broadford, and then another bus all the way to Edinburgh. We booked the outbound leg in advance — train fares in particular looked like they could swing quite a bit depending on whether you booked ahead, so I'd recommend reserving. On the return leg we didn't book, but we had no trouble picking up tickets.

DAY 0: Broadford

We were due to arrive by bus at 5pm in Broadford, the starting point of the Skye Trail. The plan was to stock up on food at the supermarket, walk a short way, and camp for the night — hence calling this "Day 0."

Travel never goes entirely to plan. We were rolling along on the bus to Broadford when suddenly there was a loud "BANG!" The driver carried on as if nothing had happened, but soon the bus pulled over well before our stop. There was no PA system on board, so we couldn't quite catch what the driver said, but it seemed we'd had a blowout. We ended up waiting one to two hours for another bus to come pick us up. I was very glad we'd built some buffer into our schedule. There happened to be a pizza place right there, so we used the downtime for an early dinner. The unexpected upside of the breakdown was that we got to chat with the other passengers — a small but lovely bonus.

We finally arrived in Broadford. Glancing at the map, I could see that on Day 1 we'd be passing through a few towns, so I assumed there would be more supermarkets along the way and didn't worry about it. As a result, all I bought in Broadford was that night's dinner and the next morning's breakfast. This turned out to be a big mistake — the next supermarket wasn't until Portree, which we wouldn't reach until Day 4. With our food stowed and the trailhead found, we were finally on our way along the Skye Trail! The starting point had absolutely no signs or markers. Scotland sits at a high latitude, and even in April the days were long — the sun set late enough that we could keep walking until around 9:30pm. After about 5km we found a good-looking spot, pitched the tent early, and called it a night.

Camping in Scotland: What to Know

Pitching your tent somewhere outside an official campsite — in a forest, beside a loch, that sort of thing — is known as "wild camping." Thanks to a law introduced in 2003, you can essentially wild-camp pretty much anywhere in Scotland. Private land is obviously off-limits, but beyond that, setting up your tent outside designated campsites is legally fine. The one thing you absolutely cannot do is start a fire. I get the appeal of a campfire out in nature, but Scotland's terrain is highly prone to wildfires, so it's a firm no. Don't disturb the locals, take all your rubbish home with you — stick to those basic principles and you'll have an incredible adventure in Scotland.

Other European countries where wild camping is permitted include Sweden, Norway, Ireland, Estonia, Latvia, and Spain.

DAY 1: Broadford to Elgol - 35km

I woke to a dazzling sunrise. The sheep that had been milling around our tent the night before were nowhere to be seen — they must have wandered off somewhere. We packed up the tent and properly set out on the Skye Trail. We hadn't walked far before the sea came into view.

We walked along with the vast sea on one side, on a path that didn't have too many steep ups and downs. Skye is a rainy island, so even on sunny days the trail was dotted with puddles. It was still only day one and my shoes were dry, so I picked my way carefully around them. Then I lost my footing and — splash! — stepped straight into a puddle. Muddy water seeped into my shoe and it felt horrible. Strangely, though, as I kept walking the discomfort began to fade, and I slipped into a "well, they're already wet, who cares" mindset and started ploughing straight through the puddles instead of dodging them. Once that switch flipped, my pace naturally picked up.

It was day one so our steps felt light — but even lighter were those of a runner who came up behind us, bounding along the trail as nimbly as a mountain goat. We crossed paths with a few of them in fact. Some were running with their dogs, no water bottles, no snacks, nothing. I let my imagination wander: if you live on Skye, maybe this is just your everyday running route.

I was starting to get hungry, but a glance at the map told me the next town wasn't far. There'd surely be somewhere to grab a bite, I figured. That assumption was wishful thinking. When a name shows up on a map, you tend to subconsciously expect the place to have at least the basics — a shop, a restaurant. That logic doesn't apply on Skye. There were genuinely only a handful of houses — or, well, buildings. I couldn't help thinking, "This counts as a town?"

Seeing what the towns along the way were actually like, I started to worry — we might genuinely run out of food, this could be bad. After passing through a few of these sleepy villages, we arrived in a place called Torrin. And there it was: a sign reading "Cafe." Yes! My pace quickened. What we'd stumbled upon was a charming little café called Amy's Place.

The café is run by a cheerful older couple, with sandwiches, scones, and soup on the menu. When you think of Skye, you think of seafood — I went for the fish soup, and a hot bowl of soup partway through a hike is just the best. They didn't serve alcohol, but I was craving something cold. That's when I spotted Scotland's iconic fizzy drink: Irn-Bru.

Scotland's national drink: Irn-Bru.

It's an orange fizzy drink in a striking orange can. People say things like "Scotland is the only country where Coca-Cola isn't the top-selling soft drink" — that's how beloved Irn-Bru is here. It was created in Scotland in 1901 and is apparently so hard to come by that even in London — also part of the UK — it's tricky to find. I had the sugar-free version: really refreshing, no lingering aftertaste, and delicious.

After resting up at the café with a full belly, and not knowing when we'd see another supermarket, I went ahead and bought two sandwiches to take with me — just in case. This trip taught me that I, the kind of person you could charitably call a "minimalist" or less charitably a "cheapskate," am simply incapable of stocking up on food in any meaningful quantity.

As we left the café, I noticed a stone dangling from the café's sign. To my amazement, it turned out to be an ingenious little invention: a weather-forecasting stone.

Leaving the café behind, we kept on along the coastline. One of the lovely things about a coastal trail is that you can see, across the water, the path you've already walked. Looking out and thinking, "oh, I started over there this morning" gives you a real sense of accomplishment. Since I hadn't properly stocked up at the supermarket back in Broadford, I was anxious about whether I'd have enough food for the night. With those worries on my mind, we arrived at the quiet little village of Elgol — our Day 1 destination.

We walked on, hoping there'd be a restaurant or café somewhere. A few local boys were riding bikes around the village. "Is there a restaurant nearby?" we asked, and they pointed us in the right direction. It turned out to be a very stylish little place called "The Bistro." The food was, of course, delicious, and I had my first ever pint of Skye Ale, the island's local beer.

After a long day of hiking, it tasted incredible. Once we'd finished our delicious dinner, we walked a short way out of Elgol village, pitched the tent, and turned in for the night.

DAY 2: In Search of a Bothy - 30km

We carried on along the coastline. It had been raining like a shower since the morning. A hiker came toward us from the other direction — someone who had clearly started the Skye Trail from the opposite end. "Where did you stay last night?" I asked. "A bothy," he replied.

What's a Bothy?

A "bothy" is a small hut tucked away in the Scottish wilderness where anyone can stay free of charge. There aren't any beds, but hikers can roll out their sleeping bags and bed down for the night. Most are built from stone or brick, which makes them perfect for riding out cold nights in the wild. Plenty of hikers use them. The size varies, but the larger ones can apparently sleep around ten people at a time. Since we'd come all the way to Scotland, we'd been hoping to try staying in a bothy, but along the Skye Trail we only came across two of them — though we may simply have walked past others without realizing.

One of the iconic features of the Skye Trail is a little white bothy at the very northern tip of the island.

This bothy has several rooms, with white wooden interior walls — very stylish. There were even playing cards and books inside, left behind, presumably, by hikers who had walked the Skye Trail before us.

We peeked inside the lone bothy along the coast — the one we figured the hiker we'd crossed paths with had stayed in — and found a few hikers taking shelter inside. From here, the trail leaves the coast and starts to thread its way between the mountains.

From here, the next 20km or so of trail has no towns, no roads, nothing. All we had for food was a single burger each. I was a little uneasy. And on top of that, we had no idea when we'd next come across any more food. On this particular day, the rain didn't let up. The wind wasn't bad, so we pulled out our ponchos and just kept walking.

One sight that really stuck with me was a hill shaped just like the Sorting Hat from Harry Potter. We walked past it off to one side, and it looked like a really rewarding climb. There were several smaller peaks like this along the route, and next time I'd love to actually climb a few of them too.

Hunger pangs hit a few times, but I got through them with the classic "fill yourself up with water" strategy. I was so glad I had a water-filter bottle.

Eventually we made it through this wild stretch of trail and arrived at a place called Sligachan. There was a car park and a hotel, and right there — out of nowhere — a small miracle: a craft beer bar. The very stylish Cuillin Brewery serves up craft beers made with Skye's beautiful water. We were less in the mood for beer and more in the mood for FOOD, but it turned out the kitchen had just closed. I asked the waiter on the off-chance, and — perhaps touched that we were hiking the Skye Trail — they kindly whipped up some soup for us as a special exception. After being soaked by the rain, that hot soup was a godsend. And then the two of us worked our way through about six different kinds of cake. Plus some excellent beer, of course! With our stomachs satisfyingly full of beer and cake, we set off hiking again. From here, the trail again sticks to the coast.

Fueled by beer and cake, we kept moving forward despite the rain. Checking the map, I noticed there was a bothy symbol marked right near our planned stopping point for the day. Yes — maybe tonight we'd get to sleep in a bothy! With that hope buoying me up, I pushed on.

We finally reached the village shown on the map. Walking around looking for the spot labeled "Bothy," all we found was a perfectly ordinary house. As we paced about in confusion, a tall, broad-shouldered man came out. "You alright?" he asked. When I explained that the map showed a bothy here, so we were looking for it, he gave a wry smile and set us straight. Apparently the label on the map referred to his own house.

I was just feeling disappointed when the man spoke up: "If you'd like, you can stay here."

At first I didn't follow. Thinking he meant something like an Airbnb, I asked, "How much?" He looked at me, baffled. No — that wasn't it at all. He had another house nearby that wasn't being used, he said, and if we wanted, we could spend the night there.

Scottish Hospitality

The Scottish man checked with his wife, who gave the OK without hesitation. When he showed us inside, I was stunned. It was a stunning home with two or three bedrooms, paintings collected by his father-in-law hanging on the walls. "Your shoes must be soaked — feel free to use the washing machine," he told us. "And don't even talk about sleeping on the floor — use this bed," he insisted, even letting us sleep in proper beds.

He told us about a Scottish concept called "Scottish hospitality" — a deeply rooted culture of welcoming travelers warmly. The next morning, when we went to return the key, he asked, as casually as if nothing had happened, "I'm heading to the next town for work — want a ride?" We declined, since we were doing the hike, and went our separate ways — but he really was like a fairy guardian of the Skye Trail. All our drenched clothes had been washed, we'd been able to shower, we'd slept like logs in a soft bed, and woke up to a clear, refreshing morning.

DAY 3: A Sunny Morning and a Toilet-Block Night - 30km

We set off toward Portree under a blue sky that made yesterday's rain feel like it had never happened. As we walked, my partner got hit by some bird droppings on the trousers. We crouched down to clean it off, and at that moment an elderly woman came out of a nearby house — early in the morning, no less. "Are you alright?" she asked, worried about the two people huddled on the ground outside her house. We had a good laugh together over the bird-poo incident and went on our way. Every single person we met on Skye was genuinely warm.

Portree: Skye's "Capital"

Today's destination was Portree, the biggest town on the Isle of Skye. For Skye Trail hikers, it's the only resupply point with a proper supermarket along the route (the other being Broadford, the starting point). It's a photogenic fishing town, with colorful pink, yellow, and pale-green houses lined up along the harbor. After all our food struggles up to this point, we let out an actual cheer the moment we spotted the supermarket.

First up: lunch at a pub. In a fishing town, it has to be fish and chips. We tucked into a plate made with the day's catch, washing it down with Skye Ale, the local craft beer. At the supermarket, we stocked up on snacks we wouldn't normally buy — over a 155km hike, sometimes you really do need sugar. We asked the Scottish shop assistant for recommendations and got a long list back. Fully restocked, we left Portree behind.

Heavy Winds on the Cliffs

Once we left Portree, the character of the trail changed completely. We went from coastline walking to traversing the vast, open grasslands on top of the hills. The wind was bearable at first, but as we climbed higher, it grew absurdly strong. Our route hugged the very edge of the cliffs, and gusts came through fierce enough to feel like they could lift us off. Glancing back, I could see my partner bracing hard against it. The wind was so loud our voices wouldn't carry, so we just kept giving each other thumbs-up to check on each other as we pressed on.

The one saving grace was that the wind was at our backs.

The Skye Trail can be walked either south to north or north to south. The reason we'd chosen south-to-north was that a blog I'd read beforehand had said, "It's better in this direction because of the wind." I'd half-believed it at the time, but I never imagined I'd come to appreciate the advice quite so viscerally. Even at 73kg, I was nearly being blown off my feet — but with the wind pushing from behind, I was able to walk one step at a time, almost as if it were carrying me forward. The mother sheep and her lamb grazing serenely on the cliff edge looked oddly reassuring.

A Night in a Toilet Block

By the time we crossed the wind-blasted hills and dropped down into an area with a car park, it was getting on toward evening. My body was nearing its limit. As we searched for somewhere to pitch the tent, I spotted a building marked on the map just past the woods. Maybe a café, I thought hopefully. We made our way over — only to discover it was a public toilet block for campervan travelers. Men's, women's, accessible, and a baby changing room. We opened the door of the baby changing room: spacious, and surprisingly clean. The two of us exchanged a look. "There might be cameras," we hesitated at first, but outside it was a hurricane and our bodies were finished. "We've just got to do it" was the conclusion. We locked the door, rolled out our sleeping pads, and unzipped our sleeping bags. Strangely enough, with my eye mask on, I slept soundly. Not a single knock came at the door all night. That said — kids, don't try this.

The night before, we'd slept in a stranger's plush bed. The very next night, we slept in a toilet. You really never know what's going to happen on a journey.

DAY 4: The Toughest Stretch - 28km

The morning we woke up in the toilet block, it was raining again. We shook it off, packed up our things, and set off walking. This day's leg was the most demanding part of the entire Skye Trail — the section with the most climbing.

The Old Man of Storr

Our first target was the rock formation that defines Skye: the Old Man of Storr. A stone pillar that narrows at the base and shoots skyward. Its silhouette stands out even from a distance, and it's the kind of view that's bound to come up the moment you search "Scotland" online.

Beyond the Storr, the trail runs along a treeless cliff edge with relentless ups and downs. Checking AllTrails, the elevation profile shows about eleven repetitions of climb-and-descend. We pushed on along the clifftops in rain and fog, unable to see what was ahead.

There are no signposts on the Skye Trail. All you can do is follow the footprints of hikers who came before you, looking for stretches of grass that have been ever-so-slightly trampled down.

At one point, just as we were on the verge of losing the trail, someone came walking toward us from the opposite direction — a soaked British man who reminded me of Marvel's Doctor Strange. "How are you finding the way?" I asked. "You just follow the trampled grass," he said. "There are a few other hikers ahead of you, too." I'm not normally a fan of crowded trails, but in this isolated environment, simply knowing there were other people out there was a huge relief. We wished each other good luck and went our separate ways.

The empty ridgeline

Not even a sheep in sight, not a single tall tree. The wind howled across a ridgeline that stretched as far as the eye could see, and the two of us walked it entirely alone. There's a scene toward the end of the film The Secret Life of Walter Mitty where the protagonist sets off toward Everest. It felt just like that landscape — walking on through a vast, silent space, as though we were the only people left in the world. As we kept moving, the weather slowly began to clear.

The rain comes quickly here, and so does the change in the light. The forecast had called for rain all day, so when the sun broke through, my spirits lifted instantly. After several more rounds of climbing and descending, we made it through the toughest section in one piece. That night, we pitched our tent on the shore of a small loch we'd stumbled upon along the way, and slept.

DAY 5: The Finale - 27km

The next morning, checking the map to see what was left, it looked like at our pace we'd reach the finish ahead of schedule. The final day brought good weather, too. It meant doubling back a little before heading on toward the end, but we found a tiny shop that looked like it was run single-handedly by an older woman, and picked up some beer and food. With the sun out, we sat outside to eat and drink, and then set off toward the final stretch.

The Finish: The Bothy at Rubha Hunish

A white hut perched on a clifftop at the very northern tip of Skye. This is the iconic endpoint of the Skye Trail — the bothy at Rubha Hunish, regarded as one of the most beautiful bothies in all of Scotland. White wooden walls that, in photos alone, could almost pass for a café. Inside, you'll find card games and books left behind by hikers who've passed through over the years. The view from the window — out across the island's northernmost coastline, seen after 150km on foot — was beautiful in a way I can't put into words.

We would have loved to stay the night in the bothy, but there were already others inside, so we walked on a few more kilometers and set up our tent. We happened to catch the sunset, and it was the most perfect way imaginable to round off our 155km journey.

In Closing

155km, six days and five nights. A bus blowout, food shortages, a storm, a night in a stranger's home, a night in a public toilet block, ticks. And, more than making up for all of it, the warmth of the Scottish people, breathtaking nature, and great craft beer. The Skye Trail isn't a maintained route. It has no signposts. And precisely because of that, this trip turned into something unforgettable. Choosing it as my first ever cross-island hike was, in hindsight, the best call I could have made.

On Injuries and Troubles

Hiking can look glamorous from the outside, but I want to leave an honest record of what went on behind the scenes too.

Blisters: I got big blisters on both feet. The skin had started to peel, but to prevent infection I deliberately left it on, taped over the area, and kept walking. Every night I cleaned them carefully with wet wipes. They didn't get any worse — if anything, my skin felt like it had toughened up by the end.

Knee Pain (a touch of Osgood-Schlatter): I have a mild case of Osgood-Schlatter from playing basketball through middle and high school. Long downhill stretches brought the pain on. In one of the towns along the way I picked up some Tiger Balm and kept applying it. It's that classic muscle-ache cream from Singapore, with the signature cool, tingly sensation the moment it goes on. It might just have been in my head, but my knee never got any worse from there.

Ticks: One thing you cannot avoid hiking in Scotland is ticks. I'd read about them on blogs beforehand, but sure enough, I ended up with one. My partner found one too.

A few things to keep in mind when you find a tick: If you put ointment on it or touch it gingerly, the tick can panic and either burrow deeper into the skin or release toxins into your body. The standard approach is to grab its head firmly with your fingernails or a pair of tweezers and pull it out in one decisive motion. You also want to check the sweaty spots — armpits, behind the knees, behind the ears. If any redness sticks around, definitely see a doctor.

*The above is based purely on my own experience and is not medical advice.

Gear and App

GPS App「AllTrails」：

Absolutely indispensable for completing this trail. The paid version lets you replay your route in 3D, and it's fun to revisit later and figure out things like "Hmm, where was I when I caught a glimpse of that mountain?"

Lightweight Gear:

From a water flask that filters water from lochs and streams and folds down small enough to fit in a pocket when not in use, all the way through to a lightweight tent — the gear that genuinely saved me out in Skye's wilderness is covered in detail in the blog post linked below, so please check that one for the full breakdown.

For anyone out there hoping to tackle the Skye Trail one day — I'd be thrilled if any of this proved useful, even just a little.