We arrived in Fair Isle after a lovely fast sail down from the Shetlands.
It is a tiny, very beautiful island with steep cliffs, a few sheep and a population of 70. All of them knitting flat out. Bruce was seasick but has recovered fully and is striding out over the hills with paunch, cameras and a lovely soft evening light.
We’re dining at the bird observatory here, with keen people of all sizes with gumboots, binoculars round their necks and notebooks. They were not amused when I reported on my Heimay meal of pan-fried puffin with gravy.