There is no cloud in the sky, and it is somewhat hazy, and getting worse. It has not taken much effort to get up to this summit, just moderate care and plenty of rest and fluids – and a hat. On this hot Bank Holiday weekend in May, this is no place for the bareheaded. The view is stupendous – literally and not metaphorically beyond description. It will be better still at dusk when the air clears and the light takes on the delicacy of evening. A common camera can do no justice to the view;  you would need a chopper full of IMAX camera to begin to do justice to it.

There is no single person on the mountain but myself. Today I doubt if there is a comparable mountain in all the UK of which that will be true. I know there at least half a dozen mountaineers hiking somewhere in the interior of Rum, because I saw them on the ferry yesterday, but for the moment I am alone.

I got back from my walk about 5.30p.m. Any longer and I should have been in trouble through lack of fluids – it was a very hot day. I lack the Ranulph Fiennes-like qualities needed to drive my body through damage in such circumstances (though my wife might disagree with that statement).