On the northernmost summit of the Trotternish on the Isle of Skye, Scotland lies the most otherworldly, ethereal place called The Quiraing. The Trotternish Ridge was formed by a series of landslips over millennia, however the Quiraing is the only part still moving. The name comes from Old Norse Kví Rand, which means 'Round Fold'. Other great spots to visit here are The Table, The Prison and The Needle.

I love my van! I may have said this before, but waking to views of seas, mountains and beaches that can change every day is just the best. This morning however something different. Nothing, I awoke to nothing. It was still dark, very dark and I had to muster up enough energy for a big climb.

Today was Day 2 on Skye, and I had an appointment with a climb up the Quiraing to get a sunrise shot of this amazing geological wonder. A landslip that has been moving for many thousands of years slowly dropping into the sea some miles away. Huge slabs of mountain lie on their sides surrounded by small lochans and gigantic fissures big enough to put a house in. It's an unstable mass, so you have to have your wits about you and be careful. Captain sensible here has decided to climb to one of the highest points on his own, in the dark, for the first time. But first I needed to drag myself out of my van. Have I mentioned I love my van?

‘The ghostly eyes came out of the mist’

Having parked at the car park, I headed off looking for the narrow track that climbed the face of the ridge towards the Needle and the Prison. It was from here I wanted to look South down the ridge and capture the golden colours of the sunrise on the enormous rocks and cliffs.

Finding the path was easy enough at the beginning, as many tourists meander along the early flat parts and grab snaps before popping back to their tour buses. Within about 30 minutes the path became a narrow track carved into a very steep hillside, wandering in and out of the rock-strewn crevices. No mean feat in broad daylight, but I was taking this on in the dark with just a head torch. There were a few hair-raising scrambles across newly fallen rock and at one point I was on my hands and knees and I was dithering around like an idiot. Then it happened.

A light mist was clinging to the side of the ridge, wafting along in front of me catching the light from my head torch as I looked around for safe handholds. I raised my head and the ghostly eyes came out of the mist shining back at me. Then another pair of eyes and another and I stopped breathing for a moment. “Baaaah”. Bloody sheep scared the living day lights out of me!

Sheep scare over, I rounded a steep climb in the path and suddenly in the light of the blue hour I could see right out to sea and pick out the orange glow from the horizon of the imminent sunrise. I was here at The Prison, I had made it, I was alive. I felt on top of the world. Add to that the weather was absolutely amazing.

Now the scramble begins. Not that I hadn’t been scrambling around in the dark for the last hour, but scrambling to get ready for sunrise. I was on the side of The Prison (named for obvious reasons) clinging to a steep banking facing south but I just couldn’t make my mind up where to stand so ran up and down quite a few times before deciding the foreground beneath my feet was all a bit dull and distracted from the magnificent view. So I climbed as high up as I could to get the clearest viewpoint.

The blue hour was coming to an end and I could now set my focus far off in the distance, and it was just a matter of waiting whilst I tried to work out if Cnoc a'Mheirlich in front of me resembled a Cornish pastie or not. Wish I had brought breakfast.

Slowly the warm orange glow crept up the valley floor in front of me from left to right before hitting the ridge line of the Trotternish. It was just the most amazing experience sitting on my little ledge taking in the view. A bit of a breeze picked up coming down off the cliffs to my right, and given I was using this rather flimsy tripod I was forced to hold the tripod just in case a gust grabbed it and off it went down the side of the mountain. I did take a good 30 shots and here are a few favourites.

Weathered Cleat stands proud over Loch Cleat

Cleat, Bioda Buidhe and Beinn Edra in the soft light of morningCleat, Bioda Buidhe and Beinn Edra in the soft light of morning

Cleat, Bioda Buidhe and Beinn Edra in the soft light of morning

The beautiful Cnoc a'Mheirlich catching the sunrise.The beautiful Cnoc a'Mheirlich catching the sunrise.

The beautiful Cnoc a'Mheirlich catching the sunrise.

Probably one of my all-time favourite sunrises to date. It will take some beating.

Images bagged, it was time to descend, and it was a wholly different experience where I had time to take in the magnificent views, take my gloves off for a while and well just take in the moment and think about what I had just witnessed.

Heading back down I had to visit one of the most photographed trees in the northern hemisphere. You can easily walk right past this little gully away from the track. I’m pleased it isn’t too easy to find or I fear it would succumb to some of the same abuse and neglect some other well-known lone trees have had to suffer.

Can’t come this far without bagging “the tree”Can’t come this far without bagging “the tree”

Can’t come this far without bagging “the tree”

As I was descending, I passed a number of groups heading up full of excitement at their climb. Chattering away they all took the time to say ‘good morning’.

What a morning! What a climb!

I turned and grabbed a quick selfie of where I had stood for my mega sunrise at The Prison.

The Prison

Now I really need my breakfast.