If the dour east coast of Scotland was the working heart of Scottish industry, the west coast was the romantic, nostalgic part where time has stood still. Land of magic, fairies and love.

Darcy's aim was to get there in time for dinner at a Michelin-star restaurant for Lizzy.

Lizzy was pleased they had accomplished much that day and she only wanted to do one more thing for work, which was to see an island reliant on 100% renewable energy.

She had a lot of writing to do and she was pleased to have collected the emails of relevant Scottish counterparts if she or her boss Bob had any further questions back in Sydney.

As they drove through the Kyle of Lochalsh, they could see the beautiful Eilean Donan Castle, and soon after, the Skye bridge which would take them to arguably the most romantic island in the country.

Skye has always had a special romantic attachment to it from the Jacobites to more modern day interpretations of what it meant to be a Highlander.

She knew the reality was more depressing, of powerful lairds who valued their sheep more than their tenants. The sparse landscape they drove through was a reminder of that time.

"What are you thinking Lizzy?" Darcy asked as she looked at the landscape and the Cuilins loomed large before them.

"Of how history romanticises the tragedies of everyday people."

He wanted to reach her hand and kiss it for it was a beautiful drive. The West Coast of Scotland always invoked that in people.

"History written by the victors?"

"Victors of men and conquerors of lands."

She didn't know how to articulate it so she said what she first thought of "I had an old boss. He was a tall bloke. A cornstalk. We discussed Scotland once and he told me his ancestors were crofters from Skye who emigrated to Australia because of the Highland Clearances."

Darcy was quite relieved his connections were English and not Scottish lairds that had cleared the ancestors of modern-day Australians. That, at least he thought, she won't hold against me - perhaps against Hamish, but not me.

"So it's dissonant to see these beautiful places that are so empty but they were once teeming with people."

The two of them started discussing the villagers from the island of St. Kilda which was on the far far west coast. History would have forgotten them had it not been for the surviving villagers who landed in Melbourne after a hellish journey to the fatal shore. A suburb and famous Aussie rules team remembered their island, now depleted of human habitation, in the new world.

XXX

They arrived at the restaurant and proceeded to enjoy a meal that was relaxing to both of them. After yesterday's discordant note, today was a good day. Lizzy, as Darcy had wished, enjoyed his company. She was still preoccupied with work, but Darcy enjoyed being in her company and was content.

"There are so many islands here Darcy - it's like island-hopping." She hankered to travel again as in her gap year. Her feet were getting itchy again.

He smiled "Did you never island hop around the Whitsundays?"

She smiled back "Yes, but the Whitsundays are too pleasant and tropical."

"Ahh so you want the Sturm und Drang?"

And he started humming Mendelssohn.

"Yes," her eyes lit up, "most definitely."

XXX

They had booked accommodation attached to the restaurant and made plans to have breakfast at 6am again.

It was looking to be the last working day for Lizzy. They had accomplished much indeed.

XXX

After breakfast, Darcy drove them to the heliport so he could help Lizzy do some "island hopping" as they had talked about the night before.

They first went south to the Isle of Eigg which was reliant on 100% renewable energy. She spoke to a community representative there about their experience, thanked them and then left.

Darcy then piloted them south east towards Governor Lachlan Macquarie's island of Mull and its bright capital of Tobermory. They could also see Iona jutting next to it but Lizzy wanted to see Easdale because she wanted to see whether Hunter Valley towns could survive in their post-mining environment or would they be like Warkworth, gutted and devoid of character.

Easdale had a former quarry which, unsurprisingly, had become the destination for the world's stone skimming championship.

Once they landed, Lizzy urged him to hacer la rana with her.

Lizzy managed 7 skims, Darcy managed 10.

"A hidden talent" she observed.

"Just a lot of practice," he responded.

XXX

"I have a surprise for you." He said once they got back in the chopper.

She looked at him curiously. His last surprise to her was something she did not like at all. She frowned.

"It's not that bad at all, I promise."

He went west and as he neared what he was looking for, he turned on some music. It was the Mendelssohn theme he was humming last night popularised by a beer company in Australia.

In the distance she could see a rocky outcrop not too dissimilar in basalt form from the Giant's Causeway in Bushmills.

It was Fingal's Cave off Staffa.

She had never seen it before but heard and read so much about it. Though the waters were relatively calm today, as Mendelssohn's theme crescendoed and decresendoed, it was so very easy to imagine the crashing of the waves against the island in that persistent wave rhythm.

She wondered what type of music Mendelssohn would have written for Skull Rock, off Wilson's Promontory in Victoria, had he been alive.

As the final notes of the music faded, she turned to him genuinely and said "Thank you, that was beautiful."

"You're welcome," he responded as he turned them northwards back to Skye. You see Lizzy, he wanted to add to her, I'm a gentleman after all.

XXX

After landing back in Skye, they decided to head south towards the hamlet of Elgol for their last night on Skye. It was a beautiful spot - then again Skye had so many beautiful and hidden spots. Tomorrow, they return to Edinburgh and Lizzy was going to take the train back to St Pancras.

Their Scottish interlude was nearly at an end. But tonight, the two travelling companions were going to enjoy each other's company as if they had been lifelong friends.