The picture here, of the islands of Jura and Isaly floating away in the distance, is proof that the thought of spending a night in wet clothes and sleeping in wet sleeping bags (see 'end of the road part 3') was enough to encourage us to turn back and walk the six and a half miles back to the car. A couple of miles later it started raining again.
They say life is all about contrasts, that you can't appreciate quality if you've not felt discomfort. I can certainly vouch for that, as by the time I got back to the car (which was always over the next hill, the next hill, the next hill...) I was soaked through.
To go from completely sodden clothes to a dry and fresh set is a privilege I'll remember for a long time to come. Just sitting in the car, dry, felt heavenly. Which is good, as in the absence of rooms at the island's only hotel (our new back-up plan) the three of us slept in the car.