Back to the mainland

Thursday 17 September

There is no avoiding it - transport connections today are going to make things challenging. I leave my accommodation in the pitch black at 6am to drive to Lochboisdale for the ferry back to Mallaig. I arrive there after about 35 minutes, during which time I meet 3 other vehicles. It is quite an eerie drive

Knowing that I need to fill up with petrol before returning the car, I decide to do so before boarding the ferry (pay at pump seems quite common here, which is just as well). This is something I have done many times during my 40 years of driving, but it would appear someone didn't drain the nozzle before me because on insertion I get a splashback over my foot and the leg of my jeans. I stink, but luckily am able to change into different trousers once I'm in the ferry queue and have a carrier bag to hide away the smelly pair.

We board and leave on time - this is a big boy and the journey is over 3 hours so we're allowed to leave cars and go up into lounges or on deck. The promised sun is not yet out but I position myself in the lounge in the hope of seeing some dolphins or even whales out at sea - I think I may have spotted one of the latter, but it certainly didn't breach so I could have mistaken by the shadow under the water. 

We arrive in Mallaig and I park up and go to the station to check the bad news the app has given me - a landslip on the west coast line means that I will have to get off the train at Fort William and get on a bus to Crianlarich where I will then pick up the train to Glasgow Queen Street. I am assured that this will take the same time as the train would have done (which miraculously turns out to be true. There's a first time for everything.) Not being keen on the prospect of a hernia, I leave my heavy luggage at Way out West, a quirky gift and clothing store, who will stick it in a stockroom for the day for £3 per item, worthwhile as I have to take the car back and have over 4 hours to kill until the train at 4pm.

I drive to Morar 3 miles away to take back the car. The jobsworth woman I encountered before, who is evidently terrified of coronavirus (I know, I know, she may live with someone vulnerable. But she even refused to dispose of a plastic bottle I had left in the car, and disinfected the card machine keypad I had used three times), is obviously concerned that the dirt the Note has accumulated over the past rainy week is disguising damage, but I persuade her that it isn't, she relieves me of £400+ for the hire, and I set off to walk back to Mallaig. I have time and I need the exercise. I have done far too much car sitting this past week.

It's along a main road, but there's a designated walkway and the roadside is very pretty, with mini slate cliffs and loads of heather and wildflowers. It follows the railway line, and when I hit the town the Jacobite steam train is on the move:

As I pass the slightly grotty hotel I stayed in on the way out, the nice young man from Barcelona who seemed to perform every role there (I don't know if his name was Manuel) sees me and waves. Which was nice, and I was also recognised by the lovely waitress in the bar/restaurant I visited, where I go for a very nice leisurely lunch with a glass of wine and my kindle.

I visit the little Heritage Centre, watch a rather dull video all about the fishing industry in Mallaig and look at some photos to pass a bit of time, then collect my luggage and go to the station. By now it is blazing hot, there are men in shorts and women wearing sleeveless tops, and I am in a jumper, with a layer beneath, denim jacket, thick socks and walking shoes. I am very uncomfortable and hot standing on the platform, but finally we're allowed on the train and off we go to Fort William through that wonderful scenery again, but because I'm a bit drowsy and sitting backwards I miss the wondrous viaduct.

At Fort William we're directed to the coach and I have to say that this was the best bus replacement service EVER. The coach driver zips along at a cracking speed, but we also get to see the most wonderful highland scenery for over an hour, though as I wasn't sure of the direction of Ben Nevis I'm afraid I missed it. In the early evening sun, it was a stunning journey and I probably got to see even more than I would have done from the train as the railway line frequently goes through dense woodland.

There's a bit of a wait at Crianlarich, but the train pulls it and off we go to Glasgow - sadly it's dark soon after so I don't see much. I finish my book on the kindle - I recomment Hamnet by Maggie O'Farrell, an imagining of the early life of Shakespeare, Anne Hathaway (actually mostly about her) and their family.

Bang-on time arrival at Queen Street, and I walk the 10 minutes to my quirky Citizen M hotel (but WHY is it always uphill?!) which is in between the Pavilion and Royal theatres. Now this is a new experience, checking in on a touchscreen without a human in sight, intuitive though it is - you even make your own keycard. It's nearly 10pm by this time and I'm a bit jiggered so go straight to my room which is very narrow, but airy and well designed. 

Sadly no tea and coffee (and I can't face the thought of finding the canteen) but the bed is wondrous. An iPad controls everything and once I've switched the lights on and off several times (including plunging myself into total darkness and having to grope around the room) and worked out how to close the blinds, I get ready for bed and sleep the sleep of the just or a person who's just spent 16 hours in transit.

Friday 18 September

Friday dawns sunny in Glasgow. I'm on the 4th floor but as there are workmen on site opposite modesty dictates I leave the blinds down for a while until I'm decent. The hard floor makes the daily yoga a bit challenging but it's a great shower. Breakfast is a kind of buffet and is very good, with granola and yogurt and a revelatory vegan croissant which has all the taste and none of the grease. 

I pop out to Superdrug as I'm in need of some supplies, 

then return to the hotel to collect my luggage and order an Uber to take me to the Avis car rental down near the quay. I am given a shiny red VW Golf with very fierce brakes and one of those push button parking brakes which confuse me no end. Is it on or off? It has parking sensors but the satnav isn't enabled as obviously that's a chargeable extra - annoying. So I have to use my Google maps on my phone and which sends me to the wrong place when I get to the destination end of what is a surprisingly short journey out of the city to this beautiful national park. Fortunately I'm not a million miles away and Balloch's not that big so following my nose works out well. 

I find a place to park (free - another welcome surprise), locate my hotel (Balloch House) which is smack in the middle of the village and on the loch, and go to Tourist Information where they give me loads of leaflets and useful advice. 

I move the car to the hotel car park, change into walking sandals - hurrah! buy a picnic lunch, and set off along Lomond Shores. This is a lovely, accessible walk through and alongside sun-dappled woodland that skirts the loch. It leads to an aquarium, a treetop adventure walk for kids, a bird of prey centre and a small shopping mall, complete with a Thorntons and a Jenners HoF store. Not for me thanks, so I walk on, through more woodland past a pretty marina and find a bench facing the water in memory of Hannah Shoesmith where I eat my lunch and breathe. So lovely, and great to have a bit of a walk.

I head back and buy a ticket for a Sweeney's one-hour cruise around the lake. I also cannot resist the ice cream being sold (Scottish tablet  flavour is especially nice), but I sit and eat it in the sun until it's time to board the boat. The trip is nicely done, with a pre-recorded commentary detailing some of the historic events and places surrounding the loch. Apparently it's 24 miles long and 5 miles at the widest point, and across it is the invisible line separating the lowlands and the highlands, marked by Ben Lomond. It's dark water because it's so deep, and it's peaty.

There's not much else to see in Balloch apart from the country park walks and the castle which I will do on Sunday, so I check into my hotel and receive a friendly welcome. It's an old pub with rooms which are charmingly crooked - I have to walk slightly uphill to the bathroom - but although it's great to have a little view of the Loch, I'm right above the pub garden so I hope it won't be too noisy. And the TV keeps losing signal, and the wifi quality is such that means the apps on my phone won't connect as the signal is insecure - so I will probably be addressing this with the management. Good job I'm not on a work trip.

I discover to my horror, having spent the night in 6 different places before this, that finally I have managed to leave my phone charger behind at Citizen M. The local convenience store, run by a charming and helpful Asian shopkeeper with a broad Scots accent, of course sells absolutely everything and comes to my rescue, but it's not the cheapest mistake I've ever made because it's both the plug and the cable I've left plugged in beneath the bedside table in room 404.

I update this blog, and go for a solitary dinner of lobster fishcakes, retiring back to my room before 8.30pm. The TV signal is pretty much gone for the night and both BBC Sounds and Deezer are fighting a losing battle with the wifi. I still feel lucky though - especially as I discover my trusty Chromebook will play iPlayer.

Uist - a united chain of islands

 Tuesday 15 September

My ferry to Berneray, one of the islands that make up Uist, wasn't til mid morning so I didn't have to rush. At last the rain had stopped and I had a relaxed drive down to Leverburgh on the tip of south Harris. I cannot explain why there is an office chair in this Information booth en route, but it would've been a rather damp sit...oh and there are lots of weird scarecrows on the south of the island - no idea what they're supposed to be scaring off as most of them are at the entrance to properties - quite bizarre. Maybe they're there to frighten the sheep off approaching the property.

I visited the community shop, where they're kind enough to let you use their loo and they sell an amazing range of everything, including DIY, groceries, upmarket smellies and Harris Tweed souvenirs (there's even a little Harris Tweed exhibition there). 

I bought wine, since I had detected that there was no restaurant within walking distance of my next accommodation, and I am so weak-willed I couldn't face the thought of a a night on holiday without alcohol.

The CalMac ferry monopoly in the Hebrides works very efficiently, but sadly with the smaller ones you have to stay in your car these days so you don't get to see the arrival. I drove through Berneray and on to North Uist. Yet again a dramatic, mountainous landscape, and I drove to Lochmaddy where a friend of a friend is running the small cultural and exhibition centre (which includes a post office) called Taigh Chearsabagh. Simon said "Welcome to Taigh Chearsabagh" as I arrived, but I have no idea how he pronounced it. Gaelic is very prevalent on signs and legends here (and throughout the Hebrides), but I've yet to hear any locals speaking it. The accent is very soft and easy to understand, and you can definitely hear a touch of Norse with the Viking influences.

We had a good old chinwag about culture and the like over lunch - he's only been here for a couple of months and it's a 2-year secondment, so too early to say how he's settling in - but having come from Edinburgh, I do wonder whether it'll feel a bit too quiet, without live theatre and so on. Really nice guy though and was nice to have a cultural chat.

I drove on mid afternoon through North Uist, again with an ever-changing and dramatic landscape, but again with not much to visit en route. I drove up a couple of tracks in search of promised walks only for signs to disappear so that the route was unclear. Even some of the beaches appear to be inaccessible - tantalisingly close, but with farmland appearing to bar the way to the casual visitor. I arrived on Benbecula (which is very flat and somewhat featureless, hence that's why the airport's there) and at my accommodation, which is basically a large house divided up into a number of large bedrooms, and tonight it's just me occupying the whole place. 

I meet Marion the owner (she's in a Range Rover, so obviously not doing too badly), and my room is spacious and well equipped. In fact, the shower also doubles as a mini steam room - a nice diversion, (apparently very popular among the many cyclists braving the Hebridean Way). Covid has put paid to a decent buffet breakfast, so there's a well-stocked tray of long-life products which reminds me of my Interrail trip 5 years ago, but there's also a fridge with fresh milk and a place to stash my wine - hurrah!

I call a local restaurant and order takeaway scampi and chips, and then have to drive 6 miles there and back to collect (having had to call them because I couldn't find them, but bless the chef's heart he came out to wave me down!). Sadly it is a very unremarkable takeaway, although generous on both scampi and chips, but the room is comfortable, there is a loveluy sunset, at the back of the house 

I have chosen decent wine,  and I have the pleasure of listening to one of Barry's auditions for The Bet, the first play in our short play season. I watch Des (blimey Tennant and Mays are good) and have a very early night as I need to leave here at 0815 to catch the ferry from Eriskay to Barra, which is promised to be the Hebrides in miniature. I have slept well for most of this holiday.

Wednesday 16 September

This part of the trip is basically a series of islands from Berenay in the north to Eriskay in the south. An early start today and a really lovely drive south to Eriskay, and crossing at various points via beautiful causeways with lochs on either side. The sunrise was rather lovely

The sun glints off the water, the blue skies make those lochs even bluer - it really is gorgeous. Many of the roads here and on the other islands are single track with gazillions of passing places - everyone acknowledges the giving of way. I arrive in Eriskay and am gobsmacked by the causeway (no stopping for a pic allowed - bah!) and the views.

I am early for the ferry, so make a phone call and walk around a bit. The crossing is only around 40 minutes, but sadly by the time I arrive the sun has gone and Barra is covered by cloud. I drive the winding road to Castlebay, where of course you can't get over to the castle because the ferry isn't running, 

you can't visit the Heritage Centre, and although you can buy the newly-launched Barra gin  you can't watch it being made. The local shops have some sad and overpriced, poorly presented souvenirs. And it starts raining, again that very gentle and quiet rain that soaks you through within minutes. I visit the local Co-op to buy my dinner for tonight - and where would the Hebrides be without the Co-op? Respect! I have come to greatly value the sight of a Co-op.

I drive west and north and come across loads of cars parked by the cemetery

and after a short distance I give way to the hearse carrying the dearly departed. But they sure have chosen stunning locations for their cemeteries, and if the number of waiting cars is anything to go by, the late Barran was a very popular person. 

I carry on, bound for the airport where you can watch small aircraft land on the extensive beach. Sadly you can only buy takeaway from the nice ladies in the little cafe, so I purchased a toastie, went back to my car and watched a private plane make a very hairy and noisy landing on the beach. The rain eased a bit so I went for a walk on the headland on the other side of the landing beach.

With little more to do, I drove a bit further north past the very average-looking house that had belonged to Compton Mackenzie, the author of Whisky Galore which was filmed on Barra. I went to the ferry terminal early, bought supplies from the very nice coffee shop, and read for a while before bording the ferry for the crossing back to Eriskay and South Uist. En route to Benbecula I stopped off at the memorial to Flora McDonald 

whose house was originally here - she was the famed escort of Bonnie Prince Charlie (over the sea to Skye) during the Jacobite Rebellion. She was quite a girl - after being imprisoned for her part in attempting to get the son of James II on the throne, she married and tried to make her fortune in the US with her husband, but eventually returned to her homeland and died on Skye. I also stopped off at this rather unexpected Catholic tribute to Our Lady of the Isles - a 20' column of the madonna and child that's in the middle of nowhere.

Back to the Hebrides House to pack, eat and sleep and have a steam and a shower before a start at stupid o'clock tomorrow to go back to the mainland. Some reflections about the Hebrides:

• Lots of sheep and hairy cows - you feel less stressed just watching them
• Passing places make single track roads much less scary and encourage you into 5th gear, but my right wrist probably has RSI from the constant acknowledgement of those who have given way to me
• So many lochs, big and small - and the causeways made me feel happy as I crossed them
• Where on earth do they buy ordinary clothes that aren't Harris tweed or woolly? Not even any of the independent chichi boutiques I favour...where so they buy pants ffs?
• Bees and wasps hitch rides on the ferries (and fleas if there are sheep on board)
• Virtually nothing has been open for business - no castles, no heritage centres, no museums, no boat trips - I should have researched better as these are essential diversions when the weather is against you
• No face covering, no entry and use the sanitiser - the Hebrideans have been very strict about anti-Covid measures
• The gentle rain swirls and soaks you - am glad I brought 2 cagoules
• The landscape and the colours are amazing and have made the trip worthwhile

Tomorrow is a travelling day and will probably involve hanging about and tedium. But I'm really looking forward to a weekend in Loch Lomond.

Trapped in Tarbert

 Sunday 13 September

I have no excuses. I made this trip of my own free will, knowing that the weather in Scotland and especially the Western Isles was quite likely to be wet and windy. But as an optimist, I had hoped that it might not be quite as wet and windy as the BBC forecast was making out. But it was, and it is, and as I write this the rain that started about 24 hours ago in Stornaway hasn't abated all day. And it's swirly rain, the sort that makes you extra drippy.

I couldn't face the dining room in the Stornaway hotel so ordered breakfast in my room and it was just about edible. One random thing I've noticed in Stornaway is that the water is so soft it's almost sticky, even more so than Skye.

I packed up and got in the car, hoping to be able to at least access the Lews castle grounds for a bit of a wander, but I was thwarted, so I just continued on the A859 from Lewis to Harris which was almost deserted. All three petrol stations en route were also closed as I thought I should top up before doing lots of miles today, but as the rain just blotted out so much of the horizon I realised that a day burning fuel and not wanting to venture out of the car to look at mainly obscured views was probably not the best idea. 

Plus  - most of the sheep I've seen today have been venturing perilously close to the road and I had to stop and wait for one particularly defiant black-faced ewe who just stared me out for at least half a minute before strolling from the middle to the other side. The weird thing is that sheep are not freaked out by cars at all - but if you go anywhere near them when on foot, they turn tail and leg it.

I gave in to the weather and stopped at my hotel, which is on the main road but set well back. There's a fast-running stream just beyond my window so there's a kind of white noise roar going on which I hope will send me to sleep as I've not had the most active of days. Luckily for me my room hadn't been occupied last night so I was able to check in early. I sat in the lounge on a Harris tweed chair and ordered coffee and shortbread, read a book, watched the rain (not the worst view) and listened to the Proms. After a cooked breakfast I should have skipped lunch, but they have cullen skink on the menu and I couldn't resist - very nice too. 

The rain had eased a bit so I donned waterproof trousers, walking shoes, hat and cagoule, and strode out to explore Tarbert. Of course nothing was open (I shall be at the Harris Tweed shop and the gin distillery first thing tomorrow) and so I wend my solitary way round the mean streets which took me all of 35 minutes. By the time I got back, I was dripping as the easing had only lasted a few minutes but I was determined to soldier on and at least do a circuit of the town. Waterfalls here are not so peaty, but still loads of lambretia. I think the volume and colour of wild flowers and heather here will be one of the best memories.

I returned to my room, and then remembered that of course I can watch Netflix on my Chromebook, so that's what I've been doing all afternoon and now it's nearly dinner time. It feels like a waste of a day, but there really did seem little point in risking flooded roads to try and see beautiful beaches and scenery obscured by cloud and rain.

Dinner was delicious - Harris gin, scallops (yes, fish again) followed by lemon posset. I have returned to my room to watch the new series about Singapore in the 1940s with David Morrissey and cannot figure out how to lose the subtitles that have appeared on the TV screen. On the plus side, I've caught Harry Hill's World of TV on BBC2 which is quite brilliant.

Monday 14 September

Good night's sleep but still raining 😞 After breakfast (sorry Scottish friends, but the porridge did taste like wallpaper glue compared to the Scotts Old Fashioned I make in the microwave at home - but I just felt I l should have a break from a cooked breakfast!) I walked into town (which takes all of three minutes) to visit Harris Tweed and the Harris Distillery. I bought a blue tweedy cross body bag, a fridge magnet (of course) and a bangle so have done my bit to support the local economy. The Distillery tour wasn't happening because of you know what - and I was a bit shocked that Harris Gin have really missed a trick by selling only full (yes and very beautiful) bottles. No half bottles or miniatures which would have fit happily into my suitcase - so I will be going home sans gin. Shocking, yes I know.

Waterproof trousers and cagoule at the ready, I got in the car and headed for Luskentyre beach which took about 20 minutes and the single track road went past 3 cemeteries, but I think the gravestones mark burial of ashes rather than being graves. I remember seeing a cemetery on the coast between Bondi and Coogee beaches in Australia when I visited in 2005 and thinking it would be a nice final resting place - bit warmer there though...

The beach, reached by a short walk over some white sand dunes, is vast and very beautiful. On a sunny day it must be a magical place to be There were some guys in the car park suiting up for what I think must  be sea kayaking rather than surfing as the rollers weren't that big - but I also saw a man wearing only trunks swimming in the sea. He wasn't that close but I could see he was very pink indeed.

After blowing away the cobwebs I headed back down the road in the hope of visiting a couple of places on the coast - but nothing was open, and nowhere even to stop for a coffee. I managed to fill up with petrol (I've driven about 300 miles now) at Leverburgh which I need to return to tomorrow for the ferry. I carried on to Rodahl to St Clements Church which looked very interesting through the windows but again sadly couldn't get in. 

I then embarked on a very hairy drive around the south east coast of the island on a single track road that wend its way through what I can only describe as a lunar landscape - huge dark outcrops of rock populated by moss, heather and sheep. I had to concentrate so hard on which way it was bending, with frequent blind summits,  it gave me a headache - and with considerable drops on either side of the road I didn't even dare stop in case I got out of the zone, so sorry no pics! It seemed to go on for ever, and at one point I met a lorry who wasn't going to be reversing back for anyone - but I couldn't see what was behind me, so conscious of that £950 excess, I took it so slowly even I was cursing myself.

I returned to Tarbert - again the Harris Tweed exhibition centre was closed - had some lunch in the Hebridean Hotel near the ferry port, resisted Essence of Harris smelly candles, lotions and potions (I did buy some hand sanitiser though, which was also available at Harris Distillery), bought a coffee and walked back to the hotel to do the blog and watch a bit of TV - it still hadn't stopped raining! After a very nice dinner in the old school dining room, I tuned into Zoom to join the SLT General Council meeting, but they couldn't hear me and apparently I was almost permanently frozen, so I spent a very frustrating couple of hours trying to communicate via the Chat and raising my virtual hand to say something only for no-one to notice....! Got creeped out watching David Tennant playing Dennis Nielsen in Des on ITV - it's grisly but compelling stuff. Lights out and planning tomorrow for my ferry trip to Berneray on North Uist, where I'm due to meet Simon, a friend of a friend.