Stornoway way

Where was I? Since we last spoke, I have driven up from Muasdale on Kintyre to Oban, got on a ferry to Barra, then another one to Eriskay, driven from Eriskay to South and then North Uist, taken a ferry from North Uist to Harris, and I've today driven from Harris up to Stornoway in Lewis (Harris and Lewis are attached).

Tomorrow the Hebridean Celtic Festival begins, and Jan arrives at Stornoway Airport at 11 in the morning! I am so excited I have spring-cleaned the van and done the laundry. And I also met up with Annie and Martin in Harris last Saturday, which was brill...we had a lot of laughs and some nice meals in and out. We also went on a boat trip and saw seals and lots of seabirds. They're now up here, and we're meeting up tomorrow night at one of the first gigs of HebCeltFest. Which I will be reviewing for the HebCeltFest website!




I was correct in my assumption that electricity and a signal would both be hard to get on the islands: on Harris (where they make the tweed: it's not just the name of one of the Queen's corgis) I had one of the only four electric hook-ups on the island, and had to walk about 200m up the road to get any kind of signal. I did take my laptop up there one evening to read mail, but was driven off by midges. And also by an islander passing with a sheepdog who had the kind of expression on his face that said 'Tourists!', despite talking to me politely about dogs. I don't suppose you see a woman with a dog and a Macbook sitting on the steps of an abandoned cottage every night of the week. But then fair's fair: what counts for normal on the islands in not your everyday...for example, a man next to the campsite was burning his house down on purpose, presumably to save demolition costs. And most people have abandoned tractor parts (some historic) in their front gardens, particularly on Barra. It reminds me of something my sister told me, from the mouth of a tour guide in Ireland: 'And the biggest thing they ever found in the bog was....(dramatic pause)...a village'.

There are few formal campsites in the Hebrides. I found a place to camp on Barra mainly because a little boy on a bike rode up to my van and asked me where my bed was, and then his mum came over, and I got talking to her and she ended up opening a gate and showing me the loveliest little field where I could camp.

I did lots of good walks: fantastic one on South Uist along a causeway with huge crescent beaches either side, and it was hot enough when I got into the dunes at the end of the little spit of land to lie down and sunbathe. As long as you kept out of the wind. The grassland here has a special name - machair - and is known for its wild flowers, cottongrass, and abundance of wildlife, including the rare and elusive (but loud) corncrake. Wherever I was, sunset was usually spectacular - although you have to wait until 10.30 at night to see it.

As you'll see from the photo, life in the van has settled into a kind of comfortable clutter. And that's my very nice new Harris blanket. It's hard not to buy wool on Harris: 2 pairs of socks, a blanket, a jumper and a scarf later...

Hope to be back during or after the HebCeltFest madness.