EUROPE – PART 7 

After more than 3,000 kilometers of driving, a lot of it on single-track roads, twenty islands, and twelve ferry crossings, our Scottish adventure ended in a hotel near Edinburgh airport. Although rain and wind sometimes interfered with our plans, it made for some spectacular rainbows, and we enjoyed everything about Scotland. The people are friendly and helpful; it’s not crowded; we only had one bad meal (our last dinner at the Hampton Inn Edinburgh Airport); except for fuel, things are reasonably priced; B&Bs are definitely the way to go; wifi is easily accessible; public toilets are plentiful and clean; almost all attractions are open until the end of October; history is very important to the Scottish people; and haggis and black (blood) pudding are damn good eatin’.

We took three days to get from Kirkwall to Edinburgh. Along the way, we (I) wanted to visit a couple of places: the Culloden Battlefield and the Old Course and World Golf Museum in St. Andrews. The former tells the story of the last great battle on British soil, a terrible day. As many as 2,000 men died in a matter of minutes, for nothing really, just because two rival families lusted for power in London. The battlefield shown below doesn't look like much but is understandably a very sacred place to Scots.

Although I’m not a golfer, I love the game and have wanted to visit its birthplace, the Old Course at St. Andrews. We started with the Golf Museum, a waste of $32, but enjoyed walking along the 18^th hole where so many have triumphed to win the coveted Claret Jug. St. Andrews is a beautiful city and was an important center long before the dawn of golf. St. Andrews University celebrated its 600^th anniversary in 2013 and its old buildings are elegant and stately. And, by the way, we walked past the café where Kate and Will met!

Later that afternoon, I happily turned in our Vauxhall. Twenty days on the road was enough! No dents though and didn’t get the finger once, that I noticed at least…

We flew from Edinburgh to Tromsø via Oslo, our first time above the Arctic Circle, to begin the third leg of our European adventure. Our hotel was located right on the harbour, a five-minute walk from the center of downtown. Tromsø has a population of 65,000 or so and is a vibrant, cosmopolitan city with a lot to offer the visitor. Elva was impressed with the quality and variety of the stores here although things are very expensive, way beyond her budget, she said. Norway is a rich country, having the fourth highest per capita income in the world, and it shows!

We spent our one full day there walking around and getting our bearings. It was a nice opportunity to slow our pace and relax a bit. Despite the chilly, damp weather, the port is a happening place. Tourists are still booking sailing expeditions to fish or just view the beautiful natural surroundings. We watched young people jump into the freezing harbour water from houseboats and scramble back on board to settle in a hot tub. That in itself is incredible when you realize that Tromsø, latitude wise, is as far north as Tuktoyaktuk in our Northwest Territories. The warmer climate here is of course due to the warming effect of the Gulf Stream.

Norway is a very long and narrow country situated at the northern tip of Europe. It extends 1,770 km from south to north, a distance equal to that from New York to Miami. The country has a population of about 5.5 million and shares borders with Sweden, Finland, and Russia. It is a member of NATO and Schengen but not the European Union. Since indicators help me understand where a country stands, here are just a few. Norway has the world’s largest sovereign wealth fund (a national savings account) with a value of US $1 trillion; it has had the highest Human Development Index ranking in the world since 2009; it ranked first on the World Happiness Report for 2017; and currently ranks first on the OECD Better Life Index, the Index of Public Integrity, the Freedom Index, and the Democracy Index. Norway also has one of the lowest crime rates in the world.

At breakfast, we looked out to see the MS Spitsbergen docked at the pier next to our hotel. I’d like to claim good planning on my part, but it was really just luck. We are scheduled to visit eight ports as we sail south along the Norwegian coast, and we couldn’t be more excited to begin this new adventure.

Hurtigruten markets this cruise as an ‘expedition voyage’. It will be very different from the five cruises we’ve done with Holland America and the one we just finished with Princess. If the first day’s program is any indication, we’re in for a busy time of it! The crew includes several ‘experts’ in fields such as birds, marine mammals, glaciers, photography, and history, and an expedition director who looks after all the scheduling. The ship is much smaller than any we’ve sailed on and there are only about 60 guests on this leg of the voyage.

On our way to the town of Svolvaer, population 5,000, on the Lofoten Islands archipelago, the ship sailed into the magnificent Trollfjord and did a couple of 360s. The photos give some idea of the majesty of the place. Spitsbergen is a small and very maneuverable vessel, and she can turn on a dime.

We trudged through slush in Svolvaer, the result of the year’s first snowfall, and explored on foot for three hours or so, stopping at information stations that explained how stockfish are dried and preserved, how fishing was in the old days, and how things are in modern-day Lofoten. Locals were out and about but, since it was Sunday, things were quiet. My favourite part of the day was watching three guys fish cod right off the wharf. One had caught six, the biggest weighing just under 12 pounds! The local guide told us there is no limit on the number of fish, just a lower size limit of 42 centimeters. The Norwegians have obviously done a better job of managing their fishery than we have.

Next morning, we awoke to clear skies and another beautiful scene, the pocket harbour at the place called Svartisen, little more than a collection of small farms. Our objective for the day as I began the last year of my seventh decade on this planet was to climb to the base of the glacier of the same name. Our adventure began with a short trip by zodiac from the ship to the jetty. Then we walked to a lodge about a kilometer away. Upon reaching the lake, everyone suddenly went quiet, all of us rendered speechless by the incredible sight before us: the lake and the glacier that feeds it.

Our guide led us up through a fairly difficult scramble over icy boulders until we reached a point a few hundred metres below the foot of the glacier. Words cannot describe the beauty we saw on all sides.

At 3:00 pm, we were summoned to a ceremony on the observation deck as we were about to cross the Arctic Circle. The Captain and his assistant pour ice down your back, followed by stiff drinks of cod liver oil and some high-octane solution meant to warm you up. Elva missed taking a photo of my first baptism, so I had to do it all over again!

Not long after, Spitsbergen sailed past a small island just after sunset. The globe in the photo marks the precise location of the Arctic Circle.

Day 4 saw us dock in the pretty town of Brønnøysund, population 5,000, located halfway between the northern and southernmost points in Norway. Our challenge for the day was to hike 5 kilometres to the base of the mountain called Torghatten, a granite dome famous for the hole or tunnel through its center, then climb up to the hole itself. Local legend says that the hole was made by a troll chasing a beautiful girl, while geologists and glaciologists explain that it formed during the last ice age, when ice and water eroded the looser rocks and made the hole. Once again, we enjoyed this beautiful and challenging day outdoors and later soaked in the hot tub to soothe our aching bones. In the group picture, I’m the old guy with his sleeves rolled up, having a hot flash. On the last photo, you can see islands through the hole.

 

EUROPE – PART 6

 

The contrast between Skye and the Uists is striking, and you see it as soon as the ferry docks at Uig. The island is part of the Inner Hebrides group and is slightly smaller in area than Prince County on Prince Edward Island, with a population of about 10,000. Unlike the other islands on our tour, it is connected to the mainland by a bridge. The main industries are tourism, agriculture, fishing, aquaculture (salmon), and forestry. There are browns and greys in the landscape, as on the Uists, but these are complemented by vivid greens like we’ve seen in Ireland and on the South Island of New Zealand. And, best of all, most of the roads are double track!

We spent two full days on Skye, starting with a stop in Portree, the main town, and a visit to the local Tourist Information Office where we were advised on what to see in the short time we had. Our hosts, Hayley and Thomas of the Kilcamb B&B in Edinbane, suggested we drive to Carbost and have dinner at the Village Inn rather than go back to Portree. “You’ll be sure to get a table there,” they told us. Tourist operators here have been having a difficult time finding staff since COVID, just as they have back home, and many restaurants are closed. To illustrate, the place where we ate on Benbecula featured a waitress from Portugal and a waiter from Romania. By the way, the Village Inn turned out to be a beautiful spot: good food, lots of character, and right beside beautiful Loch Harport. Lesson learned: always take advice from the locals on where to eat and what to do.

We’d planned to see four attractions during our one full day on Skye and started with a visit to the Skye Museum of Island Life. There we learned what a ‘crofter’ is, how difficult life was in olden times, the story of Bonnie Prince Charlie and the Jacobites, and why Scots left for the New World during the Highland Clearances, many of them to settle on our Island. The museum’s collection of buildings, tools, and artifacts is excellent. Fortunately, we got there just before a busload of tourists and were able to take our time discovering. Shown below are the crofter's cabin of John and Annie Graham, who raised ten children there and, of course, the handsome Highland cattle that are common on Skye.

We stopped at Kilt Rock and Mealt Falls. The rock is 90 metres high and consists of basalt columns sitting on a sandstone base. As the photo shows, the pattern looks like the pleats of a kilt, hence the name. Mealt Falls plummets from the top of the cliffs into the ocean below. Together, they are an impressive sight.

Next, it was on to the Storr, an impressive rocky outcrop located on the east side of the Trotternish Peninsula overlooking the Sound of Raasay. The parking lot was near full as we began our two-hour hike to the base of the Old Man of Storr and its neighbour, the Needle, so-called because of its sharp point and its ‘eye’. I’m not sure what the difference in elevation is but I know my Garmin showed we’d climbed 100 stories. The Storr and the Needle are impressive sights, even in the horizontal rain that greeted us just as we arrived at our destination. The third photo shows Elva on her way down; easier said than done on slippery rocks when you're well past your best before date!

Stop number four was the village of Sligachan, trailhead for the many paths through the Cuillin Hills. We had planned to take a short hike to the Fairy Pools, a series of deep pools fed by waterfalls, but the trail was just too muddy and, anyway, we’d had enough exercise for one day. 

On the morning of our last day on Skye, we drove to the westernmost point on the island, Neist Point Lighthouse, and on our way back toward the ferry, visited the magnificent Dunvegan Castle, ancestral home of the MacLeod Clan. Unfortunately, the weather was horrible, driving rain and 100 km/hr gusts. Our scheduled crossing to Harris was delayed by five hours, so we killed time at the Tourist Info Centre before sailing across The Minch, the strait that separates Skye from Lewis and Harris.

We arrived at the ferry terminal on Harris at 9:00 pm and drove through driving rain on unfamiliar roads to our B&B near Stornoway, largest town in the Outer Hebrides, population 7,000. Thank goodness the road was two-lane. Next morning, we headed west on Lewis and stopped to visit the Calanish Stones, a circular arrangement of thirteen boulders surrounded by five rows arranged in a cross shape. They were erected about 5,000 years ago, making them older than Stonehenge. Although their purpose is unknown, they are an impressive sight. Humans living in other parts of Europe at the same time erected standing stones, both singly and in groups.

Continuing westward, we visited the Blackhouse Village, a collection of traditional stone houses with thatched roofs lovingly preserved for visitors and those searching for a unique living experience. One of the structures was occupied by a family until 1974 and has been preserved just as it was. The floor is slanted so that the manure of livestock that lived in the lower part of the structure would flow in the right direction, away from the house’s human occupants, obviously. Several houses on the site have been repurposed into self-catering accommodations, an important source of revenue for the trust that manages the site. Incidentally, they’re called ‘blackhouses’ simply because they differ from the more modern houses on Lewis, most of which are painted white.

We also learned about peat: how it’s cut, dried, and stacked. The man in the first photo is loading peat from a trench where he’s cut and dried it. He’ll take it home and stack it in his yard as shown in the second photo.

As is our usual habit, we went to the end of the road, the north end of the island and the community of Ness. We found a small beach there beside the tiny fishing port. The wind made for some impressive surf conditions. That afternoon, we toured Stornoway, a town founded by the Vikings in the ninth century and had lunch and dinner there.

On our second day, we’d planned to drive to the village of Tarbert as Elva wanted to check out the world-renowned Harris Tweed shop there. After breakfast, we went to put on our hiking shoes in the entryway to the B&B. No shoes! What the hell? Panic! My Merrells were all of four days old and Elva had owned hers for barely a month, complete with custom-made orthotics. All gone, easily $600 worth of footwear! As it turned out, guests who’d checked out that morning had taken the shoes by mistake and were heading towards the ferry on South Harris. Our host, Helen, tracked them down by phone and arranged for them to drop off the shoes at the Harris Tweed shop in Tarbert. We were some glad to see our precious footwear waiting patiently for us when we got there! Today’s lesson: “Don’t sweat the small stuff!”

After a few more kilometers of single-track on the tiny Isle of Scalpay (village shown on photo below) and on South Harris, we returned to Stornoway for one last night at Lathamor and enjoyed a delicious meal prepared by Helen, thus far the best we’ve had in Scotland.

The next morning was windy and wet (again) but the ferry was running from Stornoway to Ullapool on the mainland. Our plan for the day was to drive two stretches of the North Coast 500, Sutherland and Caithness. The North Coast 500 is a 500-mile road trip through the North Highlands. It reminds us of the Cabot Trail and the Gaspé Peninsula with a bit of Québec’s Basse Côte-Nord added for good measure. Unfortunately, we didn’t see much of the landscape for the first few hours because of rain and fog but the weather did finally clear when we reached the village of Durness. Here, we found these most impressive stone fences (Who needs guardrails?) and, nearby, visited the magnificent Smoo Cave and a lovely beach.

By the time we arrived at our rest stop for the night, Westlea B&B in Thurso, I’d had enough single-track for the day. The North Coast 500 is a very busy road, even at this time of year, and I met far too many RV drivers who left me almost no room to pass.

We awoke to bright sunshine in Thurso for the first time in many days. The ferry Hamnavoe, as luxurious as a small cruise ship, took us from Scrabster on the mainland to Stromness on the Orkneys. From there, it was a short drive to the main town, Kirkwall, population 8,000. The Orkneys lie 15 kilometers north of mainland Scotland and consist of 70 islands, 20 of which are inhabited. Together, they have a total land area about one-half the size of Prince County, and a population of 25,000 or so.

The landscape on the Orkneys is pastoral and the land is rich, surprisingly so for this far north, at the same latitude of the northern boundaries of BC, Alberta, Saskatchewan, and Manitoba. For the first time since southern Scotland, we saw fields that had been in crops, cereals mainly and a few rutabagas, and cattle are almost as numerous as sheep. The land is hilly, not mountainous like it is on the mainland and in the Hebrides. In addition to the natural and built environment, there are many layers of history here: Neolithic, Iron Age, Early Medieval, Viking, Scottish, and World Wars I and II.

The excellent guide at the tourist information office gave us an itinerary for the four days we’d spend on the Orkneys. We started by taking a walk around downtown Kirkwall and visited St. Magnus Cathedral (here shown at dusk), founded in 1137, and Britain’s most northerly cathedral. 

To take advantage of the fine day, we set off for our first stops, the UNESCO Heart of Neolithic Orkney World Heritage Sites. The one I really wanted to see was Skara Brae, the Neolithic village. Along the way, we stopped to see the Standing Stones of Stenness, and the Ring of Brodgar, both impressive and similar to what we’d seen at Calanish on Lewis.

Skara Brae has an interesting story. The site was discovered in the 1850s when a storm washed away part of a bank and uncovered ten clustered houses made of flagstone. Archaeological research found that the site was occupied between 3,180 and 2,500 BC. That’s at least 5,000 years ago, and before Stonehenge and the Great Pyramid were built! Skara Brae is Europe’s most complete Neolithic settlement. The first photo shows the interior of a reconstructed house (shelf facing, hearth in the middle, and beds on either side) and the second shows the real thing. Amazing!

Near Skara Brea and the standing stones, we visited the Brough of Birsay, an uninhabited island we accessed by foot at low tide. It was first fortified by the Picts, early inhabitants of the northern and eastern areas of Scotland, in the seventh and eight centuries. They were displaced by the Norse in the ninth century and traces of the Viking settlement remain, including the church and a monastery. Nearby, I walked through the ruins of the Broch of Gurness, first settled around 500 BC; an impressive span of human history in an area no bigger than the Région Évangéline.

Our second day on the Orkneys was a bit more relaxed. I did want to see the Italian Chapel on the tiny island of Lamb Holm, connected to the main island by a causeway. This ornate chapel was built by Italian prisoners of war during World War II. Italy was of course allied with Germany, and 550 Italians, captured by the British in North Africa, were brought to the Orkneys. While here, they helped build the Churchill Barriers, causeways meant to block German U-Boats from entering the important British Navy anchorage at Scapa Flow. The chapel consists of two Nissen huts joined together. The corrugated interior was plastered and then painted to resemble tiles on the walls, with beautiful frescoes on the ceiling and surrounding the altar. As the photos show, the results are striking! Everything you see is painted plaster. Past the Italian Chapel, we drove south as far as we could go, across the islands of Burray and South Ronaldsay, to where we could see the Scottish mainland far off in the mist.

On Day 3 on the Orkneys, we took the tiny ferry to the Isle of Rousay where we planned to do the Westness Walk, described as the most important archaeological mile in Scotland. Rousay is a small island, home to 240 hardy souls, most of them engaged in raising sheep and beef cattle. We pulled into a small parking area and looked down toward some ruins and a building that resembled a farmer’s barn. It didn’t look like much from high on the hill, not even a path.

The weather being fine, we walked down through a steep pasture, dodging sheep shit as we went. Arriving at the seaside, we visited in turn and right next to one another: the Midhowe Chambered Cairn (Neolithic - 5,500 years old); the Midhowe Broch (Pictish – 2,000 years old); remains of a Viking settlement (1,000 years old), the ruins of St. Mary’s Church (abandoned in 1825), and crofters’ houses abandoned during the Highland Clearances in the 1840s: 5,500 years of history!

The Midhowe Chambered Cairn is a 5,500-year-old communal burial chamber that, until the 1930s, appeared to be nothing more than a large oblong grassy mound at the bottom of a farmer’s pasture. Local whisky magnate, Walter Grant, paid out of his own pocket to have the mound excavated and to build a large stone-walled hangar to protect the site. 

People here have an appreciation for history that is unfortunately not found everywhere. Abandoned houses and outbuildings are left to decay in place. They are not knocked down, perhaps out of respect for the people who worked so hard to build them or perhaps in the hope that, someday, someone will come along and rescue them. We should have tried harder to protect our built heritage in La Région Évangéline. Those who, like me, mourn the loss of Église Saint-Philippe et Saint-Jacques will understand what I mean.

Tomorrow will be our last day on the Orkneys, a place we've really enjoyed visiting. We plan to stroll around Kirkwall town and visit some of the places we've missed. Back on the mainland, we'll make our way southward along the North Coast 500 towards our final destination, Edinburgh. Then we'll fly to Tromso, Norway, on October 20 to begin the next phase of our European journey.

 

EUROPE – PART 5

 

The images we’ve seen of the devastation caused by Fiona on our beautiful Island are heart-breaking. As I write this on Day 12, too many of our friends are still without power. While our apartment was unscathed, many historic trees in downtown Charlottetown were destroyed, and this will alter our beloved urban landscape for what remains of our lifetimes. As a forester, I mourn the loss of many majestic giants across the province and know that many old-field white spruce and plantations will not have made it. I sincerely hope they can be salvaged in time and that governments will plan for their replacement. 

As many readers of this blog will know, we’ve spent time during the winters in Fort Myers. We’re deeply saddened by the images we’ve seen of the damage caused by Ian’s wrath. One of our favourite hangouts, Fort Myers Beach, is unrecognizable, the bridge-causeway to Sanibel has been badly damaged and, worst of all, our beloved downtown Fort Myers suffered major water damage from the storm surge that raised the Caloosahatchee River to historic levels. We plan to rejoin our cycling friends there for March and April 2023, and hope that things will be OK for us to do so when the time comes.

Well, it was time to leave Edinburgh after four wonderful days there. As I walked along Princes Street to pick up our rental car, I noticed this beautiful rainbow and thought it must be a harbinger of good weather for the day. Our Vauxhall Overland is a great little vehicle. Only two problems: the steering wheel is on the right and it's a six-speed manual transmission! I kept wanting to sit where Elva was and both halves of my brain wrestled with one another as I drove southward out of the city, thankful for light Saturday morning traffic. Elva usually walks to my right because of deafness in my left ear but, as long as I’m in Scotland, she’ll walk to my left!

Our first stop was Lockerbie, a small town not far from the English border. While Lockerbie is not a common surname, I happen to know two of them. One, Earle, noted Island historian, spells his name “Lockerby”. The other, Brett, a cycling companion and friend from Kingston, Ontario spells his “Lockerbie”. I’d promised Brett I’d send him a couple of images of the town, but the other reason I wanted to go there was to pay my respects to the victims of Pan-Am 103, the terrible plane crash that took place there in 1988. The plane was torn apart in mid-air by a bomb placed in the luggage compartment by a Libyan terrorist and 290 people died, 279 of them passengers and crew, and the remaining 11 citizens of Lockerbie who were killed by falling debris. The beautiful memorial brought to mind just how fragile life can be.

Next, it was on to our first hotel, the Cardross Inn in the small town of the same name. The plan for our nineteen-day Scottish road trip is to stay in inns, guest houses, and B&Bs and get to know the locals and their favourite places as much as we can. It’s a recipe we followed when we visited Ireland in 2016 and it worked very well. Since arriving in Scotland, we’ve encountered many familiar place names, most of them from Southern Kings and Queens counties on Prince Edward Island where many Scottish families settled. Cardross is only one of them.

On our way to Oban, our destination for a three-night stay, we stopped in the beautiful village of Luss on Loch Lomond, ancestral home of the Culquhoon (Cohoon) family. We were very impressed by the beautiful church and houses in this ‘conservation’ village, so named because its cottage-style houses are protected by law. We also stopped in the tiny village of Loch Awe and had a beverage in the tea house located next to St. Conan’s Kirk.

Our first impression of Oban was Wow! We’d seen it on an episode of Rick Steve’s TV program and planned to do a couple of things here: the Three-Isle Tour and the Jacobite Steam Train. But first, we had to find our lodging, the Glenbervie Guest House, not a simple task even with GPS. Eventually, we did, and the place is beautiful with a lovely view of the harbour. The town is home to about 8,000 people and is a major transportation, fishing, and commercial center on the West Coast.

I’ve always loved trains. No doubt it’s because the CNR tracks ran through my back yard in Wellington and because I hung around the station, the feed mill, and the warehouses as a boy. In planning our trip to Scotland, I’d considered the possibility of a rail holiday and looked into several packages, none of which worked out. Instead, while on the West Coast, why not take a ride on the Jacobite Train, described by some as the greatest railway journey in the world. For Harry Potter fans, it’s featured in the movie as the Hogworts Express.

If there’s a straight stretch of road in Scotland other than on the motorways, we haven’t found it yet! We zig-zagged from Oban to Fort William and boarded the train at 10:15, headed for the end of the line, the coastal village of Mallaig, forty-two miles to the west. The experience far exceeded my expectations. The rhythmic clickety-clack of steel on steel, the chugging sound of the steam locomotive as she struggles up a grade, the smell of coal smoke, the rattling sound of the ancient railcars, the beautiful countryside, and the view of the famous viaduct, made it a journey I’ll never forget. After a short walk in the rain and lunch at a local hangout, we embarked on the return journey to Fort William. A day in my travels that I shall never forget! In the video, you can almost hear the engine saying: "I think I can, I think I can!"

For our second day in Oban, we’d chosen the Three Isle Tour, and boarded the Cal-Mac ferry bound for the Isle of Mull, a forty-five-minute crossing. Once there, we boarded a double-decker and listened to the driver tell us everything we needed to know about the island and much more before arriving at the tiny village of Fionnphort. The next leg of our journey required us to board a fifty-foot boat and sail 10 kilometers to the Isle of Staffa. Along the way, we were entertained by frolicking bottle-nosed and common dolphins, my first glimpse of the latter.

Staffa is a wonder of nature, a flat-topped islet made of basalt columns that look like organ pipes. The ocean’s swell made it impossible to dock that day so the captain took us as close as he could to get a good view of Fingal’s Cave, the island’s other prominent feature. There are many legends attached to this island, and my favourite is the one that claims it to be the Scottish terminus of the Giant’s Causeway, the other end of which we’d visited in Northern Ireland in 2016. Many famous people have been inspired by Staffa’s uniqueness. For example, the composer Felix Mendelsshohn wrote his Hebrides Overture after seeing the island and hearing the waves crash against its shores. On the way back, we crossed paths with a Minke whale.

The next stop on our three-island tour was Iona, a place I really wanted to visit to see the Iona Abbey. St. Columba established a monastery there in the year 563, making it one of the oldest Christian centers in all of Europe. Why he chose such a desolate place is today hard to imagine. Nothing remains of the original wooden abbey, but the reconstructed Benedictine abbey and the other buildings are impressive, and the museum contains many important relics; gravestones and crosses mainly. There are, of course, many layers of history on Iona. For example, the Vikings wrecked and pillaged the place several times, the first in 795, killing many monks in the process. There is a palpable aura about the place and I’m so glad to have been able to visit.

We left Oban in the driving rain and took the Cal-Mac ferry to the Isle of Barra, our first stop in the Outer Hebrides. There are two constants in Scottish weather: rain and wind. We’d been supposed to take the 7:00 crossing but it had been cancelled because of high winds. The five-hour trip on the MV Isle of Lewis brought me as close to being seasick as I’ve been in a long time. Jesus was it rough!

From the small port of Castlebay, we drove south a short distance and soon encountered our first single-track road. It’s not enough that I had to drive on the left side of the road, now I had to learn how to drive on a single lane, using the passing areas to meet vehicles going the other way. A rush for me since the road follows all the contours of the landscape and has lots of blind crests and twists and turns. A roller-coaster ride for Elva! Occasionally, I'll hear a little yelp from her and: "Y vient une auto!" She couldn't help herself.

The tiny island of Vatersay, population 90, is about as isolated as it gets but I wanted to see it just the same. We headed north again along the west coast of Barra and toward the ferry crossing that would take us to the next island, Eriskay. Along the way, we marvelled at the beautiful beaches and the barren countryside. Barren except for sheep, that is; they must surely outnumber humans here.

It's a short drive across Eriskay, population 143, and along the way we spotted these semi-wild ponies grazing contentedly by the side of the road. Soon, we were on South Uist and nearing our objective for the day, the Hebridean B&B on the island of Benbecula. Yes, you counted correctly, five islands in one day! After getting settled, we had a nice meal at the nearby Dark Island Hotel. When we came out of the restaurant, we were met by horizontal rain, not an exaggeration!

Having only one full day on the Uists, we headed north toward the small island of Berneray and drove as far as we could until the sign said: “Private Property – Do Not Enter”. Along the way, we saw many pretty pastoral scenes and our first thatched house in the charming village of Berneray. We drove south to the village of Lochmaddy, the ferry terminal on North Uist and had lunch there. I suggested to Elva that if we should ever decide to start over again, I’d like to buy the house in the photo; it looks to me like a nice fixer-upper. Her answer: “Ben tu le feras sans moi!”

Heading south again, we walked through the Langass Woodland, one of only two wooded areas on the seven islands we visited, probably covering no more than thirty acres. A local conservation group helped the Forest Service plant Sitka Spruce and Lodgepole Pine there in 1969. The spruces have done a lot better than the pines, but this little bit of woodland made for a nice after-lunch stroll. 

The two words that best describe the Uists are bleak and barren. The landscape consists of various shades of brown and grey with the odd green field where the land is more fertile and suitable for grazing. There are houses everywhere and just when you think the single-track is going to end, it keeps on going around the next turn and over the next hill. The richness of the landscape makes you want to go to the end of every road, which we did several times. This will likely be our one and only visit to the Uists and the other islands that make up the archipelago, but it was well worth it! Rather than describe the places we went to, I’ll leave you with these scenes.