North Tolsta

No northern lights last night, when we checked activity was low. But wow! What a view this morning. The sky, blue as that on a picture postcard. This morning first stop Stornoway, a place we see on a weather map after the evening news, and somewhere we'd never thought we'd visit.  And besides they have a leisure centre. £1.30 each buys you a shower in your own wet room, with toilet and wash handbasin. So clothes washing as well as bodies.

We didn't want to drive too far today, so chose a spot about fifteen miles north along the coast. On the way we stopped at the ruins of St Columba's UI church, which dates back to the 14^th century.

Near to it, the Aiginis Raiders, Cairn, built to honour families whose farmland was taken from them by estate owners back in 1888.

By early afternoon we'd secured a prime spot in the small car park at North Tolsta beach, a small inlet opened out to a vast white sanded beach that stretched as far as the eye could see. It reminded us of the landing beaches in Normandy, France. A walk down on the beach, the sand marked by the waves was likened to mackerel skin.

The rocks covered in mussels and tiny whelks. Curtains of seaweed hung over them offering camouflage. Amongst the marram grass primroses peppered the sand. We'd chosen a great spot. John had earlier described the outer Hebrides as peaceful. Despite the roar of the surf you were lost in your own thoughts. It was peaceful indeed. 

Received from one of our followers, thanks Dawn x

Barbas, Isle of Lewis

We knew the view would be stunning this morning, and it was, The whole bay was illuminated in the bright morning sunshine. The white sand, flat as a bowling green awaited the footprints of the morning dog walkers. Just off shore a porpoise played. Right Marge, we're off. No nonsense today please. 

We took the slow road passing the bays at Kneep and Reef, stopping at An Suileachan, a monument honouring the nineteenth century, Lewis, land clearances. 

Then on to the Callanish Standing Stones where we ate freshly baked fruit scones whilst enjoying views towards East Loch Roag. Next stop on our tourist trail, The Black Houses at Gearrannan. for the first time, Angela was a concession!

There are some advantages to getting older. We spoke with one of the guides who explained about the 1920's loom used by the crofters to weave Harris tweed, and showed us inside one of the houses restored to how it would have been originally. The village and house were used as a film location in the 2019 Christmas episode of Call the Midwife. 

Overnight locations are few and far between in this area. We headed to Port of Ness, stopping along the way to look at the whale jaw bone of an eighty-foot blue whale found harpooned and beached at Bragar bay in 1920. 

At Port of Ness there was parking above the harbour, but one of the vans that was with us last night at Cliff had already taken the best spot. Not too keen on being on a slope above the harbour with wind speeds of 27 mph forecast Angela wanted to move somewhere else. So, we did, and it turned out to be for the best.

Barbas bay, what a location. As we marvelled at its beauty a car pulled into the small parking area. The driver, the lady who worked in the shop at the Callanish Standing Stones. Small world. Her husband told us the northern lights would appear tonight which excited us and the owner of the other van here with us. But when we looked on the internet it said a sighting tonight was unlikely. So, we'll just have to wait and see. The oyster catchers outside are in noisy conversation, perhaps they know something we don't.

Cliff, Isle of Lewis

We knew the view would be spectacular this morning. The sea of clearest blue cleaned the wind whipped sands. Time to take the road back, Marge, and yes there will be cows to negotiate. Right on cue they sat in silent protest as they saw us approach. Marge squeezed by, almost touching one, but thankfully not, they were big beasts. After a slow drive up steep inclines in low gears, Marge wasn't happy. Why have you gone into safe mode? We stopped, investigated and she did it again. Thankfully, the rest of the day passed uneventfully. 

Our drive took us to Gallan Head, the most north west point of the outer Hebrides. A former deserted  MOD site greeted us along with scruffy houses and rubbish, What a dump! The cafe, called the Edge was recommended in one of our guide books. Angela ventured in. The woman she spoke to was rude, and seemingly not really interested in customers. 'We don't advertise we're here, we like to keep ourselves to ourselves'. O.K. Good business plan. We drove off! We felt like we were in the bad lands as we negotiated roads across peat bogs and around small lakes looking for an escape route.

Cliff, our overnight stop was a welcome sight. Parking on the machair right above the beach, it was like paradise. Five pounds in the donation box was all that was required to enjoy this beautiful place. We settled Marge and walked up onto the cliffs, sitting for a while to look back down onto the bay. What a view. And yes Marge we can see you down there. 

Husninish, Isle of Harris

We were excited this morning. Today we would sail from Uig in the north of Skye to Tarbert on the Isle of Harris, Outer Hebrides. Some people say, they don't feel they're on holiday if they haven't arrived on an aeroplane. Angela, feels you must take a ferry. Our French neighbours, pleased to see the sun was shining left to visit the Talisker distillery before driving to the Fairy Pools. Portree was quiet as we walked into town. The lull before the storm. In the summer half a million people descend on Skye. We could only imagine the chaos.

Vans were already at Uig for the ten past two sailing. After deliberating how much time we wanted to spend on Harris and Lewis we booked the ferry that would take us across to North Uist for April 23rd. The young man in the van in front of us couldn't keep his eyes of Marge. That suited her just fine. With time to kill he proceeded to spray white touch up paint to cover rust spots on the roof of his van. As you do. No, you don't! Marge what are those white spots over your bonnet, headlights and windscreen. Awkward. John was not best pleased. Fortunately the nearby garage sold T-cut which the young man paid for and the clean-up began. As the light faded this evening John was still trying to shift the offensive marks. All a little bit embarrassing, as the culprit is parked just across from us by the beach. 

Harris was a shock. It seemed a little wild. We'd decided to drive to Husninish bay for our first night. Here you pay ten pounds, there are toilets and showers at one pound for three minutes. Of course, John needed two pounds worth. Angela however can wash herself, leggings, socks and pants in two and a half minutes. Show off! No Marge, organised. 

A twelve-mile drive across a dry barren landscape on a narrow road which steep sided lochs, hills, bends and passing places we felt like we're on our way to the end of the world. And of course, livestock. Sheep in the road, to be expected.

Highland cattle with no intention of moving, well the drive just got more interesting. Marge inched by, worried one of the cows might kick out. As we brushed the tail of the last one, we all breathed a sigh of relief. Was this a good idea to drive this way? Then as Marge crested the final hill we stopped to look and photograph.

A bay of white sand, rocky outcrops and scattered seaweed lies before us. Suddenly the drive was forgotten. Well, until tomorrow morning when we have to do it all in reverse, hopefully minus the cows. 

Marge is in an amazing spot, side on to the beach. As the light fades more white sand is exposed by the receding tide, We are hoping tomorrow will dawn sunny and really showcase this beautiful area.

Portree

Yesterdays travelling had been hard, but this morning we were glad we had pressed on and were now on the Isle of Skye.

The morning views across the Kyle of Lochalsh towards the bridge and across the harbour to Moil castle were pleasing after arriving in the dark yesterday evening. First though we needed to book a ferry ticket across to Harris so we drove down to the ferry terminal at Armadale to ask them to help. Because of the disruption to services due to the overhaul of the ageing fleet, we basically accepted the ferry times and destinations we were offered. So tomorrow early afternoon we sail from Skye to Harris. Our return sailing on April 25th is from North Uist, with another ferry needing to be booked to take us across from Harris to the Uists's. Nothing's easy, is it?

Having visited Skye a few times now, we had no need to see the sights. As we drove towards Portree we could see the Old man of Storr precariously perched on a steep rocky face that overlooks the Sound of Raasay.

We have walked up to it three times in the past. We did not fancy a fourth.

Instead, we settled Marge in one of the overnight campervan parking spaces in the centre of the town and walked out to the Scorrybreac trail, a walk of just under two miles. Nearly everyone we met was walking towards us. Of course, we, unaware why, were walking the trail anti-clockwise.

There are quite a few steps to climb when you round the corner, we were informed by two ladies. A few steps, so what. After an ascent of nearly 550 feet, wheezing and gasping, we sat on a well placed seat to admire the view. Angela had felt she needed a walk out to ease her aches and pains. Tonight, she'll probably find she's added to them. 

We have vans from Holland and France here with us tonight, so we expect it to be quiet. Into the unknown tomorrow, Marge. Let's hope the fine weather forecast holds and we don't end up marooned in the Outer Hebrides.