ISLE OF HARRIS

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Our Harris pphotos start at number 46.

K and N: From Clach Toll we headed south to Ullapool. After the storm, the sea was taking a long time to settle. The heather was fading and the temperatures autumnal. You realise how short the summer is so far North. Bill always says how he likes to follow the spring up through France and England and I thought we should be following what’s left of summer down. And I’m missing trees. Hearing how dry East Anglia’s been this summer, we were mulling over the Norfolk Broads for our next expedition! We stayed overnight in the comfort of The Ceilidh Place, then caught the morning ferry to Stornaway on the Isle of Lewis. In mid-Minch a dolphin leapt up behind the boat then it and several others went arcing away across the water. Fifty miles west and we had arrived. We drove down through the fog and peaty moorlands of Lewis to our latest base: Traigh Horgabost. Harris, like much of the North-West Scotland, is famous for its sandy beaches sprinkled with fragments of shells but on Harris they’re truly breathtakingly vast with a backdrop of sweeping dunes and rocky mountains.
Whilst here, we have seen wonderful Hebridean sunsets. We haven’t been wet for 11 days now and the shipping forecast talks of wind speeds of 3 and 4 not 6 and 7. Even more marvellous than the sunsets is the night sky when it’s clear: the stars are huge and dazzling illuminating the mist draped round the mountains.

We have met many warm and welcoming local people whilst we’ve been here but as is apparent on Orkney, Scottish people are very interested in their roots, and newspapers reflect this. Another expert on DNA speaking here last week apparently had the unenviable task of telling a Scottish audience that we English are as Celtic as they are! We both have 80% Celtic DNA! Just think- Elloughton Newsagents could be stocking Celtic Harp Melodies and tartan souvenirs! We especially enjoyed meeting the Visser family from Rotterdam who fell in love with Harris’s unique character ten years ago and have recently settled here. They were kind enough to invite us to their home at Northton for tea and chocolate and to share their enthusiasm for island life. They have three holiday cottages to let, which Jan and son Bart have done up beautifully, and can be contacted at beachviewcottages@hotmail.com. Suzan is a portrait artist.

N: Sunday evening and Monday morning’s coastguard weather forecast were favourable for a two day paddle with a night on The Isle of Taransay. You may recall Taransay was featured on TV in 2000 with a program called Castaway, where a diverse group of people were put on the deserted island for a year to see how they would survive. Apparently the cast stayed many nights in the Harris Hotel in Tarbert! The remnants of the buildings and infra-structure are still in evidence, along with a discarded tractor on the beach and a broken down quad bike. There is also much evidence of the thriving community that was once there up to the last remaining family that left 20 years ago. The island is 1.6 miles across the Sound of Taransay from our beach side site to the closest point, but is exposed enough for us to need a good weather window. We crossed the water Monday afternoon setting off at about low tide, 3:45 pm, and as usual were met by the official welcome party of seals- or are they customs officers? We explored one of the back to back beaches at Uidh that nearly divide the island into two. There is a rather rundown bothy that offers some shelter and contains fuel, food that may have been there for years and some flares that are at least 20 years out of date! We then headed off to Paibeil for our night camp and found a beautiful spot on the edge of a sand dune over looking the bay late afternoon. The Deer on the hill watching our every move. Anyone who has sea paddled will know that with all your camping gear, food, water, sleeping bags and clothes stashed away in your boat they are very heavy so it was a struggle for the two of us to carry the boats up the beach, past the high tide line. We tied them to the abandoned tractor (just to be sure), then set up the tent, cooked and enjoyed tea of corned beef hash and then went for a walk and finally settled down for the night. When camping after a sea paddle though everything feels sticky and damp, the salt in the water is hydroscopic and absorbs water from the atmosphere so in the damp air never dries out.
High tide would be about 4:35 am!!
The night was very dark and quiet, the only sound being the distant wash of the wave on the beach, but when you stir at 1:30 in the morning the waves sound gigantic, and close, so we both got out and shone our head torches towards the sea to make sure the boats were ok, not being able to see anything we went back to bed. 4:00am, I just had to get up, the waves sounded like they were on the doorstep, shorts, boots and a tee shirt on I headed off to the boats with my head torch, sure enough the boats were safe, but you just have to make sure!
Tuesday came, a bit misty but pleasant so we walked across the island passing many lazy-beds to Loch an Duin, the largest loch on the island where there is a prehistoric dun or fort on an island which is approachable only by a stone causeway with a rattling stone to give warning of an intruder. On the way back we met a trapper who had been dropped on the island with his colleagues to catch wild Mink, they use traps in the streams, and are part of a programme to eradicate the Mink that are an unnatural pest. With a forecast of a stiffening breeze in the afternoon we set off back, but still got caught by an increasing tail wind, once again we surged and surf paddle home.
Hot showers, warm clothes and a good drying wind for our freshly rinsed off gear made a very pleasant end to the journey, we sat and read and over looked the sea into the evening.