ON THE VERY NORTH OF THE ISLE OF LEWIS, SCOTLAND

The Callanish Standing Stones on the Isle of Lewis

For years I've known about the Standing Stones in the north of Scotland and today I visited this 5000 year old site. It is located on the top of a fat peninsula that juts out into a large sea loch on the northwest coast of the Isle of Lewis. The day was overcast and grey – moody, misty, and mysterious. The site is huge, one of the most significant in Europe with a central circle (above) and stones that

radiate out east, west, north and south in a cross. The stones have defeated archeologists' ideas of what they were for or represented. That the site is powerful and sacred to its builders is not in doubt. In 3000+ BCE, the weather was warmer and the sea levels lower. The land and sea teemed with game, fish, and shellfish, and supported many individuals. When the stones were discovered 1.5m of peat had to be excavated to reveal them. There are times every 18.6 years when the moon appears to dance along the stones. Some gneiss stones have weathered into strange, striated shapes. I saw many visitors touching or stroking them.

The experience here was eerie, enigmatic, and set the hairs up on the nape of my neck.  Silent, sacred maybe, and certainly amazing.

The village lies above a cove
on the Atlantic coast

Next up was the restored Black House village at Gearranan up the coast. This has been a village since the 1700s and supported twenty weavers of Harris Tweed in the 1950s who were also crofters. As the younger generations left to pursue a different lifestyle, the inhabitants aged to the point that they had to be relocated.


The village was eventually restored and now has four or five self-catering thatched cottages with all mod cons and two are interpretive centres. One cottage has been returned as it was in the 50s, and when I saw it, a peat fire was burning in the grate. There were two small bedrooms, and a living room/ kitchen. I didn't see a bathroom, so assume the privy was out back.









The peat burns slowly and produces a huge heat. Once the three foot stone walls have warmed up, they radiate the heat back into the living space. Peat is still cut and dried here on the Isle of Lewis for fuel and there was a huge stack of it outside, as well as the hand cart used to carry it back to the village. It smells strong and I found it unpleasant, but had to remind myself that peaty water is what makes whisky great.

On the other side of the cottage's low front door, is the working space/workshop with a pig sty, and today it had a weaver working at the mechanized loom. Once set up to make the tweed, the weaver just works two pedals rather like a bike. He also demonstrated the mechanized wool spinner. The tweed roll was growing daily and was the colour of early autumn bracken – golden orange.

The other cottage that is open to the public has explanations and photos of the previous era. It also shows a film about how Harris Tweed is made by crofters. Most of it is made in their homes. It is an incredibly complex job to set up the loom, then it is relatively easy to peddle away and see the cloth grow.

I wanted to see much more of the northwest coast of Lewis, but wasn't over my bad cold and needed some extra rest. Tomorrow I leave Scotland with much regret and cannot recommend the Hebrides highly enough. They are fascinating isles, all with a distinct character, friendly citizens, and some of the best seafood I ever eaten.

IMAGES: © Photos by Pharos 2014. All rights reserved.

ISLES OF HARRIS AND LEWIS – IN FOG

I couldn't believe it when I woke this morning. Sun gone and replaced with pea soup fog. I s'pose it was not surprising given the heat yesterday and the much cooler night that followed.

I drove to the ferry on the Isle of Berneray to learn that the first ferry of the day couldn't make it across to Harris. "Be prepared to wait, take much longer than an hour, or to turn round half way across," a crew member told me. As it happened the captain decided to give it a go and left on time with a double load. He must have sweated blood navigating through islets, skerries, and sandbanks, which is known to be difficult enough in good visibility. He made it too, only five minutes late. We saw lots of sea birds – eider ducks, Great Northern Divers (loons to Canadians), shags, and some eagles.

I decided to go the wild and winding route to Tarbert along the southeast shore. The fog made me go slower than usual over this tortuous road. It was narrower and more up and down than I had driven so far. Sheep were all over the road. Harris is so completely different from the Uists. It's rockier and much more hilly. Granite boulders litter the land.

About noon the sun began to break through the gloom and I could see the sea lochs that I was driving around all the way north to Tarbert. I was headed for two Harris Tweed shops out in the wilds. Found them too, but they charged more than twice the price than the bigger centres for the same products.  Found a third at Plocipol that was much better, but didn't have the colour I wanted. They guided me to their big Tarbert store, about five miles further on where we had planned to eat a late lunch.

On the way we saw these lochs with the hint of big mountains to come. They were beautiful in their autumn colours.

I found the perfect Harris Tweed jacket in the colour of heather and bought it, along with a tiny kilt for my granddaughter age two and a half.

Here is a shot taken on one of the roads showing the sign indicating a slight
widening where vehicles can pass. I have Honda Fit, very small. It is the width of this secondary road. You can also see that a driver often cannot see a car coming over the top of the rise until you get there. I was not out of second gear the whole way from Leverburgh where the ferry docks to Tarbert. It can be unnerving when you meet a semi or a tour coach on one of these single-track roads.

After Tarbert driving north to Stornaway, the landscape changes dramatically to huge mountains, glens, and inland lochs. This main road is two lanes and a fast drive. Sometimes the drop on one side was 1000 feet and sheep wandered freely. These sheep are bred for their wool for tweed and are sheared twice a year.

My guest house is on the east of Stornaway by the airport so I decided to avoid the bustling town of 9000 citizens on this referendum day. Braighe House is just before the causeway to the Eye Penisula and has a view of the Scottish mainland and the north of Skye. It is a very upmarket B&B run by a delightful young couple.

The fog suddenly lifted at dusk and I'm hopeful my planned adventure around the northern tip of the Isle of Lewis tomorrow will have clear weather before I fly to Iceland on Saturday morning.

IMAGES: © Photos by Pharos 2014. All rights reserved.