Day 15 -- Thursday, the 10th July
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| Fruit salad (prunes at last!) |
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| Full Scottish (me) |
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| Kipper and poached egg (JS) |
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| Non-full Scottish (adc) |
Following a delicious breakfast at the B&B, we head to the harbour for a boat trip around the castle. It is not very clearly indicated, but we manage. Also, Castlebay is not exactly the Hudson Bay. Nothing is very far.
The two hardened seamen who take us round are full of good jokes and anecdotes ("The castle dates from the 12th century. It was home to pirates who would fleece the CalMac ferries.") They are also seemingly a little frustrated, with their initiatives often ignored, they say, and alternatives implemented that make no sense from their perspective ("We just do what we're told, now.") All in all, it is a cracking time. The whole takes less than half-an-hour too, inclusive of life-vest manoeuvres.
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| Kisimul Castle from the water |
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| Sponsored by Praban na Linnhe |
From there, we drive north. See, the weather is finally stable enough for planes to touch down in Barra. The airport is as big and busy as an airport can be on an island such as Barra. We do manage to find a place to park from where we have a good view on the strip -- which doubles up as a beach, when planes are not flying. This is the only scheduled beach landing in the world, you know.
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| Uh-oh! |
The landing is impressive. It is not only a beach landing, it is a wet-beach landing. Splashing everywhere.
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| Ogling the horizon |
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| It even scares the Eriskay ferry away |
Passengers alight and take selfies in front of the plane. Without surprise, it is quite the attraction for everyone.
With the excitement dissipating and the plane docked until take-off we do not know when, we rush to the ferry terminal nearby in the hope that the café next to it (Ardmhòr Coffee) will have pastries. We arrive nine minutes before they close. We order drinks and two of the last four pastries. Other people are pouring in, now. Glad we beat the rush and the depletion.
From there, we spot the plane taking off again in the distance. Then, we drive to Heabhal / Heaval, close to Castlebay. JS has selected a hike which is essentially a straight line to the top of Barra's highest hill.
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| Castlebay from Heaval |
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| Up Heaval |
The weather is clogged up, foggy with low visibility and intermittent rain. The ground is very boggy. We are determined to take advantage of our last walk, though! adc calls it quits a third in, but JS and I continue. I give adc the car keys, in case she gets tired of waiting for us to come back, and urge caution on the way down: it is slippery and easy to get lost, because of the fog.
We make it to the top in one piece, even if I am worried about the visibility. The view from the top is... non-existent. It adds an eerie sense of desolation only heightened by the ferocious wind. Worthy of a horror film, if one lets one's imagination run free. JS pushes on to try and find the advertised statue of Mary and Child, while I explore the summit. When done, I try to catch up with JS. Nowhere to be found (my range of sight is circa five metres, mind). I scream her name; in that wind, no answer, of course. I gather that she started descending back to the car and take the trail back down at pace. No-one to be seen. Worried that she will come back to the top after all, but also worried that adc has been waiting for a while, I climb back to the top. Seconds later, JS appears. Phew. No statue, though.
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| The views from the top are incredible |
We start our descent. The path we took on the way up is virtually invisible. As we try to sidestep the puddles and bogs, we end up on a cornice. Out of nowhere, the statue of Mary and Child appears on our right.
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| Staring into the cotton |
We backtrack and climb down, leaving the cornice to our left. Knowing that it is there, I realise we walked past the statue on the way up. Ten metres away, and we saw nothing. Even now, closer still, it is but a blurry outline in the fog.
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| Case in point, tOMoH is on the right; try spotting the statue on the left |
We continue going down and still cannot find the path. I worry that adc is still where we left her and we will end up at the car park without seeing her. I am mentally preparing to go back up our initial path to fetch her, after hitting the car. I do not have the car keys, for the record. Wet and disoriented, we reach the car park. adc is in the car. Phew number two.
Following a quick debrief, we head to the Community Hall, since the girls have not seen the Kisimul Castle exhibition yet.
The Historic Environment Scotland regional manager is on site, today. I chat with his colleague and him while my co-travellers look around.
Our next destination is Vatersay, the southernmost inhabited island in the Western Isles.
We call at the Catalina Memorial, where a PBY crashed in 1941. There is a plaque and, incredibly, a large part of the seaplane's carcass. Eighty-four years later, and it has not been scavenged beyond recognition.
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| This little guy observes from a branch |
Our next stop is Traigh a Bhaigh, a beautiful beach that is as crowded as it gets around here.
Soothed by the calmness of the turquoise sea, we continue to the hamlet at the end of the road. There, besides a handful of houses, is a bus stop and just enough space to turn around. Which we do.
Between the Catalina Memorial and the causeway, I stop to allow the postie to overtake us. He is obviously on a tight schedule, and I am in no rush. A couple of humps and turns later, he has stopped in the middle of the road and is out of his van: he smashed into two immature geese and is now disposing of the bodies by the wayside as one throws rubbish bags into a skip. One is still moving, in agony. The tarmac is dotted with warm organs. He drives off. I do not know what to do. When it is clear the birds are another bird's next meal, we resume our course. Needless saying the incident has killed our mood as well as two birds.
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| Probably the last pictures of the birds alive |
At the B&B, it is time to pack and freshen up. JS orders our supper.
We hop into the automobile again and drive to Borve (there are almost as many Borve as there are Tarbert, in this country) to collect our pizzas from Joan's Barra Pizza. We then park a little further, in a car park facing the ocean. It somehow restores our spirit to some extent.
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| A body of water separated from the ocean by a sandbank |
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| Vegetarian pizza |
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| Stornoway Black Pudding pizza |
Back to town. Fish Box Kitchen is still open and my fear of missing out is itching. They have this Monkfish Wrap that tempted me, yesterday. They also have a Cranacotta (exactly what you think it is) that would work a treat for dessert. adc longs for bed. JS says it is too soon for dessert. Fish Box will close in thirty minutes or so, so that rules it out.
When dessert time strikes, we head to Café Kisimul. It is busy AF. Busier than last night, even. We are made to sit outside, when we only want a dessert, ha! ha!
Our ice creams come quickly, we eat them quickly. We are not as impressed as last night (it is no longer a surprise, of course), but it was worth another visit all the same.
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| Wee Isle Dairy ice cream (me) chocolate (top) raspberry (left) bramble & peat (back) |
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| Wee Isle Dairy ice cream (JS) honeycomb (top) buckwheat honey (bottom) |
Back up the hill for an early night. Tomorrow is a long day of travelling.
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