“Hills”, “Hytter”, Headwinds, Hen Harriers and Honesty shops - thoughts on the Outer Hebrides

The Outer Hebrides were a must for us as we turned to head south from the tip of Scotland. After a couple of months in Norway, we’ve seen some similarities with what we’d seen there.

Hills

The bare hills and rocky landscapes were reminiscent of what we’d seen in Norway albeit at a much lower elevation. Since entering Scotland, Sam has repeatedly told people that we used to think Scotland was hilly but coming here from Norway reframed things for us. There were some sharp climbs on the islands but we never sat there riding a 10% gradient for hours on end. Thankfully. We joked that these were just “hills”.

Headwinds

What the islands lacked in terms of hills they made up for with headwinds. No jokes about adding quotation marks here, except maybe to the term headwinds as applied to what we’d experienced in Norway. We were just off the North Sea and the winds blow in with nothing to weaken them. The prevailing wind is from the south west and that’s the way we were going, so it was tough going as we headed south.

The tent was certainly tested on Harris when a storm rolled in with gusts over 60mph, accompanied by sideways rain. After a little time fretting as we were going to sleep, we shoved our earplugs in and let whatever happen happen. We woke up dry and in one piece (Hilleberg tent 1, storm 0).

We were surprised by the lack of weather warnings for the Outer Hebrides despite seeing the warnings appear for the south/Worcestershire with forecasts of 50-60mph winds. They just get on with it. We’ve heard it referred to as a ‘washing day’ and that folk have special ‘storm pegs’ for such an occasion.

Variety of Islands

The islands changed everyday depending on the weather, but we really noticed a difference in each one as we’ve slowly travelled through. Starting at the ‘capital’ Stornoway in the north was a bit of a shock with a lot of traffic and activity compared to where we’ve been previously. This took a bit of getting used to but understandable as it’s where so many of the main shops, ports and services are for the northern islands. It didn’t take us long to return to the wilderness as we crossed the Pentland Road where we saw almost no-one.

We found Lewis and Harris to be rugged and bleak (this could have been the weather) but also full of natural beauty. North Uist, Benbecula and South Uist were softer, flatter, with a greater percentage of land given to agriculture and crofting. Barra had some incredible white sandy beaches and dunes, with Vatersay being a quiet and remote end to the islands. Although we took some time to travel, there was still more to see (always the way!).

Buildings, black houses and those in disrepair

The buildings and style of buildings had a hint of the Norwegian design and many newer buildings were in the “Scandi-style” with wooden boarding. We noticed that there were a large number of stone buildings, both houses and farm buildings, that were left in ruin and abandoned. Sometimes there was a new house built next to it which was almost certainly due to cost pressures and difficulty making these older stone buildings habitable.

A museum of black houses at Gearrannan was worth a visit and were inhabited up until the early 1970s. One we knew what these looked like, we kept spotting them in the landscape, either with tin roofs or converted into homes or holiday accommodation.

We did check out an estate agents in Ballavanish with the best EPC rating a D with some down to a G - hard going in the winter.

Hytter

Nothing like the huts of Norway, but there were some pretty inventive ‘huts’ along the way…

Wildlife

It was great from the get go! The ferry from Ullapool to Stornoway was fantastic with pods of common dolphins, a whale, gannets, skuas, guillemots alongside the boat. Then onto the islands, where we were treated to golden eagles and white-tailed eagles and hen harriers, alongside an assortment of waders including curlews, oystercatchers, lapwings by the dozen and sandpipers. Waking to the calls of lapwings circling overhead and the warble of a curlew felt like we were fully immersed in nature. Seals were frequent, especially on the east coast of Harris. A real delight and it felt very different from what it felt like the barren highlands.

Crofting/peat/lack of tenancy/monuments

Crofting is central to the life and community of the islands. The small fields (often long and narrow) were a key feature of the landscape as was the harvesting of peat, still an important fuel for many people. Small barns, buildings and sheep pens were all evidence of an active farming culture and heritage.

The importance of crofting, the rights of tenants and the ability for those to make a living off the land for their families was recognised in prominent monuments.

We were taken by the interpretation and stories of those who fought for their rights against landowners which led to the Crofters Holdings Act 1886 and more recently the buyout of the estates and islands by the community. South Uist, Benbecula, and Eriskay were bought by the community from a sporting syndicate in 2006.

Honesty shops

Every couple of miles there were little (or large) honesty shops with things to purchase like eggs, cakes, honey, trinkets and souvenirs. For a while we had no small change, which left us unable to make use of these when grocery shops were few and far between. Though we did have one evening of beach-side cake eating, which was a real treat. We’ve loved the variety of outlets and the kindness of those who are sharing their produce/baking/crafts with others.

Weaving/artists

Stumbling upon artisans and artists has been a real delight. Some also come with coffee and cake which have been very welcome. Hearing from these artists and crafters about their experience of working and living on the islands has given us a real insight into the way of life here. Sam was particularly taken by the pedal-powered mechanical musical instruments (which also weave fine cloth as a byproduct) and their human counterparts.

Community shops/cafes

Brilliant stops along the route that we made good use of. Meeting members of the local community and getting an insight into how the communities rely on somewhere to gather and catch up has been really eye-opening. We are used to living in a village (with two pubs, village hall, school, playing field) where there are lots of opportunities to meet people and say hello to someone. Given the remoteness of the islands and individual houses on the islands, we have heard that people go days without seeing anyone. This must be lonely at times but a chat at the local shop to find out the comings and goings of people and to check-in that all is well, can change someone’s day.

Campsites - or lack of (motorhomes only)

Especially on Lewis and Harris, at the pace we were travelling, we found campsites few and far between. Wild camping is fine for us but sometimes a shower and laundry facilities are needed. In response to the increase in motorhomes and caravans, some of the local community trusts have set up designated camping areas along the route but tents are not permitted despite offering toilets and shower facilities. This pissed us off, frankly.

On Lewis, however, we did stay at a recognised camping area with toilets for a small donation which we were really grateful for. There is a real balance between providing facilities for tourists, the financial cost of doing so and the cost of not doing so (inappropriate parking, disturbance and disruption to local communities). As low impact travellers, we would love to see more tenting opportunities - in the wider UK too!

As we got further south we found more facilities and opportunities for folk in tents. This was welcome as the weather continued to be stormy and we were grateful for facilities where we could sit in a shed/den or inside area out of the wind.

There were these ‘wind from all sides’ shelters dotted about that reminded us of the shelters we had found in Denmark and Norway. Kinda.

Driving standards

As we mentioned, the shock of the traffic in Stornoway was swiftly released by our travels across the Pentland Road where we saw barely a vehicle. This was a single track road with a large number of passing places allowing us to stop and let people by rather than getting stuck behind our bimbling along. We found 99% of drivers to be incredibly patient, waiting behind as we pedalled to the next passing places, waiting in passing places ahead so we could continue cycling and waving and cheerfully shouting encouragement. On the more main roads with two lanes, again we found the vast majority of drivers crossed entirely over the middle white lines and used the full width of the opposite lane, safely giving us the space we needed.

The standard of driving (possibly influenced by the slower pace of life) was really high and we felt really welcomed and comfortable on the roads. I felt this was so important when we were cycling in the poor weather. The wind and rain made it impossible to hear vehicles behind, made looking over your shoulder in big gusts tricky and I had to ride in the centre of the lane to avoid being blown into the verge. We would return for this attitude and would recommend visiting for other cyclists.

Buses/ferries

There were buses and bus stops everywhere. Even in the rural places where in England you’d never encounter a bus, there was a regular service that you could make use of. We didn’t use the buses but met many people who had used them to get around and we did keep meeting them on our journeys! As in Norway, there was also the holy grail of integrated transport…

We did make use of the ferries to get between the islands (and to and from the islands, which we’ll cover in more detail in a later blog). These were run by CalMac and the online booking system worked well for us. There was never a time when we couldn’t book on to the boat we wanted and there was always space for us. I could amend the bookings really easily so that if our plans changed, we could get a later boat or bring forward crossing if the weather looked bad. The ferries were relatively cheap for us as foot passengers and bikes were booked on for free. Staff on the boats were excellent but I had heard about the slow decline in the quality of the service which had affected islanders who rely more heavily on the ferries. In Lochmaddy there was a fantastic exhibition by a local CalMac enthusiast which featured stories from those who worked and used the services 30-40 years ago. Another insight into island life.

One negative was the lack of a waiting space at Castlebay port. Our ferry was brought forward due to poor weather (meaning a 2.45am alarm) and our waiting space was in an exposed area in lashing rain, while most people sat in their metal boxes. There were covered waiting areas at other ports and we’d have loved one at Castlebay.

Off the beaten track

Our rough plan was to follow the Hebridean Way through the islands but we rarely stick to a plan… In actual fact, some of the best bits of the trip were off the Hebridean Way, following our noses (and recommendations - thanks to Rob to Lisa in particular) to other parts of the island. We also used Atlas Obscura a fair bit to guide us on this part of our tour.

Highlights for us:

• The Pentland Road from Stornoway to Carloway on the west coast - quiet, brooding, barren.
• Bosta Beach and the time and tide bell - a quiet road to a stunning beach and view.
• The Golden Road on the east coast of Harris - another quiet and rolling route taking in the coast and coves.
• The Kallin Shell Beach, on Grimsay - just wacky.
• Balashare Beach - great spot for wildlife!

The folk

We met many lovely people on the islands. We will never forget how kind people were to us at times. Like when we rocked up late to the shop and cafe on Barra and they re-opened the kitchen to make sure we were fed. In fact, someone else appeared a while after us and they re-opened the kitchen again! So kind, and damn tasty too.

We had such a wonderful time on the islands. Clearly you don’t do what we have done and go where we have gone if you relish the rapid pace of modern society but it was really refreshing to slot into life at a slower pace. It felt really fitting being on bikes in this environment and we just accepted the stuff we couldn’t experience (because some things were literally only open from 12-3pm on a Thursday) and lean into the things that were available in abundance (like the scenery and wildlife). Having been brought up on Cornwall, Sam felt quite at home discussing life on the islands. In some ways, it must be a harsh reality in the off-season but it must be a remarkable place to spend longer too. We hope to be back.