We left the little island of Berneray thinking of beautiful sea views out our windows, walks through flowery fields of machair, hills with monuments and standing stones, a beach at low tide where we were grateful for good walking boots as we sought dry pathways across streamlets of water returning to the sea, a cow in the front yard of Gaelic singer Duncan MacKinnon’s house, his welcoming kitchen full of stories and songs, a ceilidh dance, and the eye-opening canine and shepherding skills of the sheep dog competition.
We didn’t realize we would be following the trail of the sheep dogs, but there they were in their crates in the back of vans, hatchbacks and pickup trucks, waiting for the ferry from Berneray north to the Isle of Harris. They were headed for their next competition, and we were headed to see mountains, beaches, and the traditional making of Harris tweed.
Below are a couple of the dogs in line for the boat, and on the right, another fellow ferryboat traveler, from a performing group of acrobats, whiling away the wait by doing a feat of strength and balance on a commemorative stone.
Sharing the largest island in Scotland, the Isles of Harris and Lewis are separated not by sea but by geography — the mountains are in Harris, and the dividing line is marked by sea lochs, Loch Reasort and Loch Seaforth, cutting in from both sides, as you can see below.
Above on the right is the convoluted route the ferry has to take between Berneray and Harris, in order to avoid the many shallow spots between small islands scattered between them. Below on left you can see the buoys the ferry had to navigate between. If you look carefully, you can spot a few of the low-lying islands along the route. On the right, a happy traveler (my wife, Laura Scott) on the ferry to Harris. She is wearing a vest she made from Harris tweed that, on a previous trip, I bought from Donald John MacKay. Next week, we’ll pay a visit to Donald John to see how he actually makes the tweed.
The Isle of Harris boasts many contrasts, from beautiful flat beaches to tall ranges of mountains, with sand dunes, flowery machair, sheep, lots of fascinating sea birds, and up Glen Meavaig, an observatory for spotting golden eagles.
Below is a huge field of machair, some sheep we encountered on a walk, and another group of sheep being sheared up in the mountains.
Here you see a sea view from near where we were staying, and on the right, part of our walk to the golden eagle observatory.
In the east of Harris, we walked beautiful mountainous paths and came upon some ruins, part of a settlement that betrayed a sad past. The land could sustain very few in that particular area, but during the Highland Clearances, many had to manage a meager living there for a time.
Below, a sheep surveys its territory from the top of a hill, watching us make our way. On the right, a human surveys the land and sea view as we took a nice long walk to the Eilean Glas (Gray Island) lighthouse, one of hundreds designed and built in some of the most difficult locations all around Scotland by the Stevensons, the family of writer Robert Louis Stevenson.
When we reached the lighthouse, we were fortunate to have with us several prominent geologists who kept us informed of the life history of many of the rocks and land formations we came across. At the lighthouse, they pointed out that the black rock layer the lighthouse was built on had been pushed up millions of years ago from Earth’s mantle. The mantle is the layer of our planet located between 5 and 1800 miles below the surface of the Earth.
The rocks on Harris and Lewis are about 3 billion years old, and have countless tales to tell those who can read their stories.
While on Scalpay, we visited the Gaelic song scholar Morag MacLeod, who was inducted in the Scottish Traditional Music Hall of Fame in 2007 due to her legendary song and story collecting, and her decades of teaching about Gaelic song at the School of Scottish Studies in the University of Edinburgh. She grew up on the island of Scalpay and eventually retired there.
When we got to the beautiful, high, dramatic bridge from the mainland to Scalpay, Dorothy dropped us off and we walked across, braving strong winds and marveling at the view seen below on the right. Morag told us that before the bridge was built, people used to enjoy the regular ferries to the mainland, in large part to see others in the community and catch up on news, but once the bridge went up, people could drive on and off as they wish, isolated in their cars.
During several of our tours to the island, we enjoyed a visit from the great Harris accordionist Iain Angus MacLeod, who we’ll meet and hear next week. One time, he wasn’t available but he helped me track down two fine local young musicians to play for us and tell us about their musical scene. Below, you see Corina MacInnis on harp and accordion, and a friend of hers on fiddle. This was quite a few years ago. My understanding is that Corina still plays music but works as a zookeeper at a safari park.
In south central Harris, we stopped in Rodel to visit St Clement’s Church, built by MacLeod chieftains in 1520 as their burial grounds. This is where Mairi MacLeod of Berneray, the bardess who was an ancestor of Gaelic singer Duncan MacKinnon, was buried in 1707 — apparently face down, according to her wishes, some say as a commentary about a poem she wrote, or as an eternal snub to certain detractors at the time!
The ragged stone wall below shows the view to the sea from St Clement’s Church. I don’t know where on Harris I took the photo on the right; I just liked the shot.
Next time, we’ll have a look at the making of Harris tweed, the beautiful beaches with coral blue water, the home of one of the bests gin in Scotland, and more!
Ed. I'm enjoying all your photos from your travels especially these of the Outer Hebrides. Whatever phobia concerns fear of crossing high bridges over water; I have it! Could never have crossed the one from Harris to mainland. Guess it is good that I never got to go on that particular tour. C. Walker, Pensacola