A walk to Start Point Lighthouse

I called in the community shop in the village of Lady (great name for a village) to stock up on muesli and ask if anyone knew where I could find tidal times for Start Point as I wanted to walk across to the island and lighthouse. No-one knew but a customer googled on her phone and was able to tell me the times for Kettletoft pier which is fairly close and so probably similar. 

The low tide was happening right now so I jumped in the van and headed north. I squeezed between 2 cars and set off down the track just as it started raining. At the end of track I met an older couple and presumably their son on the beach making their way back to the track. They'd tried to get out to the lighthouse but given up because of how slippery it was.

I picked my way over the beach and soon reached the slippery rocks. Several times I thought I was going to have to give up and turn back but perserverance paid off and I managed to find a way through the rocks, seaweed, slime to get to a stretch of water that I waded through getting my sandals and the bottoms of my trousers completely soaked.

Reaching the island, I headed to the right round some derelict buildings and almost made it to the lighthouse. Unfortunately I was stopped by a wall and an electric fence. I was dubious over whether the fence was electric or not, as there were no warning notices and no sign of anything to power the fence. I gingerly touched it and it was fine. Great, I thought and touched it again to make sure. Ouch! The shock went right to my upper arm. I've never felt an electric fence shock so strongly and I wondered if it had anything to do with my rubber soled shoes being so completely water-logged.

I back-tracked and then tried to walk round the other side of the island. This seemed more do-able but I came to a gate that was seriously tied up and would have needed climbing over. I was about to do this, but couldn't really see if the way was passable up ahead and I was concerned about the tide and how long it might take me to pick my way back through the slime.

I decided I was happy with what I'd done - I'd made it across to a tidal island and had a good wander round, and I could see the lighthouse, looking like a gigantic Everton mint, from where I was anyway.

I turned round and slipped and slid my way back to the beach and the track leading back to my car.

A few facts

Start Point was built in 1806 by engineer Robert Stevenson, grandfather of writer Robert Louis Stevenson. It was the first Scottish lighthouse to have revolving light. At the time this meant it was easily distinguishable from other lighthouses. It's still just as distinguishable today due to it having been painted with vertical black and white stripes in 1915, thus giving it its current elongated Everton mint appearance.

Warning

I rinsed my walking sandals out thoroughly with fresh water to get rid of the salt. As they dried they began to really stink. The smell got so bad I had to seal them in a plastic bag. I've since put them through the washing machine and they smell slightly better, but not much. They've been wet before and it hasn't been a problem so I think it must be from whatever was in that water I waded through. So if you are intending to do this walk, wear either wellies or shoes you don't care about!











 

Toilets and showers in the Outer Hebrides

I thought the following might be useful for anyone planning a trip round the Outer Hebrides this summer in which they're intending to wild camp most of the time. If you are staying in official accommodation your showering and toileting needs will be sorted for you, but if not then make a note of the info below. And if anyone has any more to add, please leave a note in the comments. The prices are from the summer of 2012 and are correct to the best of my memory.

Barra - toilets at the village hall in Castlebay (not open until about 9am and closed early evening) and also at the ferry terminal in Castlebay (but only open when the waiting room is open around the time of ferries). Showers in the sports centre in Castlebay (£1.05)

Vatersay - toilets in the village hall. Walk round the outside of the building to the left.

Eriskay - toilets and showers at the ferry port (24 hours, showers are £1)

South Uist - toilets and showers near the tourist office in Lochboisdale (showers £1)

Benbecula - toilets and showers in the sports centre (showers are £1.05. The centre is closed on Tuesdays)

North Uist - toilets by the harbour and also in the museum in Lochmaddy. Showers at the Lochmaddy Hotel but I don't know the price.

Baleshare - no facilities

Berneray - toilets are at the ferry port (24hrs). Showers and toilets by the harbour about a mile from the ferry port (closed at 9pm, showers £1)

Harris - toilets at the ferry port in Leverburgh (24 hrs). Toilets and showers in the bus station in Tarbert, not sure of the opening hours. (Showers 50p)

Lewis - toilets and shower at the Kinloch Historical Centre in Laxay near Stornoway (24hrs, showers 50p), also at the sports centre in Stornoway (£1.05). There are also public toilets by the yacht harbour and car park but there is a charge and they are not open 24hrs. There are toilets in the ferry port where the ferries leave for Ullapool.

St Kilda - toilets at the back of the shop

Also the ferry from Oban to Barra has showers, but the Stornoway to Ullapool ferry doesn't.

The Black House

By Peter May

This is the first in a trilogy of murder mysteries set on Lewis, the largest and most northerly island in the Outer Hebrides. Black houses were the stone dwellings lived in by people across the islands until relatively recent times. They were known as 'black' houses because the fire in the middle of the main room and lack of ventilation led to them being constantly filled with smoke. The white houses that came along later were basically modern houses, with a hearth and chimney to allow the smoke to escape.

Edinburgh detective Fin Macleod is sent to investigate a brutal murder in the north of the island. He is chosen firstly because he is investigating a similar murder in Edinburgh and it's possible it's the same killer, and secondly because he is originally from the village in which the killing has taken place and speaks Gaelic.

Through a series of flashblacks told in the first person we learn about Fin's early life on the island. These are intertwined with the present day investigation which is told in the third person. As secrets from the past are revealed Fin is dragged personally into the case.

The local men are about to leave on their traditional annual guga hunt. Guga are young gannets and as seabirds are protected under British law. However, an exception is made allowing the men of Ness to carry out their hunt once a year as it is seen as an important local tradition originating in times when the guga would have provided essential food throughout the winter when the weather was too bad for fishing.

The men are going to Sula Sgeir, a desolate rock out in the Atlantic. Once there they will be cut off from the mainland for 14 days until the fishing boat that delivered them, returns to collect them. The time on the weather beaten rock consists of long days of hard work and primitive living conditions. Fin took part in the guga hunt the summer before he left for university and knows full well what it entails. In the story his old schoolfriend's son is about to make his first trip.

The book provides quite an accurate description of the tradition with just a few details changed - the number of men who take part is increased from ten to twelve in the novel, and the rock is never actually referred to as Sula Sgeir. Wanting to know more about the tradition I googled it and came up with this BBC web page  based on a documentary made a couple of years ago by Mike Day. The page includes a series of short videos which were quite interesting and helped me to see how close the book was to the reality.

Did I like this book? Yes, for the knowledge of the guga hunt I gained and yes it was an entertaining story. I didn't like the switching from first to third person, though I could see the reason for this (kind of). I also wouldn't class it as one of the best books I've read in this genre, but it's certainly not the worst and so I probably will read the rest of the trilogy.

St Kilda in a Day

When I first thought about going to St Kilda I didn't think about a day trip. In the absence of having my own yacht and not having the kayaking abilities to paddle my way out there (yes, some people do) I'd decided the only way to get to St Kilda would be to join a National Trust for Scotland working party and go for a week or two. However, in spite of these being quite expensive, they are still allegedly very popular and hence difficult to get on to. What makes it almost impossible for me though, is the time of year. The working parties are pretty much finished by the time English schools break up for the summer holidays.

Not wanting to let a simple thing like fixed holiday times get in the way of my ambitions I looked around for alternatives and after meeting someone in Unst last year who'd been for a day, decided that maybe a day trip wouldn't be such a bad idea after all.

During my time in the Hebrides I've been trying to get myself booked onto a tour with one particular company. It's always a bit touch and go whether the trips go ahead or not, because they are very weather dependent. If one trip is cancelled the people booked on to it get taken out the next day meaning no free spaces for other people. A spate of windy weather seemed determined to prevent me from going. But then another company said they had room and the chances of actually going were pretty good on the day they were offering me.

The night before I drove out to the small pier at Miavaig in the Uig area of Lewis. I set up camp beside the office which conveniently had a toilet and wash basin round the back. I got everything ready for the next morning and settled down to sleep. I'd not been asleep long when I woke feeling a bit headachey and queasy. Not the best feeling at any time, and certainly not before such a big day.

By morning the headache had gone but I still felt a bit sickly. Hmm, what to do for the best when feeling a bit sick? Stay in bed, rest and relax? Or get on a little boat and spend 4hrs being tossed and churned as you crash your way across the Atlantic? Of course the only choice I really had was the latter. If I didn't go today, I wouldn't be going at all. 

Before it got rough

The other passengers arrived, about a dozen of us in all, and after re-arranging cars on the pier we boarded The Lochlann. I strapped myself into a seat and prepared for the worst. Once out at sea the roller-coaster started in earnest. The boat felt as though it was being plucked up high and then being dropped from said great height. Each time this happened the 'BANG' as the boat hit the sea and the reverberations through my body lifted me out of my seat. If it wasn't for the seat belt I'd have repeatedly hit my head on the roof. I tried to sit with my eyes closed willing the horrible feeling in my stomach to go away. No chance. I've never been sea-sick before and I have been on some tiny boats on some pretty rough water. But then again, I've not got onto a tiny boat on pretty rough water whilst already feeling sick.


My guts had no chance of recovering and at one point I had to stagger to the deck to lean over and throw up. I wanted to rush, but it's a bit hard when you're getting thrown from side to side and have to plan each move to ensure at least 3 limbs are firmly planted at all times. If I didn't have sympathy for people who suffer with sea-sickness before, I certainly do now.

One highlight of the otherwise dismal trip was seeing a shoal of tuna leaping and swimming in front of the boat. Even I stood up to get a look and watch them for a while. The tuna were dolphin sized, and look nothing like they do in a tin. Having seen them, I can understand how the nets used to catch tuna also manage to snag dolphins. I don't understand how the dolphin friendly tuna nets work though - how do they manage to keep the dolphins out? As a veggie I don't buy tuna anyway, but have wondered why next to the 'dolphin friendly' label that can be seen on some tins of tuna, there isn't another label next to it saying 'tuna unfriendly'? Apparently it's quite unusual to see tuna so close like this so we were very lucky.

St Kilda slowly came into sight and we could make out people sitting around on the jetty. These turned out to be students who were on some kind of placement on the island. We decanted ourselves into a dinghy and travelled the last tiny bit to the pier. Once we were all on dry land we were met by the warden who gave us a chat about dos and don'ts and told us about what there was to do on the island.

This would have been someone's living room

I set off for a wander, still feeling queasy. I had hoped to walk up to at least one side of the cliffs but didn't really feel up to it. Instead I wandered round the derelict village, poking in and out of the old houses. They were mostly laid out in one main street and in between the derelict building were a few restored ones which were used for accommodation and a museum. I spent a while in the museum finding the exhibits and the information provided quite fascinating. 

The MOD, as part of a long-running arrangement, have workers based on the island and their accommodation and offices are in green painted buildings near the pier. Maybe these could be said to be an eyesore and spoil the antiquity and isolation of the island, but the MOD have played such an important role on the island I'd like to think that in future years these buildings and their role will be seen as just as relevant to the history of the island as the remains from the St Kildans are.

 









A helicopter landed and took off whilst I watched. The unique St Kildan sheep roamed around, birds flew or skittered across the ground, the sun shone, a perfect day. If only I could have enjoyed it more.

We had a stay of a few hours on the island and this was plenty of time to have a really good look round the village and museum and would also have given me time to go for a bit of a walk had I felt so inclined. Just before the boat was due to leave, the warden opened the shop which sells souvenirs of St Kilda as well as a range of books. Next to the shop is the restored school (one classroom) and church and I had time to have a look round them. 

The Museum

The Church

The School

Once back on the boat we circled the island and went out to a couple of the stacks to look at the birds before heading back for Lewis. It was much later that evening before I started to feel alright again. 

I managed to enjoy my day on St Kilda even if I wasn't feeling great. It's such a special place and felt like such an achievement to get there, that even an upset stomach couldn't put too much of a dampner on things. I doubt I'll ever get back, so I'm glad I didn't decide to give it a miss, as I now have memories that will last me a life time. 


The Details

Company I travelled with: Seatrek
Cost: £180
Depart: 7.30am
Arrive back: 8pm
Time on Hirta: approx. 3.5hrs.


Here's a copy of the press release Seatrek issued regarding the tuna we saw. I've copied it in rather than just linking to it, in case it later disappears off their website.

Shoal of Tuna off Lewis

Press Release 30th Aug, Seatrek Tuna Sighting West of Lewis On one of our regular day trips to St Kilda on the 24th of August 2012, our Seatrek vessel, the  motor cruiser Lochlann, sighted an unusually large and concentrated flock of diving gannets. We decided to go over and investigate, fully expecting to find the usual dolphins feeding on a shoal of herring.  We told the passengers to get their cameras ready for the spectacle of diving birds and jumping dolphins and possibly minke whales. We very often see diving gannets in a feeding frenzy as they can spot the fish from a great height. The gannets are helped by dolphins, which herd the fish to the surface. The leading edge of the diving gannets was unusually fast moving at 5 knots, and as we closed in we could see the fast moving splashes among them. We were amazed to see the characteristic upright, thin forked tails of tuna darting through the water. Some were coming to within 10m of us and you could see they were about 6/7 ft long, maybe more. The sight was amazing. The furiously diving gannets were accompanied by fulmars, skuas, manx shearwaters, sooty shearwaters, black backed gulls and herring gulls, all looking for a piece of the action. We watched them enthralled for some time and thought they were possibly Bluefin Tuna;  such an unusual wildlife sighting we had never experienced before so close at hand. The next shoal was moving much faster, say 10 knots to the SW and zigzagging with birds showing their whereabouts when near the surface. The tuna were about the same size. Earlier in the day we had seen a handful of smaller Bonito type, 2ft long, just East of Gallan Head, Uig, Lewis. These were fast moving along the surface just beside the boat but were unaccompanied by birds. The rare sighting of tuna so far north of their normal habitat was a memorable experience. Unusual also was the distinctive spectacle of the exceptionally large number of gannets that were following the shoal of fish. We have never seen such a large flock in such a small area; they could be seen from many miles away.

Stornoway

I had no intention of arriving in Stornoway last night and when I did I didn't like it very much. It has all kinds of unexpected things like trees and people and, wait for it, traffic lights and roundabouts. I was expecting it to be more on the same scale as Lerwick or possibly Kirkwall, so to be driving along (it was a miserable rainy night and so I thought I might as well go for a short drive, but it ended up that I just kept going) the peaty, rocky moorland and suddenly run into an area with trees was rather a shock. There weren't just one or two; it wasn't a plantation of evergreens planted for business purposes; and it wasn't just a patch of stumpy scrub masquerading as a wood. No, these were full on, full grown, tall trees of all different varieties and there were lots of them. 

Next it was the houses that struck me. There were lots of them and I wasn't even in Stornoway yet. I was somewhere called Marybank which turned out to be a suburb of Stornoway. Yes, Stornoway has suburbs. Then suddenly there were cars everywhere and a set of traffic lights and another one and a one-way system and a roundabout and another one. Everyone seemed to be driving quite badly and I wondered if it was me, just not used to being among other vehicles. Then I wondered if they are driving badly, is it because they're all out-of-towners who are as shocked as me by traffic lights and trees and don't know how to handle it?

I drove around a bit, wasn't impressed, called at Tesco which had lots of empty shelves and was crowded with people who were manoeuvering in the aisles as badly as the drivers manoeuvre on the roads. Again I wondered if they were out-of-towners and not used to crowded supermarkets and the etiquette required to push a trolley in a socially acceptable manner. 

So I left. I drove back out and stopped at the war memorial in Kinloch to camp for the night. There was a picnic bench and a nice view and a public toilet (with a shower) just down the road at the Kinloch Historical Society in Laxey. it had stopped raining and I planned a nice evening cooking and sitting outside making use of the picnic bench. But then the midges got me and I ended up cooking in a hurry - quick stir of the pasta, prolonged swatting of the midges - and then securing myself in my van to eat and read. 

This morning looked nice, but as soon as I opened the van doors I was under midge attack again. I gave up any idea of a nice leisurely breakfast sitting at the picnic bench and drove down to the public toilet for a wash. There were no midges there so I made coffee and sat outside the toilets for a while. Not quite the leisurely breakfast with a view that I had envisioned. 

Once finished, I headed back to Stornoway. I thought I should give it another go and as it was Sunday and nothing is supposed to happen on a Sunday due to everyone's extreme religiosity and strict adherence of the sabbath (something which the checkout girl in Tesco had confirmed for me last night) I thought I could wander round and take photos without any people in the way. 

I arrived back in town and parked by the waterfront and the public toilets (30p for the toilets and £1.50 for 3 hours parking during the week - parking and toilet charges are also something I didn't expect, but at least being Sunday I didn't have to pay for parking). After a quick walk round the town I still wasn't impressed. A few interesting looking (closed) shops but mostly charity shops and everything seemed a bit grotty with lots of litter. I didn't take many photos but instead headed across the bridge to the castle grounds to follow one of the walks in my walk book. 

The castle, known as Lews Castle, was built in the 1840s by the then owner of Lewis, James Matheson. It was later owned by Lord Leverhulme who gave the grounds to the townspeople in 1924. The castle itself ended up being used as the local college until new premises were built beside it. Currently the castle is covered in scaffolding and green netting and not much of it can be seen. No-one seems sure of what its future use will be but there has been discussion of a luxury hotel or museum. 

The grounds are extensive and full of those trees. Lots of paths wind their way through it and the walk I had was a four mile loop. I started on the walk a bit further in that the book said as I crossed the river leading into the harbour at the first bridge rather than the second. The tide was out and the river bed was dry and litter strewn so I didn't feel any particular desperation to walk along more of it. 

Once the harbour was reached it got nicer with yachts and seabirds and the CalMac ferry getting ready to depart. This is the one I'll be on this time next week. I followed the path along the harbour wall which was crumbling in parts. I passed the visitor centre (closed, including the toilets, on Sunday). It looked nice inside and the book said it was a good place to stop so I must come back here for lunch before I leave. Outside there were some interesting looking seating/play areas such as seats made out of barrels and an old boat, but some of them were rotten. 

As I got further round the harbour wall I could see the end of the bay and a lighthouse. The path climbed to a viewpoint before heading inland. At the viewpoint I as joined by a man who was waving his family off on the ferry. A born and bred Stornoway man he seemed to like his hometown and so I didn't mention that so far I was unimpressed. 

I followed the path inland alongside the River Creed (appropriate for a Sunday) where another man I chatted to for a while told me it was possible to see salmon (I didn't). At a footbridge I turned right. The book then instructed me to turn left at the first fork and right at the second. I came upon the first fork much sooner than expected but followed the instructions. I should have followed my instincts and not assumed that the first fork was the first fork as it wasn't and I ended up off route. However, I was glad I did. I climbed quite high on what turned out to be a loop and came out at a wonderful viewpoint overlooking everything and everywhere. I could see all of Stornoway laid out before me and could see the coastline on the other side. This reassured me that it wasn't as huge as I'd first thought and it actually looked really pretty from high up. The shining sun probably helped of course. 

As I sat there a man walked the other way and stopped to chat. We ended up chatting for quite a while. He's originally from Durham and is a serious walker. He moved here eight years ago after his wife suggested it. They'd had several holidays here and liked it. Sadly, she was only able to enjoy her Lewisian life for under a year as she unexpectedly died from a heart attack. The gent has made his life here now though and plays the accordion at local pubs. He seemed quite lonely and I got the feeling it was through missing his wife rather than not getting to know people here. 

We went our separate ways and I found my way down to the path I'd originally started on by the harbour wall. The walk I was supposed to be doing would have taken me past a monument to James Matheson so my wrong turning meant I missed out on this. However, if I had followed the walk accurately I would have missed out on the amazing viewpoint. I'd much rather have my version of the walk than the book's so I'm quite glad I went wrong. It might even be enough to change my view of Stornoway!

Getting closer to St Kilda

I arrived in Harris on the first ferry from Bernaray this morning and one of the first things I did when I realised I could get a phone signal was ring to enquire about trips to St Kilda. The lady I spoke to told me they'd had to cancel a trip because of the heavy winds - it wouldn't be possible to land passengers on St Kilda so there was no point in the trip going ahead. The weather should improve over the next few days though and so she said she'll ring me to let me know when a trip is scheduled. As my phone isn't on very often she also suggested that I call again on Sunday to check. She seemed confident that the weather would be the only barrier to me getting to go and that there won't be any problem with either too few passenger or too many. 

I've been finding out quite a bit more about St Kilda over the past week. In Linacleit library and museum I picked up a copy of the National Trust for Scotland's Site Management Plan for St Kilda 2011-2016. At nearly 200 pages long I couldn't believe this was a 'freebie' and checked before taking a copy. But, yes it was. It's made fascinating reading. As well as descriptions of the geology, flora, fauna, history and so on, it also details the issues with running the site.

For example, since the 1950s the MOD (Ministry of Defence) have leased part of the island. Their presence does a lot more than provide a rental income. They take responsibility for providing electricity, sewage and waste disposal systems, water supplies including hot water, and medical personnel, all of which are used by Trust employees and volunteers when on the island. They also provide accommodation for visiting researchers and official visitors and deal with the bringing in of supplies. Also very important, they provide a year round presence on the island and so deal with security and 'policing'. The National Trust only have staff on the island during the summer months and before the MOD's arrival vandalism could and would occur during the winter months by people arriving with their own boats. 

If any environmental disasters happen at the times of year when no NTS staff are present they can also deal with them quickly. An example of this occurred in 2008 when a deep sea fishing vessel ran aground in a storm, and about 8 tonnes of diesel oil escaped to sea. Because of the storm NTS staff were not able to reach the island for two days. In the meantime MOD personnel had put the action plan for such an event into prompt practice and prevented what could have been serious consequences for the archipelago. 

In 2009 the MOD considered automating their base on St Kilda and withdrawing all personnel. This would have had a dire effect on the preservation of the island as in this time of cutbacks the NTS would have struggled to cover the costs involved in providing all the necessary services themselves. Fortunately the MOD have continued to keep their base manned but the NTS have realised their withdrawal could happen and so are working on contingency plans in case this does ever actually happen. 

I've also bought a couple of books on St Kilda. I'd looked at these books in several shops but at £35 each considered them way too expensive and resolved to do an Amazon search when I got home. They're the type of books I might have difficulty finding however. Whilst in Benbecula, I called in at MacGillavray's, a renowned shop for selling everything from sweets to furniture to jumpers and has a good collection of local books and second-hand books. I didn't see anything I fancied in the second-hand section but I did find the two St Kilda books I'd been looking at reduced to £20 each. This is still a lot of money and so I hummed and haa-ed a bit but then decided to go for it. So I'm now the owner of two rather heavy tomes. I'm glad I'm travelling with a vehicle and not backpacking!

Leaving North Uist to go to Bernaray on Wednesday I spotted a road sign pointing to a St Kilda viewpoint. Luckily there's rarely anyone behind on these roads and so I slammed on my brakes and did a quick turn. The road wound up and up towards the MOD listening station (or whatever it is). Just before the top was a layby with a telescope and a panorama depicting what was in view. St Kilda could be clearly seen even without the use of the telescope. Much clearer than when I saw it from Heaval. As I drove back along the coast road heading north I kept the islands in view for a while. 

So now I've seen them from a distance a couple of times, learnt lots about them, and put my name down for a trip. This wind had better die down - I'd be really upset if I got this far and then couldn't go!

Ruabhal

Ruabhal (Rueval) is the high point on Benbecula, the island which sits between North and South Uist and links them via a series of causeways. It's 8 miles long and about 5 miles at its widest. Although small, the island is the main administrative area for the Uists. This is mainly because of the large military base here, although the military presence has been scaled down in recent years. Most people live on the west side and the main village is Balivanich whic hosts the airport as well as a bank, post office, souvenir shop, bakery and restaurant. Further south along the west coast is Liniclate which has a large sports complex adjoined to the secondary school. There is a swimming  pool, sauna, gym and games hall as well as an outdoor sporting area. The complex also contains the island's library, theatre and museum as well as a large cafeteria.

But back to Ruabhal. Sunday dawned a bit hazy and breezy but still a fine day. I drove to the town dump just off the main A865 to park. The turnoff is easy to find as there is a brown sign pointing the way to the Rueval footpath.

From the dump a clear, wide track led towards Loch Ba Una. This path can be followed all the way to the far side of the island to Roisinis from where Bonnie Prince Charlie and Flora MacDonald set sail for Skye.

About midway past the loch I left the main path to turn to the left up the side of the mountain and in the direction of Ruabhal. The path is distinct and there are wooden posts acting as waymarkers alongside the first part. The waymarkers stop near a fence and the path gets a bit fainter, but it's still easy to see where to go. Basically just head for the big lump straight in front of you.

Although steep, particularly near the top, this was not a strenuous walk. The walking book I'm using says it is a four mile round trip, but I doubt this. It took me 45 minutes to walk to the top and I went slowly, stopping every few metres to gasp at the ever-widening view. Descending I took it easy and used my poles as I could feel my knee joints creaking, but even so, it only took 30 minutes.

The view at the top is breathtaking. There is a trig point and a couple of cairns. Even though it was hazy and I couldn't see any distant islands (no chance of seeing St Kilda today), I could still see far more than I could take in. The island is covered with lochs and lochans and seems to consist more of water than land. It was difficult to tell which bits of land were actually Benbecula, just separated by a loch, and which bits were different islands and islets separated by the narrow channels that run between them. I could also see how spreadout the majority of houses were and how few there were in total. I spent quite a while at the top, forgetting all about the wind, just gazing at the 360 degree view.

Flodda

Flodda (Flodaigh) is a small island attached to the north coast of Benbecula by means of a short causeway. I drove over the causeway and parked at the end of the road in the bus turning circle. A sign asks people not to park during the hours of 8.00 - 8.45am and 3.30 - 4.30pm as this is when the space is needed by the bus. An abandoned brown 3-wheeled car is perched at the side of the space rotting away. 

Two tracks lead off side-by-side. The right-hand one leads down to the small peninsula where a resident seal colony can be found. Part way along this track is another abandoned car. This one has been put to use as a display board for the 'Flodaigh Seal News'. An A4 map of the area showing the best walking routes and the best points to see seals (noted as Point A and Point B) is stuck to the inside of the driver's window. On the dashboard is another A4 sheet giving information about the routes and the seals. It said that the seals often beach themselves on the rocks during low tide, sliding back into the sea to go fishing at high tide. So low tide is the best time to see them. I had no idea what the state of the tide was, but as I've seen plenty of seals before and I fancied an evening stroll, I set off anyway.

As I was leaving the car to continue down the track a man came striding purposefully across the moor and over the wire fence. I said hello but I don't think he even registered my presence. He strode past the car and down to the croft house from where a few minutes later I could hear him shouting 'hello'. On my return I saw him striding out back across the moor. It made me think of times of old when people would have visited each others houses in this way. Now most people use a car, but maybe the old ways still continue for some. 

A little further on the track splits, but a hand painted sign on the ground points the way to 'seals'. A little further still another sign on the ground shows the paths leading to Point A or Point B. The information in the car had said that Point A was rougher going, so I decided to go that way first. Although it wasn't particularly difficult going I was glad of my poles to sweep all the bracken away. A faint but definite path led the way through to the end of the point past several pieces of abandoned and well-rusted farm machinery. 

There were no seals to be seen. I continued round the small headland and came to what must be Point B - I could see the path leading back. No seals here either. There weren't many exposed rocks for them to sit on so I guess it was high tide and they were all out fishing. I walked back along the second path, which was much easier going, past more abandoned and rusted farm machinery, back to my van. 

The walk was just over a mile in length so quite a good one to fit into a day spent doing other things. Although it was a shame not to have seen any seals, I have seen them before, and the walk was a nice way of getting to see a bit of yet another Hebridean island.

Bornais

Bornais is a rocky promontory, not quite an island on the west coast of South Uist. The promontory is used by the military for weapons training, but this is infrequent and there were no signs of it today. Literally no signs. I thought at least there would be warning signs advising visitors to heed notices and leave the area if asked, and so on. But there was nothing.

I parked by the church in quite a spacious car park. The church can be found by turning off the main A865 to the left at the signpost for Bornais. After about a mile the road curves to the right. At the curve is a left hand turn leading a short way down to the church.

The church is surrounded by farmland and machair, the sandy land which is a haven for wildflowers, grasses and butterflies. Seventy per cent of the world's machair is said to be found in the Outer Hebrides and all along South Uist's twenty-some mile long west coast is a waymarked trail called the Machair Way. This isn't so much a trail to follow from end-to-end, but more a dip in here, there and wherever takes your fancy sort of trail. There are frequent signposts along the A865 pointing out narrow roads leading down to various access points for the Machair Way along the coast.

Getting out of my van, I chatted to an older man for a few minutes. He's been coming here for 14 years and loves the scenery, but said he's never been down to the end of the track to the promontory. Together we watched a herd of cows wander across the fields to the lochan next to the car park. One by one they all waded in and stood around for a few minutes having a drink and seeming to enjoy the refreshing coolness. It reminded me of scenes in Africa, in my mind I was substituting cows for water buffalo. After a few minutes they waded back out and several came over to the car park. They seemed to be real free-range cows just wandering wherever they felt like. I did notice the hayfields were fenced off though, presumably to prevent them from munching there winter feed too early.

I got my boots on and continued down the road, which quickly became a track, towards the promontory. I spent a long time wandering round the promontory and did a full circle. I came across an information board for a broch and a couple of other ancient building remains, but it didn't say whereabouts they were and neither my walk book or the OS map mentioned them.

As I was midway round my loop of the promontory I came across the broch. It was quite easy to see the entrance and where the inner and outer walls had been. I saw no sign of the other building though. Each time I saw what seemed a likely heap of rocks I wandered over, but if it was an ancient building I was none the wiser and each heap of rocks did seem like nothing more than a heap of rocks even close up.

Leaving the promontory my book instructed me to walk over the dunes backing onto the long white beach. Apparently walking on the side would make it difficult for me to know where exactly to turn inland to see the remains of a castle. The dunes were really tough going however, with no clear path. I was really glad of my poles as I clambered around scaring rabbits left, right and centre. Eventually I came to a fence that extended right over the edge of the dunes and on to the beach. I couldn't see a way down and so ended up having to climb over. I don't like climbing over barbed wire fences at the best of times, but this was quite wobbly too. I realised I'd be better climbing over the fence that followed the top of the dunes and met the wobbly fence at a right angle. This was made of firmer wire and there was a gate on the other side which I could step on to, to help get down the other side. Once this was done I went through the gate and continued walking on easier ground on the inside of the dune-topping fence. I'm sure it would have been easier to walk along the beach and keep popping up on to the dunes to check for the nearness of the castle.

Coming to a second fence, I followed this inland to reach the ruin of Caisteal Ormacleit. This was probably the last castle to be built in Scotland. It was built around 1700 and burnt down in 1715. It's not possible to go inside as the structure is unsafe and also a private house is built on to the side of it. I detoured as close as possible and took a couple of photos.

Then I followed a good path through the hayfields and machair back to the church and my van. The farmers were out in force gathering hay and making silage and I stopped to chat to one for a few minutes. He commented on the good weather that had been here over the past couple of months, unlike the rest of Britain which seems to have been under a constant deluge of rain. He said, if anything, they could do with some rain here now. I have noticed on my walks so far, how dry everywhere is, particularly ground that I'm sure for the most time would usually be very boggy.

This was an enjoyable walk that took me about 3.75 hours despite only being 5 miles. I spent a lot of time on the promontory and it was quite slow going along the top of the dunes. I noticed on the other side of the fence the ground seemed much easier and so if I was to do this walk again I'd stay on that side of the fence.

Wheelhouse, South Uist

I'd spotted signs from the road for something called the Hallan Wheelhouses. I had no idea what these were but decided to investigate. Following signs down side roads and a track I parked outside a modern church with a large graveyard, seemingly in the middle of nowhere.

I then walked down a sandy track assuming I'd know when I got to the wheelhouses. I did even though they weren't signed. There were actually three information boards on the opposite side of the track but they had been placed on the ground behind a bit of a dune, so are not visible unless you go around there. I like poking around and so I found them.

The remains of the wheelhouses are thought to date to the early years of the first millenium. Archaeologists have found evidence of them being lived in for about 1400 years, some of the most continually lived in properties in Britain.

the houses are round and have thick stone walls with entrance passage ways and fireplaces. They also have burial places within them and bodies have been excavated. This seems to have been a way of honouring a respected dead person or as some sort of good luck charm. The houses are known as wheelhouses because of the round sides and spoke-like chambers leading of the main central room. Others have been identified in the area but many are buried underneath the drifting sands and these are the best exposed examples.

I could see that if I continued to follow the track I would have come to the beach, but as time was getting on and I'd only stopped for a quick look, I left and walked back the way I'd come.

The following day I followed a short walk in my walking book entitled 'The Wheelhouse'. this started slightly further south than my walk the previous evening and at first I thought it might be a walk leading to the same wheelhouse. A check of the map showed that this was a different location albeit not very far away.

For this walk, I parked on the side of the one of roads I had driven down yesterday. I then set off across the machair and cultivated fields along a good track for about 1km. Coming to a crossroads of tracks I turned right along a distinct track though it wasn't as good as the one I'd just been walking along. I knew the wheelhouse was somewhere off to the left along here and the book warned me it could be hard to see. I kept veering off to look at any mounds of hollows, but when I came upon the wheelhouse it was actually really obvious. It wasn't as distinct as the ones yesterday, but was still clearly a wheelhouse.

I continued on my way turning right after a short way to head north along the dunes and the beach. Finally I left the dunes to join up with a path leading east and back to my car.

As I walked along this path I kept getting glimpses of the graveyard where I'd parked yesterday. If I was to do this walk again I'd join both together. Walking a bit further along the beach I'm sure I could have come inland at the sandy track I'd followed to get to the Hallan Wheelhouses. It would then have been a relatively short walk along the quiet lanes to get back to my car.

Eriskay

Eriskay is the small island to the north of Barra and to the south of South Uist. It is about 3 miles long and 1.5 miles wide with a high point of 185 metres. The whole island is an undulating mass or rock, heather, bog and wild flowers. The ferry from Barra docks here and there are toilets and showers (£1 if you want a hot one) in the rather nice new waiting room at the pier.

Round the coast a bit, on the west side, are the two villages of Am Baile and Rubha Ban that sit side by side - I couldn't tell where one finished and the oher began. It is here that the Am Politician pub can be found. The pub is named after the ship, the SS Politician, that came aground here in 1941. To the islanders' delight the ship was carrying a cargo of 20,000 crates of whisky to America. At any time this would probably have delighted the islanders, but as this was the wartime and whisky was hard to come by, this was like manna from heaven. The locals carried out their own salvage operation and although some islanders ended up in prison, customs and excise never caught up with the majority and it was a case of 'finders drinkers'. The story was immortalised by Compton Mackenzie in his book Whisky Galore. The film of the book was later shot on neighbouring Barra.

The east side of the island is where the SS Politician actually came aground but this side has no tracks or roads or houses. It looks an interesting part of the island to walk over and Peter Clarke, when researching his book The Timeless Way, did just this and found faint tracks from years ago.

However, today I was just planning to follow a walk I'd found in a little walk book I'd bought in the tourist office in Barra. I parked at the pub and walked past the two graveyards stopping to investigate a couple of small beaches along the way. After the second graveyard the road forked and I took the right hand track which led to the larger beach known as Prince's Beach as this is purportedly where, in 1745, Bonnie Prince Charlie first put foot on Scottish soil. He'd arrived from France and was on his way to mainland Scotland.

All the beaches on this side of the island are take-your-breath-away beautiful: white sand, silvery rocks, clear pale blue sea shimmering in the subdued light. There were clouds, but it was warm and there was no rain forecast. I followed what looked like otter tracks for a while - the tracks looked quite fresh, but I didn't see any. I came up to the road at the far end of the beach near the ferry terminal.

Walking up the road away from the pier I came to the crossroads where I'd earlier turned left to get to the village. This time I turned right and walked a short way before cutting to the left, through a gate and along a track leading up hill to the water purification station. The track ended here but I could see a faint path where people had walked before me veering to the left. My walk book instructed me to walk straight up behind the station however, which I did, clambering over a few rocks in the process. I soon found a faint track again and saw a marker post. I walked out towards the small, still Loch Cracabhaig and then, still following faint paths on the ground and the occasional marker post, headed north through the rocky landscape and over the moor. The ground was spongy with heather and moss and in places quite boggy. Wildflowers were everywhere and these were attracting copious amounts of butterflies of different colours and varieties: red, brown, cream, pale blue.

I was tempted to walk up to the trig point, but decided against it as I was starting to get hungry and I'd not brought any lunch with me. I saw wild Eriskay ponies on the rocks above me. The ponies are native to the island and no more than 12-13 hands height. In the past they were used to carry peat and seaweed around the island, but now they seem to be enjoying a life of permanent retirement. They are hardy and stay outdoors year round. The ones I saw were white, though I think there may be other colours. They have a different stature to Shetland ponies, being a slimmer build.

As the village came into sight the tracks and marker posts began to lead me downwards. I came out on the road but felt I could walk further on the moorland, so headed back up and descended again just above a roadside shrine to Our Lady of Fatima.

From here it was a short walk back to the pub and my van. The walk is only about 2.5 miles long but took me about 2.5 hours. This was because of my many stops to take photographs or just to stare at the amazing views.

Heaval

I climbed Heaval after a day walking on Vatersay. It had been hot and sunny all day and with barely a cloud in the sky and no haze the opportunity to ascend Heaval and see up and down the chains of the Inner and Outer Hebrides and possibly all the way out St Kilda was too good to miss.

I parked in the car park up the hill from Castlebay. At the side of the car park is a stunning house. Most houses in the Hebrides, as I'd also found in Shetland, are not perticularly nice to look at. You wouldn't go to either place to wander round quaint villages as you may do in the Cotswolds. On the whole the houses are functional boxes, often pebble-dashed.

But this house is something completely different. It has a stunning, uninterrupted view over the bay and the castle that sits in the harbour, and the house has been designed with the view in mind. The side facing the bay is almost all glass, with a soaring double height ceiling over the living room. Around the outside overlooking the bay is a large decking area. If I was to move to Barra, this would be the house I would to live in. Actually, even though I have no thoughts of moving to the Hebrides at all, if I was offered this house, I think I'd move anyway.

Enough of the view of a house from the car park. I was here to see the view of the islands from the top of Heaval. By starting at the car park I was already part way up tue 383 metres to the summit. The hill looks like a mini Matterhorn and seems to rise to a distinct point. It looks steep. Very steep. Just below the summit is a statue of Our Lady of the Sea which can just be made out as a tiny white speck from the car park.

Striding out from the car park, I crossed the road and came to a standstill. There was a barbed wire topped fence seemingly all the way along the side of the road. There was a gate but that just led to another layer of fence. Supposedly down the road a bit was a stile. As I was looking the guys from Kent who had been on my trip to Mingulay arrived, along with a girl from their hostel. Four heads are better than one and together we wandered up and down looking for a way over the fence. We did find a stile but it was so rickety it didn't seem safe to stand on, let alone use to climb over a fence. Eventually we decided to go over the fence near the gate as there was a bit without the barbed wire.

Once over it was onwards and upwards. It really is steep and there is no set path, just lots of slightly beaten down bits bearing footprints that show which way people have gone before. Of course, following these can give a bit of false hope, as they could have walked that way only to have to turn back when they could no further.

Ever so slowly, I picked my way through bog, heather and moss. I scrambled over rocks using my hands and poles for support. Eventually I got to the top and the view was amazing. I could make out Mingulay and the other islands to the south. Skye was clear to the east. But best of all, way on the western horizon, I could make out the islands of St Kilda. My first ever view of them. Now I want to go there even more than before.

Photographs taken, view admired, I started to descend. It was too windy and a bit chilly to stay at the top for long and I knew it could take me a long time to get down. It seemed almost like a vertical drop. I'm sure it would have been easier to abseil down. I detoured slightly to the statue and then continued picking my way down using my hands and poles again and sometimes sitting on my bum to get down the bits I knew would jar on my knees if I jumped down them.

Very inelegantly I got to the bottom. I had wondered how I'd fare getting back over the fence with no-one to lean on for support. The other three were much faster than me and I could see them getting back into their car whilst I was still mooching around the statue. The wire was quite wobbly to stand on and so it had been good to have a shoulder to lean on when crossing to go up.

Just before I got to the bottom I spotted another gate further down. This was a proper big wide gate, which if locked, would be easy to climb over. I headed for this and was able to open it and walk through. There was a little ditch to jump over, but that was it. Easy-peasy. I walked up the road and back to the car park where I stayed for a while looking at the hill I had just climbed, the view of the bay and castle, and of course my dream house.

Vatersay

Vatersay is the southern most inhabited island in the Outer Hebrides. It is joined to Barra by means of a causeway. The island is shaped like an apple core with a thin bit in the middle and a chunkier section at each end. The middle bit has a glorious white sandy beach on either side. There are several other smaller white sandy beaches dotted around the island, several of which can be seen from Barra.

The day I did this walk was hot, sunny and almost cloudless. I parked near the Annie Jane memorial and started by walking up to the memorial. This is situated on the cliff by the right hand (east) beach on the middle thin bit. The Annie Jane was a ship taking emigrees from Liverpool to Canada which was wrecked just off the coast in 1853. Three quarters of the people on board, more than 300, lost their lives that day and many are buried on Vatersay.

Climbing over the stile by the memorial I crossed the dunes down to the beach. There were only two other people on it, despite it being a long beautiful beach, easily accessible, and such a nice day in the school holidays.

I walked to the far end and examined a low sea cave then backtracked a little to get up on the dunes and machair for the uphill trek towards the remains of Dun Bhatarsaigh, a 2000 year old fort. There wasn't much to see of the fort, but the views of the surrounding area were magnificent.

The descent on the other side of the dun was decidedly boggy and I was glad of the footprints left by the man walking some way ahead of me. There were waymarker posts but these were not always in the driest of spots. Up over another hill and I was looking out for a standing stone. I went through what seemed to be the remains of a gate - one post remaining with a smaller rounder stone supporting it, and carried on up onto some flat high rocks with great views of Sandray to the south. I sat here for a while, enjoying the weather and the view and trying to work out where the stone was. I realised that it must have been the gatepost I'd seen. Not the most impressive standing stone I've seen but I went back to take a photo of it anyway.

The path continued over machair and down to another wonderful beach. This one was so nice even the cows agreed and they'd all come down to spend the day on the beach. Some were standing, others were lying around - all they were missing were beach towels and sun umbrellas.

As I climbed back up the other side of the beach I came across the man I'd been following and a couple who were walking the opposite way and had stopped to chat. It was the couple's first visit but for the man, who turned out to be a very fit octogenarian, it was his twenty-fifth time. He'd retired at fifty and started leading tours to the islands. He only stopped when he turned 80 and the company he was working for said it had got too expensive to insure him. His tours were mainly with older people and fairly sedate, but he liked to get out walking whenever possible. He was knowledgeable about the islands and I walked with him a short way to the abandoned settlement of Eorasdail. There were only about four houses so this had been a very small settlement indeed and life must have been very hard. Now the cows treat the houses as their own and looked at me very suspiciously as I poked around them.

I walked to another small beach just past the settlement before heading up and inland across the sloped of Am Meall. I could see the modern day village which shares its name, Vatersay, with the island. About 120 people currently live on Vatersay, most of them in this village. I circled widely round the village to reach the beach on the other side of the thin middle bit. This beach was positively crowded by Hebridean standards with many families sunbathing, playing cricket or throwing sticks for their dogs. Walking the full lenght along this beach brought me to the village hall and a welcome pot of Earl Grey and a slice of wedding cake. The man I'd chatted to earlier was in the cafe and I sat with him whilst I drank my tea. I wondered if the wedding cake was left over from the wedding that had taken place in Castlebay on Saturday. The young couple on the boat to Mingulay had come home to Barra as it was the man's sister who was getting married.

Mingulay

I made it to Mingulay. Last night I rang the boatman but I was only the third person to book onto the trip to this deserted island and he needed five as a minimum to make it worth his while. He told me that there was still time to get two more recruits and so I agreed to turn up this morning in the hope that he would be going.

As I drove past the Isle of Barra Hotel this morning I pulled into the car park as this seems to be the only place I can get a mobile signal on the island. His wife informed me that the trip was going ahead and so for the second day running I parked in the small car park in Castlebay, put my boots on, made a packed lunch and stuffed my waterproofs into my bag.

There were exactly five passengers waiting to board the small Boy James. With three crew we had an almost one-to-one ratio. The boat left 2 minutes early and almost immediately we were offered coffee and biscuits. The boat took its time and we circumnavigated several islands and stacks looking at seabirds and the wonderful rock formations and sea caves.

There was a shout. Someone had spotted basking sharks. Our captain slowed the boat right down and took us close to them. They came to investigate us circling the boat, fins slicing through the water Jaws style.

Passing the now uninhabited island of Pabbay we could see a derelict house above the sandy beach. The house, obviously made with stone from the island, blended into the rocky hill and was difficult to see; the island reabsorbing its stone.

Before landing on Mingulay we sailed round the island and up close to the soaring Eagle Cliff. Looking at more sea caves and a gannet colony we then chugged through a narrow sea cave open at both ends, but too long to be called a natural arch.

As we came close to the white beach on which we were to land we could see what looked like a pile of rocks. Closer investigation showed that these were all in fact seals. As we pulled closer they left the beach and flopped into the water, not disappearing, but staying around to watch us.

The boat was unable to land on the beach and instead pulled up to a much smaller boat attached to a buoy. We climbed into this boat and, motor started, moved up close to the rocks at the right hand side of the beach. Here we piled out of the boat onto mollusc-encrusted rocks and then had a short but steep scramble up the rocks and then down to the beach below.

Crossing the beach we then had to find a way up at the other side. We each found our own way that best suited and assembled at the top for the short walk to the old school. This was built in 1894, but abandoned in 1912 when the last residents left the island. Until now it's been left for nature to do what it will. However, this year the National Trust for Scotland, who are responsible for the island, have decided to carry out renovations. Once finished, NTS staff and volunteers will have a base to use when they are staying on the island.

Currently there are two men working on the building and they have been here for a week. They are both local and have a tent to sleep in pitched just outside the building. Work is coming along well with the inside of the building already looking much better than the outside.

Leaving the schoolhouse a track was visible leading to the abandoned village remains. The school is quite a way from the village as the Lady of the island in bygone times didn't want it building too close to the houses as she didn't like the noise of children. The track had been well-made and was defined with a line of stones to the seaward side.

The village itself was fascinating to look round. The houses have all long since lost their roofs and any timber has rotted away. Many walls have fallen down, but those remaining or part-remaining looked very picturesque against a backdrop of wild flowers and rocks. The beach is slowly taking over the houses and some were filled with sand almost to the height of their remaining walls. It will probably take a long time for them to completely disappear but I wondered if one day in the distant future they could be uncovered by a storm Skara Brae style and astound archaeologists.

I walked uphill slightly to the church (also the priest's house) with two of the passengers. Both men are from Kent and are on a sea-kayaking holiday staying at the local hostel which is also the sea-kayaking centre. The other two passengers, a young local couple, who no longer lived on Barra but were back for a wedding, had come over to visit a cousin who was one of the men working on the school. They had not walked with us and we didn't see them again until it was time to return to the boat. The three of us who were still together sat by the church and ate our lunch.

Then the men headed uphill and to the left (west) to the tops of the high sea cliffs (Eagle Cliff) that we had sailed beneath earlier. I didn't go this way as both this and the hill to the north were shrouded in mist and I didn't think I'd see much. Instead I headed to a slightly lower part of the ridge between the two high points. This was slightly below the mist and I though I'd get better views.

The walk climbed steeply over peaty ground and expanses of flat rock. It never got too boggy which surprised me. Levelling out at the top, I walked a bit further across a small moorland plateau to reach the western edge of the island from which I had wonderful views of the surrounding cliffs and stacks. Skuas were soaring overhead but showed no interest in me and didn't swoop down to attack me.

I stayed for a short while before heading back down, picking my way through the springy ground and feeling very glad of my walking poles. Near the church a couple of kayakers we'd seen landing on the beach earlier were setting up camp. Camping is allowed on the island but the NTS request that you inform them first.

Making my way back to the rocks I came across the two Kentish men. None of us could quite remember the way down to the pick-up point. The local couple joined us, but they didn't know either. It wasn't a problem as once we were all gathered the boatman set out in his small boat and once we could see which direction he was heading in we were able to make our way down the rock face to meet him.

Once back on the main boat we were again offered coffee and biscuits. The boat headed straight back for Castlebay and picked up speed so the homeward journey was much quicker than the outward bound one had been.

All in all, the trip last just under six hours with about three hours on Mingulay. Although the weather wasn't the greatest in Barra, it was fine on Mingulay apart from the mist on the high cliffs. There was no wind apart from at the highest points on the island. The boat trip as well as the time on the island all made this a very enjoyable day and well worth the £50 it had cost.

The St Kilda mailboat

St Kilda is an island (actually a small archipelago) out in the Atlantic way west of Scotland. It was abandoned in 1930 when the way of life become unsustainable for the remaining 36 inhabitants. It's now owned by the National Trust for Scotland and one of the best ways to visit the island (and one of the only ways to spend more than a few hours there) is to take part in one of their work parties. So far it hasn't been feasible for me to do this, but one day I will.

Until their evacuation, the residents of St Kilda lived in almost complete isolation. The only way they had of communicating with the outside world was with the aid of a St Kilda mailboat. These mailboats were small wooden boxes in which letters and money for a stamp would be placed. They'd be sealed up, an inflated sheep's bladder would be attached as a float and the mailboat would be launched. They usually landed in Scotland or Scandinavia where the finder would hopefully post the letter inside.

Today I saw an article on the National Trust for Scotland's website about a mailboat launched by one of last summer's work parties being found in Norway. Although there are other means of communication now, each work party launches a mailboat as a way of re-enacting the tradition. Until I saw this article I hadn't realised they did this.

I wonder who'll find the one I launch when I eventually join a work party there?

GGW day 7

Wednesday 24th August, 2011

I had a leisurely start to today as I had no need to rush anywhere. I spent the morning walking out to the sea lock at Clachnaharry. This is about a 5 mile round trip and meant that not only had I followed the Great Glen Way in its entirety, but also the Caledonian Canal. The path all the way to the sea lock was busy with dog-walkers, joggers, boats, and residential and business premises. It was a gloriously warm and sunny day and a lovely end to my walk. Except it wasn't the end really, as I still had to get to Inverness Castle.

Back near the campsite I called in at Floral Hall coffee shop for lunch. This is a botanical garden, but as there was an admission charge and I didn't know how much time I'd need to look round it properly, I didn't go in. I'll save it for another time.

I went back to the campsite and spent a bit of time lying around reading before getting packed up for the walk across the Ness Islands to Inverness. The Ness Islands are set in the River Ness and joined by a series of bridges. They are all covered with woodland and make a pleasant park area for the people of Inverness. Finally the path reached Inverness proper and climbed upwards along roads to reach the castle and the GGW start/finish sign.

Once I'd taken the obligatory photos I headed for the train station and sat in the bar with a well-deserved beer before getting the train back to Glasgow.

Distance walked = about 7 miles (2 'official' miles plus the 5 miles to the sea lock and back)