Day Six: Barra to North Uist

The last three days of the journey are the ones that fill us with the greatest sense of apprehension. One hundred and six miles to be cycled before we finish with today’s trek the biggest challenge at 42 miles. Setting off from Castlebay at 7am we take the 1hr 40 min crossing north to Lochboisdale on South Uist. From here we cycle through three islands in a northerly direction, firstly South Uist, then across a stone causeway to Benbecula and then across another causeway to North Uist and onwards to our overnight stop in Lochmaddy at the top of the island.

Arriving in Lochboisdale we are tempted to climb aboard a small local bus to Lochmaddy as the driver sagely suggests that it will take us three days to travel through the islands by bike. Ignoring his playful banter we set off determined to prove him wrong, embarrassingly we head of in the wrong direction which brings further unbridled joy to his otherwise mundane life as he highlights the difference between north and south to the displaced townies.

South Uist is the second largest of the islands in the Western Isles, measuring some 22 miles north to south and 7 miles from east to west. The geography is divided into a series of north-south strips, each running the length of the island. The west coast faces onto the Atlantic and comprises around 20 miles of beach, broken only by a headland at the half-way point. Behind the beach is a strip of machair, or grassy duneland. East again is a strip containing a vast number of small fresh water lochans, and a series of dispersed crofting townships.

Heading out of Lochboisdale we find that the skies are clear and the sun is bright but not at a temperature that will induce sweat, perfect cycling weather? Sadly no, as we leave the sheltered port we become increasingly aware of the strong wind blowing down from the north. The wind at differing times is either blowing head on or diagonally across our bow, this is going to be a long day!! It is days like this that a cyclist grows to resent his panniers, as every hill presents a challenge and every turn in the road brings a hope of a change in wind direction.

Thankfully the single track road up the west side of the island is relatively flat with the mountains Beinn Mhor and Hecla to our right and the Atlantic always in view on our left. As we conclude our cycle through South Uist we pass a collection of buildings and domes degrading the summit of a scenic hill. They are part of the Ministry of Defence Missile Range that was built here in the late 1950s and which accounts for the number of "Danger Area" signs around the west coastal route we have just encountered.

Exiting South Uist we cross our first causeway into Benbecula. Nestled between North and South Uist in the Western Isles, Benbecula (Gael: Beinn na Faoghla, meaning 'mountain of the fords') is a low flat windswept island with a solitary hill that rises to 409 feet. It has an area of 20,270 acres comprising machair in the west and peat moorland in the east, and its main settlement is at Balivanich. An army base established here in 1958 was extended in 1971 to house military personnel servicing the South Uist rocket range and to the northeast lies the island's airfield. The total population numbers about 1300.

In 1960, HM Queen Elizabeth, the Queen Mother, opened a causeway over the North Ford connecting with North Uist and in 1982 another causeway was extended across the sands of South Ford linking the island to South Uist. At 5 miles (8 km) in length, the North Ford Causeway is the longest in the Western Isles. It clips the western end of the island of Grimsay and runs over various smaller islands on route. It is at these causeways that we encounter the relative splendour of a two way road and stunning sandy beaches deposited by the swift tidal streams of the Atlantic as it funnels in and out of the many lochans.

Crossing the final causeway we enter into North Uist and the final part of our marathon. North Uist measures some 18 miles from east to west by 12 miles from north to south, and has one of the most complex topographies you are likely to find anywhere. The eastern two thirds of the island are characterised by freshwater lochans that seem to occupy more of the land than the land itself, plus deeply indenting sea lochs that reduce still further the proportion of green to blue. The sparseness of shops and eating establishments on these islands is beginning to figure prominently in our thoughts as we slog through the relentless wind, so it is a great relief when we reach the crossroads village of Clachan and find a well stocked grocer shop which refuels our energy stores for the final 8 miles to Lochmaddy. This final stretch to our end destination requires that we change direction to a south easterly direction and refreshingly with a tail wind escorting us. The final 8 miles are completed in record time as we find top gear on our bikes and freewheel to Lochmaddy rejuvenated in the knowledge that the longest cycle stage of the tour is complete.

Our stopover for the evening (Uist Outdoor Centre) proves to be a déjà vu experience for us as we find that there is no landlady/owner/warden at this establishment either…trusting lot in this part of the world. Although we have pre-booked we have not paid for our evening stay, so it is surprising to find the backpackers centre empty with its doors open. Following the same process as yesterday we throw our bags on a bunk bed and make our exit. To further add to the feeling of déjà vu we encounter our cycling roommates from the previous evening in Lochmaddy who inform us that they are also staying the evening in the open door establishment.

Lochmaddy is the village capital and main settlement on the island of North Uist, a bustling metropolis this is not. A quiet little fishing village and port we quickly establish that it has one shop and two hotels, one seems to be unnecessarily extravagant and the other, a tad more affordable. We settle for the latter and find the food to be extremely good value for money with a homemade tomato and pepper soup to die for.

Returning to our digs we find that our erstwhile empty premises is now being overrun by a marauding group of teenagers. Our hearts immediately dive bomb to the pits of our tired legs as we anticipate a sleepless night filled with adolescent high jinks. We also find that our roommates from last night have sought sanctuary in our room for another evening; they too have the look of the dammed about them. We needn’t have worried as our cynicism was to be proven unnecessary. The children were firmly marshalled by three teachers who had taken them over from Skye to play a game of Shinty with their local rivals and the teenagers turned out to be fine ambassadors for themselves, their school and their island.

The teenagers, like us and our roommates are quick to extinguish the lights and rest their weary limbs before an early rise the following morning.

Day Five: Oban to Barra

An early rise is required this morning to pack our freshly laundered gear followed by a leisurely cycle along Oban seafront to catch the 8:30 am ferry to the Isle of Barra, stopping at Tiree and Coll en-route.

This seven hour journey is one of the most scenic on CalMac's network. After clearing Oban Bay around the north end of Kerrera we pass by the southern end of the island of Lismore and sail the length of the Sound of Mull, with Mull on your left and Morvern, and later the Ardnamurchan Peninsula, on our right.

Highlights include Duart Castle, perched atop a rock overlooking the sea; Tobermory, glimpsed sheltering in its bay; and the lighthouse at Ardnamurchan Point. Beyond the point we venture into open waters and veer North West towards Coll and Tiree.

Tiree is an island known for its sandy beaches, which when combined with its excellent record for sunshine makes it an attractive spot for those wanting to get away from it all. Its generally low-lying landscape is interrupted only where it rises to a height of nearly five hundred feet at its very western end. Tiree's land area of 30 square miles supported a population of 4450 at the time of the 1831 census: today the population is nearer 800. Tiree is variously referred to as The Land below the Waves, The Land of Corn or The Hawaii of the North depending on who you speak to. Each of these descriptions holds true depending on the season - and sometimes the time of day! Tiree is probably the flattest of all the Hebrides, most of the island lying no more than 15m above sea level. However there are three hills which give superb views over the 30 square-mile island and much further afield of course. The highest of these hills, Beinn Hynish (141m) is dominated by The Golf Ball, a huge radar dome used by the Civil Aviation Authority for tracking transatlantic air traffic.

Coll, north east of Tiree has only about a quarter of Tiree's population on an island twelve miles by three. It, too, is known for its extensive beaches, and it also has a range of prehistoric relics including standing stones and a souterrain. The island has a small village, Arinagour, where a seal watches the latest visitors to the island depart the boat at the pier.

Further out, we pass the north end of the island of Coll, the Isle of Barra and the Uist Isles come into view in the horizon. On the approach to Barra we have to negotiate some tiny rock outcrops and various small isles as we enter Castle Bay and reverse on to the pier. It is in such confined terrain that one really recognises the bulk of these ships and appreciates the skills of the crew who operate them, as the ferry is carefully manoeuvred around some canoeists close to Kisimul Castle sitting strategically in the centre of the bay.

Kisimul Castle dates from the mid 16th century. The castle is completely surrounded by water and has never fallen to an enemy. The name of the castle comes from the Gaelic words cios (tax) and mul (mound).
Kisimul was abandoned in 1838 when the island was sold, and the castle's condition deteriorated. Some of its stone was used as ballast for fishing vessels, and some even ended up as paving in Glasgow. The remains of the castle, along with most of the island of Barra, were purchased by the chief of Clan MacNeil in 1937, who made efforts at restoration. In 2001 the castle was leased by the chief of Clan MacNeil to Historic Scotland for 1000 years for the annual sum of £1 and a bottle of whisky.

In such a small port it is not long before we locate our stopover for the evening (Dunard Hostel), which occupies a prize position overlooking the bay. As we travel towards our evening residence we become aware that a host of fellow passengers are following our lead which results in great confusion when reaching the hostel. On entering the hostel we find that there is no landlady/warden/owner in attendance. The question on the gathering hordes lips is: ‘Where are we all going to sleep this evening?’ By our calculations there are now 10 people looking for a bed for the evening and only 8 beds in the establishment on offer. Having pre-paid we decide to act quickly and decisively by going upstairs and throwing our panniers on the best bunk available. An act which is quickly replicated by two fellow female cyclists who are also of the mind: ‘If you are not fast you are last’.

Further investigation reveals that the owner/landlady/warden visits each day at 10am and any questions and payments can be made at that time. Avoiding a possible bun fight downstairs we quickly change in to our cycling gear and make our exit as an unfortunate couple vacate the premises in search of another place to sleep for the evening. We suspect that they have been voted out by the other house mates ;-)

The area of Barra is roughly 23 square miles, circumnavigated by a 13 mile single track road, the main village being Castlebay. The west of the island has white sandy beaches backed by shell-sand machair and the east has numerous rocky inlets. Sadly for us as we make our escape from squabbling house mates to board our bikes the rain comes down thus inhibiting the stunning scenery around the island.

Undeterred we press on and wonder at the haphazard placement of the many bungalows around the island. There seems to be no adherence to national planning regulations around the isle, an attitude of nonchalance to government guidelines is prevalent.

Minutes from an island planning committee would appear to proceed along these lines:

Archie: Angus, would it be all right to build a hoose over on that wee hill behind yer barn?

Angus: Aye nae bother Archie, sure its nae good for anything else. When dae ye want to start building?

Archie: Next week?

Angus: Not a problem. That will be a dram you owe me!

Archie: That concludes this months planning agenda; we will now adjourn to the bar.

Despite the apathy shown to council planners the beauty spots around the island remain unaffected, of which there are many…the beaches on this island would not look out of place in The Bahamas. Sadly the weather is %100 Scottish and we are relieved to return to the bunkhouse after 2 hours to dry off and prepare ourselves for an evening meal at the nearby Castlebay Hotel.

The hotel is believed to have been built in the 1860s and the Bar was constructed around 1911, primarily to cater for the people involved in the herring industry. Photos on the walls of the hotel show the bay completely filled with fishing boats and residents of the now uninhabited island of St Kilda. The setting of the restaurant is sublime with stunning views over Kisimul Castle to the golden white sands of Vatersay and beyond. The menu and service of food match the quality of the surroundings and we promise to make the long return journey sometime in the future to book a bay window table while watching the arrival of the evening ferry blessed by a summer sunset.

Bliss!!