The Northern Machair and Benbecula

Monday 8th June 2015

I first had the idea of walking the whole length of the Outer Hebrides soon after my visit in 2011 and a search on the internet brought to my notice a book by Peter Clarke (published by Northampton Square Ltd) called "The Timeless Way" that describes a walk the author did along the Western Isles starting from the Butt of Lewis and ending on the Isle of Vatersay. This book became my inspiration throughout my planning of this walk even though I eventually decided to do the walk in the other direction. When I heard the local council was planning to build a long distance path across the Hebrides that would be completed summer 2015 I decided this was when I was going to be doing my long awaited walk. Unfortunately the building of the new Hebridean Way seems to have been delayed as up to this point in my trek I hadn’t seen a single trace of this new path, much to my disappointment. The day before this walk I had seen a new path near Loch Druidibeag, but I have no idea whether this is part of the Hebridean Way.

Since I had no idea of the route of the new long distance path, and there is no sign of it on the ground, I had to resort to the route of Peter Clarke’s Timeless Way written almost ten years ago. Unfortunately, for various reasons I had not been sticking exactly to this route and that had led to me doing a lot of walking along roads, which was becoming very tiresome. By the end of this day I was so fed up with all the road walking I was thinking of abandoning the whole trek. Ultimately I should have waited a year or two until the new Hebridean Way was built and all the signage was in place as I’m sure I would have enjoyed that walk considerably more than this one. At the start of this day it was raining once again, which it had been doing every day of my holiday and was itself bringing me down, but it soon stopped raining and it would not rain again for a whole week.

I started the walk by resuming along the Machair Way, which I had walked along on Saturday. On that day I had thought the Machair Way was badly signposted, but now I began to spot the arrowed signs that marked the route and wondered if I had simply been unobservant. My route headed north across the wildflower-rich grasslands of the machair until eventually I left all trace of a track or path and continued north across the fields with the birds continuing to screech overhead that had been accompanying me throughout my walk across the machair. Eventually I reached the edge of the Hebrides Range, which I had skirted the day before, but now, since it was not active, I was able to continue north across the middle of the missile testing range just as Peter Clarke had done when he walked the Timeless Way. The new Hebridean Way will, I presume, go around the military range, but I have no idea what route it will take.

Near the barracks I joined one of the range roads and followed this for a while until my unending quest north prompted me to leave the road and head across the grasslands once again until I eventually left the rocket range behind at Cill Amhlaid. My onward progress now was tediously along the road that passes the townships that line along the northern edge of North Uist with views across the sea and over the South Ford to the island of Benbecula. It was curious to see, dotted beside the road, several small mother and child shrines that date from the 1950s when the Hebrides Range was being established. This reminder of the deeply ingrained Catholic culture in this area is unique in the British Isles and made me feel like I was walking in a different country far from Britain. I followed the road through the townships that hug the coast until eventually I reached the main road at Carnan where a short walk across the causeway brought me to the fifth island on my Hebridean expedition, Benbecula.

After stopping at the Co-op in Cregorry for some food, I turned off the main road onto the coastal road and after passing a school I took a road on the right north that became a path and after passing through Torlum took me to Griminish township. The Timeless Way turns east at this point to a path that Peter Clarke described as “rather soggy,” however I was concerned that I was running out of money so needed to head to the north-western corner of the island and the relatively bustling town of Balivanich. A path is marked on the map from Griminish that would take me in the right direction, but soon after taking it I was led into a quagmire that was rather more than soggy. Against common sense I kept going for longer than I should until eventually with no trace of a path around me I came to my senses and waded back through the bogs until I was once more back on the road. Feeling more than a little frustrated with Hebridean footpaths I wearily walked along the road back onto the coastal road and eventually reached Balivanich.

This town was actually quite a surprise for me as it doesn’t conform to the Hebridean norms that I had become used to, due to several small estates of ex-Ministry of Defence housing that made the town seem positively suburban. The military base and the nearby airport has transformed Balivanich into the administrative centre of the Uist islands and was ideal for my aim of getting some money and some non-food supplies, for which MacGilivray’s, a gift shop, was very helpful. Peter Clarke was disappointed that his Timeless Way didn’t go through Balivanich and that he didn’t get a chance to visit MacGilivray’s, so at least on my diversion I was able to do that. Following the road out of the town I climbed past Loch Dùn Mhurchaidh to the main road and along a track opposite past the local tip and around Ruabhal, the highest hill on Benbecula, to the point where the track just starts to descend and there I made camp with a view across the loch-filled eastern moor.

My end point on this walk was a tranquil spot with no sign of civilisation besides the track to Ròsinis on the eastern coast, but the rest of the day had not been good. It was a very tiring walk and I felt that I had not encountered anything of interest throughout the day. However, I had passed extensive wildflower-rich grasslands on the machair and dramatic coastal scenery between Benbecula and South Uist, but I felt like I had already seen views such as these before, and that I was unbelievably getting used to the unique Hebridean landscape. I had reached the low point of my holiday at the end of this day, so much so that I considered abandoning the whole thing. I was disappointed in the non-appearance of the new Hebridean Way and was not confident that the Timeless Way was going to deliver a satisfying walk. It is tragic to think that in the stunning surroundings below Ruabhal I was wishing I’d never started.

Loch Druidibeag and the beach on South Uist

Sunday 7th June 2015

When I was previously on the Isle of South Uist, in 2011, staying at the Howmore Youth Hostel, I did a walk from Ralph Storer’s definitive guide to the “100 Best Routes on Scottish Mountains” that involved climbing the three highest hills on the island: Beinn Mhor, Ben Corodale and Hecla. On that occasion I got to the top of the highest of the three, Beinn Mhor, when bad weather forced me to abandon the walk. On this return visit I had intended on doing the whole walk during a two-night rest at the Howmore Youth Hostel during my Hebridean trek north. However when I got to the hostel the previous evening, I was so thoroughly exhausted after carrying a heavy rucksack all day I really didn’t have the energy to then climb three mountains. Instead I decided I would take it easy and after a slow start to the day I wandered down to the coast and slowly made my way up the beach.

I wouldn’t have done the hill walk if the weather had been bad again, but the weather was a lot better than four years ago with good weather almost all day even though it was a bit breezy, which seems to be the norm in the Outer Hebrides. The wind wasn’t as strong as it had been the day before, but it had shifted to the north bringing such a chill to the air that I often wore gloves despite the sunshine. As I walked up the coast I reflected on the rubbish that I was seeing that had presumably been washed up from the sea and made me feel really depressed about mankind and the way we treat the planet. There were millions of plastic bottles, and also old tires, pallets and even a microwave. After walking along a track behind the dunes for a while I decided to drop down onto the beach and enjoy the stunning weather with a retreating tide making for views that were amazing. A beach appeals on a primal level to us all, or maybe it appeals especially to anyone born within a hundred miles of the sea, i.e. anyone born in Britain.

I wandered slowly up the beach while taking loads of pictures and hopping around the shoreline playing with the lapping seas. The cold weather was not a concern as I basked in the blue skies, the sunshine and in the churning seas. Eventually I tore myself away from the beach and onto the track that took me to a white flagpole that marks the edge of the Hebrides Range. On a Sunday the missile testing range was not going to be active, but I was wondering about the next day when I would be passing through this area again on my Hebridean trek. Since I was in the area I thought I’d explore my options for the next day, but I couldn’t find much of a route until after I had crossed several fields and eventually found a clear track that took me away from the military range through the township of West Gerinish to the main road, where there didn’t seem to be anything to help me with my route for the next day.

On reaching the main road I turned south for a short distance to a road that heads up to the top of the small hill, Ruabhal, where the control centre for the range is situated. Technically I wasn’t supposed to walk up to the range control, but I wanted to get a view across the flat machair grasslands out to the coast. The hills on North Uist could clearly be seen, but it was the extensive views of the loch-filled coastal plain of South Uist that caught my eye. Before reaching the range control buildings I turned off the road to a tall, white stone statue situated on the western side of the hill. This statue of a mother and child is known as “Our Lady of the Isles”, but since I’m not catholic it held little interest for me except for the views that can be seen of the surrounding area from beside the statue. It reminded me of the statue that I had seen on the side of Heaval on the Isle of Barra that overlooks Castlebay, but this one is on a much bigger scale.

After taking a few pictures I headed straight back down to the road and after eating my lunch I continued heading south beside the road until I reached a crossroads with Grogarry to my right and a road to Loch Sgiopoirt to my left. I took this latter road past delightful lochs away from the wildflower-rich machair plains that I had previously been walking through in South Uist into the bulk of the island made up of heather and bog-filled moors and hills. The three hills that I had originally planned to walk up on this day was now dominating my view and they were teasing me with what could have been as I made my way along the road until I reached a small car park and the start of a small track that headed back towards the main road. After a short distance this track became a recently constructed, and heavily manufactured, path that led across the boggy, heathery ground.

If a path is going to be heavily used on this sort of terrain then a heavily manufactured gravel path is what is needed, but I couldn’t help wondering why this path had been built, and whether I could use it on my trek north. This path would make a great addition to the trek, but I couldn’t see how that would help unless there was another path from the Loch Sgioport road that led to the minor road near Loch Sheileabhaig. It was a delight to walk along this excellent path and added to my enjoyment of the walk through this stunning nature reserve until finally I returned to the main road near the township of Drimsdale. When I realised where I was I was astonished as my map had indicated that the path went to Stilligarry, which must mean that this new path follows a completely different route to the one marked on the map. While musing on this I followed the road through Drimsdale to Drimsdale House where I turned left along the Machair Way back to Howmore.

When I got back to Howmore the weather was stunning with the low tide enticing me to venture back onto the beach where I took countless pictures of the sea, but it was the view inland that really attracted my attention. The three hills of Beinn Mhor, Ben Corodale and Hecla were arrayed in glorious fashion and looked stunning with the white sands in the foreground and these hills in the distance, but I think the best picture of these hills, and one that I’ve seen on postcards, is taken from the bridge over the River Roag. This sight encapsulated a fabulous day that more than made up for missing out on walking up these three hills, but since most of the day these hills had been enveloped in cloud I was reassured that I had made the right decision. This was just the sort of walk that I needed after my near total exhaustion at the end of the previous day.

The Machair Way

Saturday 6th June 2015

After a wet and windy night spent at the Kilbride Campsite where surprisingly I got a good night's sleep despite some people in the campsite thinking my tent was going to blow away in the night. With the windy weather continuing I set off along the grass verge between the road and the sea along the south coast of South Uist. A faint path in the verge led me to the Pollachar Inn where a signpost pointed north beside the west coast of the island along the Machair Way. For the whole rest of the day I would be following the Machair Way, unfortunately this was the only sign for the Machair Way that I saw on my walk beside the coast so I had no help in finding my way. At first I had a clear path to follow with the sun shining brightly and a strong wind coming off the sea making the walking more difficult but with stunning views out to sea made more dramatic by the wind-churned waves. On the land I encountered several occasional artefacts of an earlier age starting with a standing stone near the signpost that had directed me up the Machair Way.

Apart from the strong winds the weather was good most of the day, but occasionally heavy showers came over forcing me to put my waterproofs on only for the rain to stop soon after and with the sun coming back out I soon had to take those waterproofs back off. This was really annoying by the end of the day and ultimately didn’t endear me to a walk that was long and tiring despite being on the flat grasslands on the west coast of South Uist that are known as machair. These grasslands are highly fertile so are used extensively for farming with cattle on some sections or ploughed for crops in other areas. In the summer the machair is covered in flowers and when I was in South Uist four years ago there was a spectacular display of wildflowers particularly clover, buttercups and daisies. That was just a month later in the year but was a much better display than I got on this walk which was disappointing for me as I think more flowers on this walk would have enlivened the long trek.

As I made my way north it was difficult to decide the right way to go as there was no coherent path along the way. Occasionally there would be a farmer’s track to follow but all too soon this would swing back inland and I would have to try and find a pathless route through the dunes or on the western edge of the machair. Whenever I felt prompted to go down onto the beach I was buffeted by strong winds and assailed by the stench of rotting seaweed that was at times overpowering and forced me back inland. After several hours walking I thought I must be near an archaeological feature marked on maps as an Aisled House, or a wheelhouse. I couldn’t find any trace of it, but an internet search now says there is little trace of it now on the ground so it’s probably not surprising that I missed it. Instead I followed a track that headed inland across the machair to Daliburgh where a Co-op provided me with food for lunch and for the next few days.

The weather was good at this time and I had a lovely, sunny walk on this extensive diversion, but on my way back to the coast I had the wind right in my face so ultimately this also wasn’t very pleasant. This diversion had taken me more than an hour and when I finally resumed my trek north with a much heavier rucksack I was a lot more tired and hardly stopped when I reached a well-signposted roundhouse that is marked on maps as Taighean Cruinn Cladh Hàlainn. This sunken ring of stones did little to excite me and as I headed away from it I was actually more excited by the prospect of coming to the northern edge of my first map, even if my excitement was dampened by the knowledge that I had another four maps to go. After finding my way through a golf course (fortunately the strong winds had kept the golfers away) I found a better track that took me through the dunes and north beside the coast. The afternoon progressed much as the morning had with a clear track to follow for only some of the time and often I had to find my own way.

I felt like I had been walking for hours but was making little progress on the map and this was getting me frustrated as the time seemed to be advancing quickly but my destination still seemed a long way away. After an age I realised that the path I was following was turning west towards the rocky promontory of Rudha Aird a’ Mhuile. I had walked around this headland four years ago and was in no mood to extend my walk now so when I could I turned and headed inland on a clear track until near Loch Bhornais I turned north again along another clear track. I had had enough of this walk by now and just wanted it to end as quickly as possible. Instead of trying to stay beside the coast, even when there wasn’t a track to follow, I decided I would stay on tracks all the way even when they veered far from the beach. So it was that with wearying legs I struggled on with an increasingly heavier rucksack and yet a grim determination to reach the youth hostel at Howmore even if it killed me.

Despite the weather throwing another heavy rain shower at me that forced me to put my waterproofs on again (and had me shouting at the rain!), I soldiered on until eventually I reached a road near Stoneybridge. On paper I thought this was going to be an easy day with a gentle stroll along the flat machair grassland, but the strong winds and lack of a clear path had made it very tiring. This walk took me a long time so that by the time I collapsed in the Howmore Youth Hostel I was really tired, but happy to see at the hostel the Italian guy who I’d last seen in Castlebay on the Isle of Barra. He’d had a much easier journey than me as he hadn’t walked the whole way. The weather on this walk was both good and bad. Bright sunshine had accompanied me for much of the day, but so had strong winds and occasionally this brought heavy rain. By the time I reached the hostel I was so weary I was in pain and could barely stand straight, though oddly as soon as I took my rucksack off I felt as light as a feather and immediately bounded off to the local post office only to find that it had shut several years ago. This was a long, tiring walk beside a smelly beach against strong winds. I’m sorry I didn’t enjoy it.

Eriskay

Friday 5th June 2015

When I got up on this morning it was chucking it down with rain and it was still raining when I got off the bus at North Bay, the point that I’d reached on my Hebridean trek the day before. I had planned on spending the morning exploring the northern end of the Isle of Barra around the village of Eoligarry, but in the view of the weather I just walked along the road. I was already beginning to feel fed up with walking along roads at this point on my holiday and unfortunately it would not get any better. Despite the rain this wasn’t a bad little walk along the road as Barra is a beautiful island with many wild flowers growing beside the road including bright yellow marsh-marigolds in the drainage ditches and bluebells under the trees. I was disappointed to be leaving the Isle of Barra so soon and was particularly disappointed that the weather had not been better for me. I had hoped to walk along the enormous beach of Tràigh Mhòr that is so big it has a permanent airfield on the sands, but when I got to the southern tip I found that the tide was in so I just headed straight to the ferry terminal and sheltered there from the rain for an hour until the ferry came.

It was still raining when the ferry left Barra, but when I got off the ferry on the Isle of Eriskay it had stopped raining and the sun was coming out. After a horrible morning the afternoon was fabulous as Eriskay basked in bright sunshine that was glorious to behold even though it was windy. Not far from the ferry terminal is an impressive beach called Coilleag a’ Phrionnsa (the Prince’s Strand), where Bonnie Prince Charlie first landed on British soil. This is a fabulous beach so as soon as I got off the ferry I took my waterproofs off and wandered along the beach enjoying the sunshine and continued around the headland to more gorgeous beaches on this north-western corner of Eriskay. I took loads of pictures and spent ages just gazing in awe at the view out to sea across the Sound of Eriskay to South Uist and back towards Barra across the Sound. In the sunshine these beaches seemed extra special and I didn’t want to leave them, but eventually I climbed up into the town (Am Baile) and had my lunch.

Since I had not explored the northern end of Barra I now had plenty of time to explore Eriskay, so after having lunch I wandered through the town and climbed up the hillside past a football pitch that has been recognised by FIFA as one of eight unique places to play the game in the world, even though the pitch is rather bumpy. The stunning views continued as I climbed up to the road and followed it south eventually taking a track on the left to a water treatment plant. Behind the plant there is supposed to be a line of wooden posts that mark a route across the hillside, but just as on Vatersay I found that they were few and far between with no clear path. I didn’t intend on following the marker posts all the way as I had my eyes on Beinn Sciathan, the highest point on Eriskay, so after following the seemingly randomly-located posts for a while I abandoned them and made my own way steeply up a rake to the top of Beinn Sciathan.

The views from the top were simply amazing as Eriskay is a small island so I had sea all around me that reminded me of when in a movie a person who is stranded on a deserted island and climbs to the highest point. The blue skies made the sea a gorgeous deep blue colour that made the view even more astonishing and mesmerising, but the strong winds prompted me to not linger at the top so I soon started heading down the hill in a north-easterly direction towards Rosinish Point. This was a thoroughly enjoyable descent in great weather with amazing sea views ahead of me across the spot where the SS Politician had sank on 5th February 1941 while carrying more than 250,000 bottles of scotch whisky. After passing the abandoned village of Rosinish I came down to the beach opposite the island of Calvay which is almost joined to Eriskay by a crescent shaped sand spit. This is where the SS Politician went down, but unfortunately there’s no sign of it now, or its whisky.

Since there was no whisky galore I made my way onto an old road which led me onto a modern road past modern houses back to the township of Eriskay. I couldn’t believe how good the weather was for this walk once I had gotten off the ferry. The contrast was astonishing, where Barra had been wet, grey and miserable, Eriskay was sunny and warm with blue skies surrounded by a deep blue sea. At the end of the day I reluctantly left the island of Eriskay and walked across the causeway to the island of South Uist. Weather does play an important part in how enjoyable the day is going to be, but ultimately all it does is improve the views and the pictures that I take of that view. The weather cannot add what isn’t there, but on this day the Isle of Eriskay was able to show itself in the best light returning stunning views that are hard to beat anywhere in the country.

Vatersay and Barra

Thursday 4th June 2015

Soon after my first visit to the Outer Hebrides in 2011 I had the idea of walking along the entire length of these western isles from the southernmost inhabited island all the way up to the northern tip on the Isle of Lewis. At the time it was a very grand idea that was nothing like anything that I had done before, but in the intervening years I have been preparing and practicing until finally I felt I was ready and unwilling to delay another year so with extra holiday booked from work I set off to achieve my audacious goal. Catching the train to Oban I got onto the ferry to the beautiful island of Barra. When I reached Castlebay I was greeted with fantastic weather and stunning evening views out to sea across the bay and past the castle-topped rock that sits in the middle of the bay. I felt excited at the prospect of spending the next two weeks in the Outer Hebrides with scenery as stunning at this.

Unfortunately the following morning it was overcast and as I waited for the bus it started drizzling. This early morning bus, which had just me and an Italian cabbie (who I would meet again several times during my holiday), dropped us off on the tiny island of Vatersay between Vatersay Bay and West Bay just before reaching the township of Vatersay. When I had been in the Outer Hebrides in 2011 I had bought a small booklet of Walks in the Western Isles (published by Hallewell) and the last walk in the guidebook describes “A short loop through the beaches and grazing land of the southernmost inhabited island in the Western Isles” around Vatersay, so I thought that would be a good place for me to start my epic Hebridean trek. Taking a path across the wildflower-rich machair I soon reached Tràigh Siar, West Beach, and the first of many beaches that I would walk upon in this holiday.

The weather may not have been great but at least it wasn’t raining as I explored the small beach before climbing the grassy hills above the bay and left my Italian companion behind to do his own walk. The views from the top of the old fort, Dun Bhatarsaigh, across the bay and towards the township of Vatersay were so peaceful and tranquil that I felt the chaotic, modern demands of spreadsheets and presentations just drift away. Following infrequent wooden posts I headed south across the rocky, and at times boggy, terrain until I eventually reached the southernmost tip of this southernmost inhabited island in the Outer Hebrides. The island of Sandray loomed large across the sea while other uninhabited islands, Pabbay and Mingulay among many others, continue the chain south, but Vatersay is the southernmost inhabited island so this was my starting point. A huge slab of rock and a strong smell of rotting seaweed was all that I found at Heillanish, the southernmost tip, so I turned around and headed towards South Bay.

This is a gorgeous beach with almost white sand fringed by a shingle bank, but rain brought my waterproofs back out just before the sun came out as I was climbing above the bay and onto the grassy machair to the east. There followed at this point a pleasant walk across a grassy hillside that was covered with primroses and other wildflowers including occasionally the delightful spotted-orchid. Above the abandoned settlement of Eòrasdail the route turned and on approaching the waters of Vatersay Bay headed back west towards the white sands of East Beach not far from the township of Vatersay. At the northern end of this beach I had reached the end of the Vatersay Circular Walk and now I had to make my own way north. Not wanting to walk along the road I veered off after passing the old school house and followed a line of electricity pylons on what I thought was a path, but was probably just sheep trails or maybe the course of an old wall.

Except for visiting a memorial beside a Second World War aircraft wreck, I followed this turfed-over old wall past the Uidh peninsula before dropping back down onto the road beside a jetty. My enthusiasm to find off-road routes didn’t last very long as once I was back on the road I stayed there around the edge of Cornaig Bay and up to the small causeway that links Vatersay to Barra. Once back on the Isle of Barra I stayed on the road all the way back to Castlebay while the weather gradually improved so that by the time I was having lunch looking out over the bay the sun was shining. Leaving Castlebay behind I started climbing the hill out of the town and left the road at the highest point onto the steep hillside up to the highest point on the island of Barra, Heabhal. There are stunning views from the slopes of Heabhal across Castlebay towards Vatersay and beyond to the uninhabited islands south. I paused many times during the steep climb to look at that view while catching my breath.

Near the top of Heabhal is a white statue of the Virgin and Child looking across the bay. Such statues are common in Catholic countries, but I have never seen any in the United Kingdom, except in the Outer Hebrides where Catholic symbols are commonplace. The summit of Heabhal is not far from the statue, but cloud had enveloped the top so I didn’t linger and passing along the summit ridge I continued heading north, which would always be my ultimate aim on this holiday, along the ridge of hills that form the backbone of Barra. Despite the overcast skies and cold breeze the weather seemed mild and I enjoyed making my own way along the pathless hills heading over Hartabhal, Grianan and Beinn Bheireasaigh along the main ridge of the island. There were little variation in height on the ridge and gradually headed downhill, so it was without much effort I enjoyably made my across the island and eventually came onto the road at the western end of Loch an Dùin near North Bay.

It had been my intention to catch a bus back to Castlebay from North Bay, but I had failed to check the timetable and if I had I would have seen that the only bus was an hour later. Rather than wait I started walking towards Castlebay along the east coast road hoping to catch the bus when it came up behind me, however that bus took a west coast route so two hours after leaving North Bay I eventually reached Castlebay in the pouring rain. Despite this wearying end to the day this was a sensational walk that the rest of the holiday would find hard to beat and was a good start to my trek up the Hebrides, helped by not carrying a heavy rucksack. The Vatersay Circular Walk was a definite highlight of the day, but the traverse of the line of hills that run up the centre of the island was also an enjoyable part of the day. Although there were a lot of ups and downs on this holiday I didn’t climb any mountains so that astonishingly Heabhal, just 384 metres high, was the highest point I climbed on my entire holiday.