Highlands and Islands (2)

The bus ride revealed the true sense of isolation that typefies the Outer Hebrides: there's a bleakness of the type that I've never seen before. Something with a different quality to it: not the vast nothingness of the Nullabor Plain, nor the alpine tundra of the mountains of Sichuan. A few houses dotted the almost lunar landscape. Howling winds blew. When I got to the stones, it was so windy that it was virtually impossible to take any pictures. There was a bus load of tourists though, and they somehow managed to take away some of the sense of isolation and bleakness.

I had another half hour to kill before the next bus came and so I whiled away my time at the lovely cafe attached to the visitor centre - they made delicious fruit scones. The Outer Hebrides is a good place to visit when you have your own car; otherwise you're at the mercy of the somewhat unreliable and skeletal bus service. While it is possible to tour the islands by public transport, you lose all your flexibility.

My next stop was the Butt of Lewis at the top of the ocean where there was a lovely beach, and, my first glimpse of the Atlantic Ocean. Gigantic waves pounded the golden sand, and woe to the sod who decides to have a swim! Not surprisingly, two people drowned around here this very weekend.

I spent some of that night at a pub on the main street of Stornoway. Every night has a different theme for the islanders - Thursday night was a night where anyone can perform their music - a true free for all. I chatted for a bit with a lady about my age who was working in Aberdeen at a school for children with autism and mentioned I had once written a mini-thesis on autism. She was taking a holiday by herself here for a week. I thought that these islands must be favourite places for people with autism: they're so lonely and utterly isolating.

When I woke up the next morning, it was raining. The rain got heavier and heavier. The part of the island called Harris is usually more sheltered than Lewis (the top half) but when I got to Tarbert, the main town of Harris (which was little more than a tourist information centre and a ferry terminal) it was bucketing down cats and dogs. Here I was meant to catch the ferry to Uig on the Isle of Skye. There was absolutely nothing to do except wait at the ferry terminal. After a very bumpy ride on the ferry, I got to Uig only to find that the bus to Portree had left before any of the ferry passengers could catch it! So in the pouring rain, six of us caught a taxi - cheaper than the bus fare, but my bus fare was covered by my travel pass. It continued to be soggy.

The Highlands and Islands

I got myself a Freedom of Scotland Pass and took a few days off work to travel around the wilder areas of Scotland, i.e. the Highlands and Islands. These were well-known places I'd heard of even before planning my trip. And the kind of places I thought of would be interesting.

First off I went to the northernmost corner of Britain. This involved a wonderful train ride from Inverness to Wick which is way up north. (Check it out on a map!) The scenery was brilliant, you have dramatic coastline, sheep pastures (baa!) as well as oh, so bleak and barren wastelands, especially at the northern end. For much of the trip, I found myself struggling to stay awake. There is something somnogenic about the quiet rumbling of a train.

Anyway, about lunchtime I got to the destination of Wick, which is a pretty little town, if a little depressing. It has the usual shopping mall although cars were driving on it anyway. There really wasn't much to do here, except take a couple of photos as a souvenir. I did so and the next thing I did was to hop on a bus to John O'Groat's - the northeasternmost corner of Great Britain. (This was included in my travel pass.)

JOG - what a dump! This has got to be the most depressing place I've ever been to, even though the sun shined. About the best thing that can be said about the place is the view to the Orkney Islands for which I didn't even have time to get to. It basically consisted of a jumble of shoddy souvenir shops selling faux kilts and shortbread that was probably baked in a worker-exploiting factory near Shanghai. Humbug! From there I proceeded to Thurso, Britain's northernmost town, another bleak and dingy place from where I caught the train back to Inverness. The highlight of the day was bumping into a group of beautiful girls who had fundraised their way on bikes from Land's End in Cornwall (the other end of the country where there is a place just as tasteless) for the last month and a half. Even they mentioned they didn't like John O'Groats. Well, I was warned!

Next stop was the Outer Hebrides - called Ebudae by the Latins. Enya mentions them a lot in her songs. This involves a boat ride from Ullapool, a lovely resort town in itself. The boat I went on was huge, probably as big as the Spirit of Tasmania. It was full of islanders who had spent some of the summer holidays on the mainland returning to their beloved abode. The scenery on this boat ride was fantastic, it would of even been better had it not been so windy and not rained for a while.

After three hours, the boat finally got to Stornoway, the largest town in the Outer Hebrides, located on the isle of Lewis. I had been told before that Stornoway was yet another one of those characterless towns noted for nothing else but dinginess and depression, yet this time I couldn't be further from the truth. The streets were packed with people, both from the islands and holidaymakers. Cafes and pubs lined the streets giving an atmosphere reminiscent of a seaside resort in Victoria, like Anglesea or Apollo Bay. I checked into a ramshackle hostel I had pre-booked earlier, to find it occupied with travellers around Europe.

The other thing I noticed about Stornoway was that all the streets were in Gaelic with English in small print beneath. Gaelic (pronounced gallic) is a Celtic language spoken by perhaps half of the Islander population. In recent years there has been a concerted move to preserve it, especially by the new SNP (Scottish National Party) led Scottish Government. The island is also well known for strict observance to the Sabbath and conservative religious values, especially the older residents. EVERYTHING shuts down on Sunday, if you have no food in the fridge, you will simply starve. Lucky I arrived on a weekday.

I hopped on a bus to the Callanish Standing Stones - an ancient stone circle originally thought to be used as a burial ground for Stone Age islanders.

Mini-Update; the Soldiers' Video

I'm currently back in Glasgow after a weekend (that's since Thursday) in the Outer Hebrides and Skye. More details later.

I would like to take this opportunity though to show my personal condemnation at the Howard Government's non-response to videos of Australian soldiers dressed in Ku Klux Klan outfits and binge-drinking. It sends an extremely negative and abhorrent message to the world about our country, although it was hardly surprising, considering Howard's refusal to denounce Pauline Hanson and her One Nation Party at their peak in the late 1990s.

If Howard can equate voting for the Democrats in the US as giving comfort to terrorists and fail to criticize this kind of behaviour from our own armed forces it just shows how much of a narrow-minded, outdated and racially prejudiced person he actually is. And attempting to use this issue to win him another election! Howard MUST be defeated for the sake of Australia's international reputation, and I look forward to joining the fray when I return in early October. I highly doubt that the election will be held before then given recent opinion polling.