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.