Tuesday 22/08/06

After a latish rise, I have a cooked breakfast and am presently joined by Mrs B's nephew for a chat. Two cyclists arrive off the ferry. Following lunch, mrs B and I pack ourselves off by bus to Gearrannan. The bus leaves at 14.30, with several tourists on board. It is a nice afternoon, with occasional sunshine and variable amounts of cloud. A hiker is walking up the Cleascro Road between Leurbost and Achamor. The bus gets stuck behind a slow-moving car, which is towing a trailer full of discarded kitchen units. A few people are dropped off outside their houses in Achamor. You have great views over to the Harris hills from there, even better if you climb Eitsal, the hill with the radio and TV transmitters. At Gearraidh na h-Aibhne [Garynahine] passengers for Bernera change into a minibus. One tourist couple ask to be dropped off at Callanish III, one of the stone circles on the approach to the main site. The one-eyed dog along the access road to the main site at Callanish no longer comes running out to greet the bus; haven't seen him all year, and I think he's dead. A flurry of tourists join the bus on its onward journey north to Carloway. The local expert on the Callanish monument alights at his house, on the border between Callanish and the next village, Breascleit. Unusually, nobody has to get off at the Pier in Breascleit. There is a passenger though for the village bus into Tolsta-Chaolais, at the North West Autopoint Garage. On arrival at Carloway, the bus pulls into a buspark behind the primary school. The little darlings come piling out on the dot at 3.30, and after they're all seated, the bus carries on to Gearrannan, the Blackhouse Village. Now, Blackhouse is actually a mistaken translation. The Gaelic is Taigh Tugaidh, which means Thatched House. But, the pronounciation of the Gaelic word "dubh" [black] is close to that of "tugaidh", so the mistake is easily made. We have visited the Gearrannan site before, so we go up the hill behind the village to catch the view. It is very clear weather this afternoon. Can make out the wee lighthouse at Lamishader Point to the west, Old Hill, Aird Uig and the Flannan Isles. The latter group, indistinctly visible on one of the pictures in the gallery, lies 40 miles to the west. In December 1900, the three lighthouse keepers disappeared without trace in a ferocious storm. When the light was reported out, the Lighthouse Board sent a boat to investigate. They found the keepers gone, a table set with a meal ready to be eaten. The light was ready to be lit. A huge wave is thought to have caught the keepers and swept them away. Evidence of a hasty exit was found. I'll reprint the poem Flannan Isle by Wilfrid Gibson in a separate entry. Notice that the thatch in the village has been replaced. We have a cup of tea with carrot cake in the restaurant before the minibus leaves for Carloway at 4.30. This is full of schoolkids, this time from the Shawbost school, 6 miles to the east. We are unceremoniously dumped on the crossroads at the bridge and told to shelter in the busshelter. Why? I don't know. No, we just have a look round the War Memorial and marvel at the intricacies of the road system in the village. Two buses pull in just before 4.55, departure time. Both are going to Stornoway, but one is heading through Callanish (back the way we came), the other goes through Barvas, 12 miles to the east. When this last one comes in, two familiar faces alight: the couple who went round Callanish earlier on. I direct them to the Gearrannan minibus, which is waiting across the road. Once on board this vehicle, it's a case of sitting back and enjoying the views. Dalbeg is the highpoint in this respect. A shop is called L for Leather. Tourists who came out of the School Museum are a bit late in flagging the bus down. They want to go to Arnol. We head there through Bragar. Don't visit the Arnol Blackhouse if you've got breathing problems. In the middle of that blackhouse, an open peatfire is sitting there smoking, with the smoke leaving the building through the thatch. No chimney. The bus returns to town at 5.45, and we pop into Somerfields for shopping. A knock on the door at 7.20 reveals two familiar faces: yes, the couple we also encountered at Callanish and Carloway. They came off the ferry this afternoon, but didn't have any accommodation. Mrs B doesn't have any on offer. Late in the evening, it rains.