And then I arrived. Lewis is nothing that I had expected, but then I am not 
entirely sure what I did expect. It was raining, Nick had fore-warned me and from the many green faces that left the ferry at breakneck speed, I had guessed that the crossing wasn’t the enjoyable experience that it should have been. As I sat on the mid deck writing the last blog I had watched men, women and children alike rush for the bathroom in order to evacuate. It was rough. But stood on the Quayside, camera in hand was Nick and his father (John). It was wonderful to see a familiar face once again and brilliant to realise that someone was actually as excited about you arriving as you were about being there.
It had been 1,500 miles of travel. 1,500 miles of adventure and for the first time I really felt that I was in familiar territory.
We sat we drank tea and wine and Bumble (Nick’s mum) plied me with Dark Chocolate to get my energy back, and cheese and biscuits, and we talked. I hadn’t really talked or listened for a couple of days and it felt good, safe, friendly. I slept as I haven’t for a week, exhaustion taking over from the excitement which had kept me going this long. But still by the time I rose the rain had stopped, the sky had cleared and the county-side looked fabulous.
I was asked and offered a hundred things to do, but remained non-committal and just went with the flow. This was my time to relax and so relax I did. But what a day. We drove the length of Lewis and down into Harris, a smaller island linked by bridges. Where Lewis is quite flat and open, Harris – by way of comparison – is hard and rugged; each complimenting the other.
My personal love was for Harris, the scenery stunning. We rounded mountains and drove along headland which just caught your breath and excited your senses. The sheep rule the roads, walking about as if to command and you have to wait. As we drove to the Bridge to Nowhere they lined the road and stood defiant daring us to drive on through; standing at the side of the road like gangs of ‘chavs’ and ‘chavettes’ daring to give us a go if we threatened them with mint sauce.
We had lunch on the beach, watching the birds and listening to the sea. Then a brisk wall along the sea-line and a cup of tea to round it off. The Golden road produced some stunning views and an opportunity to sit and observe seals basking in the sun on a small island just off shore. 20+ seals lay in the sun, occasionally dipping into the Loch for a swim before returning to bathe in the warmth of the afternoon. The day was peaceful, quiet and filled with warmth. The rain, it seemed had drifted away.
entirely sure what I did expect. It was raining, Nick had fore-warned me and from the many green faces that left the ferry at breakneck speed, I had guessed that the crossing wasn’t the enjoyable experience that it should have been. As I sat on the mid deck writing the last blog I had watched men, women and children alike rush for the bathroom in order to evacuate. It was rough. But stood on the Quayside, camera in hand was Nick and his father (John). It was wonderful to see a familiar face once again and brilliant to realise that someone was actually as excited about you arriving as you were about being there.It had been 1,500 miles of travel. 1,500 miles of adventure and for the first time I really felt that I was in familiar territory.
We sat we drank tea and wine and Bumble (Nick’s mum) plied me with Dark Chocolate to get my energy back, and cheese and biscuits, and we talked. I hadn’t really talked or listened for a couple of days and it felt good, safe, friendly. I slept as I haven’t for a week, exhaustion taking over from the excitement which had kept me going this long. But still by the time I rose the rain had stopped, the sky had cleared and the county-side looked fabulous.
I was asked and offered a hundred things to do, but remained non-committal and just went with the flow. This was my time to relax and so relax I did. But what a day. We drove the length of Lewis and down into Harris, a smaller island linked by bridges. Where Lewis is quite flat and open, Harris – by way of comparison – is hard and rugged; each complimenting the other.
My personal love was for Harris, the scenery stunning. We rounded mountains and drove along headland which just caught your breath and excited your senses. The sheep rule the roads, walking about as if to command and you have to wait. As we drove to the Bridge to Nowhere they lined the road and stood defiant daring us to drive on through; standing at the side of the road like gangs of ‘chavs’ and ‘chavettes’ daring to give us a go if we threatened them with mint sauce.We had lunch on the beach, watching the birds and listening to the sea. Then a brisk wall along the sea-line and a cup of tea to round it off. The Golden road produced some stunning views and an opportunity to sit and observe seals basking in the sun on a small island just off shore. 20+ seals lay in the sun, occasionally dipping into the Loch for a swim before returning to bathe in the warmth of the afternoon. The day was peaceful, quiet and filled with warmth. The rain, it seemed had drifted away.
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