Scotland Part 1 - The Outer Hebrides
2021 Aug/Sep (BikePacking)

These are a series of blogs, of day by day diary entries, that capture my "gap month" in Scotland. Two years in the planning and delayed three times due to Covid, I finally managed to live this adventure. I cycled, self supported, over 1,000 miles in a month around Scotland in August/September 2021. This was a very personal journey and I am so proud of what I achieved and the physical and mental limits I pushed myself to.

Thursday 26 August

Wow...surreal, scary, daring, liberating... a month to adventure! I am sitting on train to Oban running along side Loch Lomond. Awesome weather, lovely evening. I am an hour from Conan Ferry station where I will meet my friend Neil and cycle to his place. Cars, ferries, cycling and now the train. The car journey was long and it was a weird feeling crossing into Scotland knowing this was home for the next month! What awaits? 

It was a scorching hot start at the Glasgow airport care hire return depot, and once I had unloaded the hire car, and assembled and packed the bike, I was hot and bothered. I climbed on the bike and thought to myself what am I doing?! There was no going back now though! 

I only experienced a snippet of Glasgow cycling from airport on a route that took me in via Renfrew. This included going "up the Clyde on a bike" courtesy of the Renfrew ferry which has to be hailed from the other side of the river!

After the ferry my route passed run-down tower blocks and housing in a depressed part of the city. But the closer to the centre, the increasing affluence could not be ignored. The route was along traffic free cycle lanes,  eventually reaching the posh rejuvenated Clyde waterfront and its iconic buildings like the SEC and Armadillo. Then on into the vibrant city centre in the knowledge I won't see anything like this again until my appointment in Edinburgh in 4 weeks time!

I arrived in Connell Ferry in the dark with Neil waiting there for me. We rode back with enough twilight to see the silhouettes of mountains with stars popping above them, whilst passing through misty pockets and quiet villages. It is always disorientating arriving somewhere in the dark and Benderloch was vary dark when we arrived. We chatted and caught up until midnight. Few what a day!

Friday 27 August

After waking up in anticipation of seeing the views from Neil's place, it was foggy! We went into Oban and explored McCraig's Tower, a folly dominating Oban skyline built to mimic a roman amphitheatre. I had time to pop my head around the door of Oban distillery and somehow a bottle of 14 year old malt fell into my rucksack, I am sure that will come in handy. Then qw headed back to Benderloch where the skies had cleared and we headed off on cycle to Neil's local beaches, crossing one at low tide which was fun. Then onto Isle of Eriska and its posh hotel for the rich and famous. After getting back went for a 7 km dog walk through Sutherland's Grove and back for pasta and veg.

Saturday 28 August

Up and out early walking the dog, same place as last night but this time up through and above the mist where the mountains were exposed in full sun light, beautiful. Then we headed out on the bikes to Apin, a pretty village with a small foot ferry to Lismore. We stopped at Creagan Inn for lunch (scallops yum) and then, after quick pit stop in Benderloch we headed into Oban for dinner and a pint in The Oban Inn. Busy busy day, pretty tired now and getting apprehensive about the start of my cycle expedition.

Sunday 29 August

We did another dog walk, this time up Ben Lora, which gave an eagle's eye view of his Neil's playground. I said my goodbyes and headed to Oban for the midday ferry to Barra. The ferry was fantastic. Great weather, sitting out on top for 5 hours, watching Mull, Skye, Rhum, Eig, Tiree and a line of b-list islands slip by one by one. We also passed Ardnamurchan Point, the furthest west mainland point on the Scotland. 

Arriving into Castlebay, Barra you could sense the excitement in everyone on the ferry. After disembarking with my fellow bike packers it felt like we were heading into battle when the ferry doors were opened. Then chaos as the cyclists burst off in different directions. 

In attempt to take in the moment, I made my way to a bar that overlooked the ferry terminal, but it was Sunday and full of locals and after waiting quarter of an hour to get served, I headed to the Coop and treated myself to a steak for tea. I rode the 5 undulating miles south to Vertesay, across my first causeway.

After a few navigational fopas into the local's gardens, I eventually found the start of the Hebridean Way. An act what was witnessed only by some pigs in a near by field and another bikepacker!. Growling at each other for spoiling each others moment, I did manage a "Hello, wonderful isn't it". 

I headed to the west facing dunes on Vertesay beach, set up camp and watched a beautiful sunset. I laid on the beach till gone midnight watching a rich and delicious night sky emerge, having a few drams of the Oban 14 malt I had commandeered a few days back. Then followed a weird night, I felt safe but the waves and wind sang to me leading to a disjointed sleep. I can not believe I am here doing this after all the time planning, training and the various false starts.

Mon 30 August

Well hello! I am waiting for ferry from Aird Mhor on Barra to Eriksay having spent the day cycling around Barra. I awoke to a beautiful sunny morning and wondered down to beach from my sand dune home to sit in the early sun's heat enjoying a cuppa amongst the rock pools with a squadron of buzzards circling above. After packing down and a short breather at Vartesay Community Hall, I cycled back onto Barra and made a gradual progress on the western side of the island. A stiff chilly northerly (unusual here) dampened the sun's heat, but not the enjoyment of the scenery. I stopped for another cuppa on a bench which suggested it had been witness to some otter mischief based on the discarded shells and crab legs lying around. No otter mind. I did see seals, oyster catchers and curlew though! Jetboil re-stowed, I headed up to the far north of island past Barra Airport where timings meant I got to see a landing and take off on the famous beach runway, well cool. It is a lively and lovely island but I need to move on now.

As expected, I keep bumping into some of the troops from my bike packing army, and the occasional member of the campervan platoon. Many are moving on today from Barra. There is the bloke with the craft beer beard, the one who growled at me on Vertesay beach yesterday when we stole each others moment. I kept a happy silence with 'crafty' on the ferry. Then there were the laid back young couple who didn't talk to me yesterday but are very chatty today. They amazed me with their lunch of pulses and beans which they must have cooked up earlier. I turned out we were on same beach last night, they were obviously busy cooking whilst I was having a few drams. I think I will call them 'The Oaties' given their assumed love of oat milk and all things vegan. Then there is 'paparazzi' who is one of the campervan crew. Very very chatty and walk around with a huge camera lens and a giggly happy wife. I am sure I will bump into more over next week. I am having fun thinking what they make of me.

The causeway between Eriksay and South Uist was impressive and over a mile long. Then the roads followed coastal communities. I stopped at the Dalabrog Hotel for a drink then the Coop for provisions. I cycled past the imposing cemetery, well, they all are imposing up here and often are next to and looking out to sea. 

Then onto the beach itself and cycling a mile or two along it to find a pitch. Out of nowhere and catching me off guard my first otter! He/she was running across the beach to the sea about 50 yards in front of me. With a very distinctive looping run, it went into the sea and stopped, took a good look at me and then dived in and away. That was such a special moment. I would have loved to have stayed to see if it returned, but it was getting close to sunset and I had to find a pitch which involved a bit of a detour through a golf club until ending up on another dune top home for the night. A ruby red sunset and bright stars once again, so blessed to have these conditions during my visit here. 

I should have mentioned also that I chatted with "Crafty" on whole boat trip over. Turns out to be a nice bloke, he had loads of travelling stories including doing round the world boat race and coming face to face with a whale in rough seas. I am now calling him Foogle as, unfortunately he had same voice as and looked a bit like Ben Fogle...OMG what if it was him and I thought he was nice bloke... shock! He was making a rapid way up through the Isles as he had a day trip to St Kilda booked from Harris the next day, lucky man.

Tue 31 August

Midges around this morning! After escaping to the beach for cuppa and witnessing another gorgeous sunrise, I headed back to pack up and they swarmed me. Donned with midge head net I managed to evacuate everything to a near by bench which was in the wind where midges don't go. I regrouped, repacked and set off. I met another bikepacker at Flora McDonald's birthplace monument who had had a similar experience on a campsite with the midges. He was a knowledgeable chap and told me about a broch worth visiting on Lewis. 

Then followed a long hard slog into the wind in cloudy skies, passing through South Uist and Benbecular. This must be a hard place to live. Low and exposed to all the elements. Strangely it reminded me of the Alto-Plano in Peru where people eek out an existence governed by the element. By contrast I stopped at a cafe for a smoked salmon sandwich and the chap I spoke to earlier turned up and shared my table. Had a good chat about stuff, he was born a Geordie, lived in Kintyre for his younger years and then lived in New Zealand. Only about 30 yet so much done in a short life. He now lives in Wales with an addiction to the Scottish Isles. 

I motored on, grabbed some water from a campsite and got stopped by the owner for doing so. It was fine, had quite a nice chat but bought home that even water is sparse up here. Then onto a great butcher/bakery for bits for dinner, one of the few local business trying to compete with Coop up here. When I turned left at the only "major" road junction on North Uist, after an already long day I still had 16 miles until the campsite I had booked. Then as my spirits were almost broken and I was dreading the next 90 minutes riding, like an oasis appeared The Westend Inn. What a great place. I had a long chat with the owner about how they got their real ales out so far, and after sampling a couple, mainly Skye Brewery, I headed onto the campsite and the 90 mins flew by. 

Situated on a bird reserve and recommended by Neil, I had cancelled a B&B for this so had better be good. Pitched, showered, fed and watered, I ventured onto the local beach to watch another spectacular sunset. An owl flew over low across the beach, another special moment. I am now sitting in my tent ready to drop for the night, ker-knackered, listening to to the corncrakes.

Wed 1st September

Well hello September! The heather is out and way back in Oban the trees had started to turn. It will be interesting to see how autumn and the colours develop over the next few weeks. Of course there are very few trees on the Hebs so I will not see a lot of change this week at least. It was a chilly night mind, at one point I nipped out the tent to see the moon and hundreds of stars, beautiful. Around 6.30am I woke, sunrise time, my body seems to have adjusting to sunrise as a natural alarm clock. I went for a stroll to RSPB visitor centre and then around the nature reserve. Lots of familiar waders, those I usually see on the sea wall in Lymington. 

Then after a very slow pack up I set off on the ride around the stunning west coast of North Uist. I saw St Kilda way way in the distance some 33 miles away, piercing the horizon in its volcano shaped profile. I wondered how Foogle was getting on with his trip out there. Then on passing bleached white beaches to Traigh Bay where Neil and Tracey were going to buy a house before Benderloch drew them in. Talking to some couple on the beach they spotted a white tailed eagle and let me look through their binoculars at it. Massive and elegant creature. I am now having a cuppa at a road side cafe looking over one of the few remaining thatched houses typical of this part of the world with the the ferry to Harris on my mind.

Unintentionally as I was enjoying the riding so much I zoomed on and made the 13.30 ferry (having been booked on 16.00). Lovely scenery all the way, passing the Isle of Bad Counsel... like Finlaggan on Islay (which is still one of the most haunting places I have ever visited). Whilst waiting in a passing place for another campervan to pass, I saw another white tailed eagle taking off, huge-mungus! So that's 2 seals, 1 otter and 2 white tailed eagles so far.

The ferry crossing from Berneray to Leverburgh was superb. Loads of sea birds, mostly gannets, dive bombing the ferry. There is so much life in the sea. On arrival at Harris I stopped at the Butty Van for fish n chips. I am really trying to support local business, avoiding Coop as much a possible. Having a cooked meal was novel as so far it been me as head chef. 

I then set off on a quiet road through a glen that reminded me of the start of the Bealach a Ba. I was tipped off that further up this road I could see the landscape used as a backdrop for Jupiter in Kubrick's 2001 a Space Odyssey. Is was worth the 5 mile diversion to a primordial rocky landscape, seemly older than time itself. After backtracking to Leverburgh and stopping at the Community shop, I ploughed on to Luskentyre beach. The ride was lovely and Harris is my favourite island so far. The mountains mean undulating roads which results in surprise after surprise. It might be an oil lorry driver or white van man, who give a friendly wave, or a perfect breath-taking view out to sea, up a glen or across to an island. 

Thirsty and tired I stopped for a beer at a restaurant but it was closed, however the chef was out back having a ciggy and he kindly said he would check if I could buy one. £4.2 for a small Peroni is almost New Forest prices but I gratefully accepted. Then on to Luskentyre on roads that seemed to last forever. I had to unload the bike to get it over a fence and then followed my nose up to the top of the dunes. There are areas in the dunes set aside for wild camping. So I set up with a fine view of the sunset over Tarransay in one direction and the mountains of Harris in the other. The sun fought hard not to sink but when it did it spewed red light on the mountains and the clouds hanging above them. 

The warden came by and said hello. Had a nice chat to him, he was after people with camp fires which can ruin the dunes. We talked about the way of life up here and how it is changing. A local croft was on for 30k, but sold for 250k by a rich family from London. He said the outlook for the islands is bleak as those who know the old ways of crofting and making a living from the land are dying off. Even though the young want to carry things on the rich are forcing them out. The clearances all over again! I have seen this down South, there is a tsunami of affluence crashing through our precious lands not caring about its impact. If you or I were unfortunate to loose one of our limbs we would forever regret it. Big money is doing just that to these special places and things that knit them together. Big money that does not care about the consequences. 

I am looking out of my tent at the darkening sky, a small breeze so no midges, and those mountains are wrapping themselves in a beanie cloud for the night to keep warm. Feels like a chilly one tonight.

Thursday 2nd September

Sitting with a full belly of egg fried Peruvian rice and lentils on Uig beach. Epic day in the saddle, around 80 miles over the tallest roads on the trip so far. I really should have done this ride over two days but I needed to get to Uig, which is down a 25 mile dead end road. I wanted to get out here and it had to be done today to in order to set up the ride to the Butt of Lewis over next few days. 

Geek warning for next sentence, but it capture the moment for me at lease... :-) I feel like Bilbo Baggins having travelled through the misty mountains of Harris, then the midge moors of Lewis and finally the long road leading to an imposing glacial valley into the community of Uig, surrounded by mountains, it just needs Minas Tirith at the end and you can call me Tolkien.

It was spectacular riding on the whole, even though a cloudy day, the light produced layers upon layers of blue, grey and purple silhouettes of mountains. The ride to Uig was barren and bleak and went on forever. Eventually you emerge first into fertile upper valley, then a harbour, then through the bottom of the chasm like valley and then bingo, there is the view for miles of sand dunes and huge bays.

It is here in Uig that a set of carved chess figures was found in the dunes, believed to date back 700 years. Most are are now in museums in Edinburgh and London but still play a role in Uigs identity. Hoping to catch the visitors centre tomorrow (interesting fact I learnt was that one of the missing pieces came up for auction a few years back and made over £1,000,000).

Anyway keeping it short. Midges are back. Legs are tired. Hoping to sleep well tonight.

Friday 3rd September

Yum! I just had a takeaway curry from a local's kitchen! I am on a campsite with no shops close by but was told of an honesty shed where I could get the basics. Turns out Friday is homemade takeaway curry night direct from the shed owners back door. Spontaneity at it best and the curry was really tasty.

I had had a slow start earlier this morning packing and leaving around 10.30am. It was so still last night and weird as I staying by dunes overlooking the beach but no tide that came in. After a stop at the Uig Community Shop and finding out the museum was not open today, I ploughed on back along the road to get to Uig. Two hours later I got to a junction and turned left towards the Callinish standing stones. Very impressive, and unlike Stonehenge, you can get up close and personal with them. So much history here that you can feel and touch. 

Then it was along the westerly coast road, which in truth was a series of sharp climbs, like those in Applecross, until reaching the best preserved broch in Scotland.  So much so the local builders have been in and put up an equally impressive scaffold arrangement. I moved on, cutting my way through drizzle and a strong northerly headwind and reached the campsite at Shawbost where fortunately they had a pitch. 

So showered and curried I have been chilling for last hour or so. Soon it will be dark and I am ready for sleep. I am looking forward to tomorrow as I ride up to the Butt! Hopefully will see a bit more wildlife up there as it has been sparse today on that front.

Saturday 4th September

An early start and a long trudge into grey skies and another northerly headwind (which has been there all week) up to the Port of Ness. It took a couple of hours with only notable landmarks being a restored Black House, which is a traditional thatched house with built in stables so animals partly heat the rooms, maybe that's the solution to gas boilers folks! We are only going back a hundred years or less here so recent history compared to the chess men and the standing stones. The other sight to see was the largest standing stone in Scotland, sadly positioned all by itself down a farm track with a beaten up sign and rotten bench to keep it happy.

By now I was starving and thank god for the Wobbly Dog Cafe. Eccentric and run by an Englishman, like so many things up here. A cracking bacon roll and slice of lemon drizzle cake. Energy restored I headed on to the Butt of Lewis lighthouse and the official end of the Hebridean Way. 

Much like the end of LEJOG a decade ago, this was pretty much an anti-climax with nothing other than a rusting sign to mark the feat. I suppose it is levelled as being the windiest place in the UK so maybe there has been stuff but it is in Iceland or Norway by now. Still a great sense of achievement.

The feeling didn't last long as it was replaced by anxiousness about wild camping. The dunes had signs up saying no camping and the only place I had seen a tent was back at Butt of Lewis lighthouse.

I tried to have a celebratory pint in The Cross Inn. Closed until 5pm. So I stocked up at local stores and bought a bottle to the rocks. It is now 17.30 and I am contemplating next move. Weather is on the change and it is forecast for wind and rain tomorrow. I don't have the time or the inclination to move on. So I think it will be a sleepless night in bivy tent. A strange end to a day that marks a great achievement.

Later on... finding somewhere to pitch proved tricky. The dunes which would have been perfect were a no go with signs up everywhere plus cattle grazing. So I went back to the lighthouse. There were a few campervans there so I pitched near a wall with great view along the ragged coast. It was a sleepless night as cars seemed to be coming and going all night plus the other side of the wall my tent was behind was a cattle grid.

Sunday 5th September

Today is "The Sabbath" and that means almost everything is closed. I woke at 5.30, no rain yet but very stiff westerly wind picked up. Sods law hey, 8 days cycling up the Hebs into a northerly, then when I get there, after short burst of sun on the lighthouse the wind switches direction.

I packed up everything dry again thankfully and was away by 6.30. I did catch the distant figures of Stac Polliadh and Schiehallion on the horizon and following the mainland coast to its northerly tip what I assume is Cape Wrath. I wondered if I would get there in stage 2 of my trip.

The ride to Stornoway was brutal. Mile after mile of steep undulations into the 

westerly headwind which was now blowing 20 mph. Worse was I felt I knew every inch of the first 16 miles as I had 'enjoyed it' yesterday. Then at the turn a road that went for 11 miles with the wind on the nose. As if to destroy the soul in full, most of the eleven miles could be see winding a wicked path across more barren moorland. It was a trudge, and with the bike fully loaded and paniers being a great wind brake, resulted in the strange cycling past time of having to cycle hard to go down hill. There was very little to see other than the odd peat digging pit, peat stacks and of course the view of road disappearing over the next hill.

Then I reached the last hill, when at its brow, the east coast of Lewis sprang up to say "hello". Stornoway in the distance and a nice descent into the busiest town on the Hebs. But there was no hustle and bustle on a Sunday because everything other than the public loos and a fuel garage is shut for Sabbath. This includes Tesco and Coop which I thought would have bucked the trend. The loos were welcome at 30p (luckily I had change) and the garage sold hot food and coffee. I am sure there was a queue of vicars in front of me collecting there pre-sermon lattes.

I will own up to being emotionally and physically battered and beaten. I called Mrs B is despair and bless them, she phoned around and found me a room in a hotel, but unfortunately they had no bike storage. To cut a long story short, I do now have a room, in a place with bike storage and I am 20 minutes from checking in. It is raining, windy and I am cold and I need sleep and recharge.

Monday 6th September

Over 24 hours on from my last post. I am in a much better place now for sure. Getting into the hotel room was a god's send yesterday. I was at my wits end and was really mentally tested. Even so I had jobs to do when I got to my room, washing 9 days of dubious odours from my bike gear the priority. A bath made me feel rejuvenated and I went out for dinner early, then came back to my room and crashed. 

In the morning I had quick coffee in town then went to drop bags off at a pre-booked AirBnB to find the lady who owned it had already prepared the place for me. I dumped some bags and then cycled 12 miles to North Tolsta, said by many to be the best beach in Lewis. The route did have great views over to the north west mainland with distant mountains luring me invitingly.

I rode on, stopping at the community shop at Tolsta, very pleasant and friendly staff. The weather closed in but I did make it to the Bridge to Nowhere, a road that was destined to open up an eastern route to Port of Ness, some 10 miles away, but it was never finished due to world wars getting in the way. The only other route is the 60 mile ride on the roads I travelled yesterday. There was something really weird about this place, unfinished business for sure. I had quick walk around nearby beach and explored some cave then headed back for 2 hours back through the mist to Stornoway.

Back at my lovely AirBnB now. I had quick shower and headed into town for some eats, back now for a pleasant evening chilling. I move on tomorrow. Outer Hebrides done. Thank you everyone and everything x

Tuesday 7th September

So today is departure day and I will close this diary out with a chilled feeling sitting on a bench in Lews Castle Gardens overlooking Stornoway harbour. By chance I went up to the castle and had not realised there was an Isles museum which was a great way to reflect. From the geography and cultural side to Whisky Galore and wildlife and the Lewis chess men. They had 8 of the figures on display so it was really lovely to see them in the flesh (well walrus tusk) in their home. I also purchased a couple of silver pendants for the girls made on North Uist. Thank you again Outer Hebrides, I hope to return one day with Helen.

Tuesday 7th September... addendum

Whilst I wait in Scourie north of Ullapool in my tent for the rain to stop (what a difference 10 days make), I almost forgot but must close out my story about "Foogle". As I approached the turning to Calinish after riding the Harris mountains, I jumped off my bike and walked to the filling station ahead which was to be the last place for provisions. A cyclist appeared in the road behind some way back, as they got closer and riding at some pace and they shouted "Hello Andrew". It was Foogle and he jumped off his bike joined me on the walk to the garage. It turns out he did get to St Kilda. He said whilst they have preserved the village which was vacated by the locals back in the early 1900s, NATO and the army had a foothold there now. They are constructing a base in front of the old houses which he said spoils the heritage of the place. It is obviously a very strategic place. Foogle said he had his suspicions the lady providing the tour was really working for MI5 and we joked about hundreds of soldiers coming out of underground bunkers once the tourists go home.

Anyway, it was nice to have seen him one last time and hear about it. As for all the other characters I mentioned earlier I never saw them again.

Route and Stats

Mileage: Approx. 300 miles