The Lewis Man

Our travels in the Outer Hebrides continued with our arrival on Harris. I had booked us a holiday home on Great Bernera an island on the North West coast of Lewis. We had a lengthy drive, made longer by the need to make a detour on route to the main town on Lewis, Stornoway. It wasn't just that we needed groceries, we were arriving on a Saturday evening and needed food for the following day. Eating out or grocery shopping isn't an option on a Sunday in Lewis. The island still has a strong Presbyterian tradition, dominated by the Free Church of Scotland. Traditionally, observance of the Sabbath was strictly observed. No work was carried out, no washing hung out, children not allowed to play. Nowadays things are slightly more relaxed, but shops, cafes and restaurants, museums and tourist attractions are all closed. 

After getting in enough food to last a few days we had another 45 minute drive to the west of Lewis to the bridge that connects Great Bernera to Lewis. The first bridge was opened in 1953 and has just been replaced by a new one that opened in December 2021. Before then islanders relied on a ferry service and vehicular access was very difficult. It's quite possible if the first bridge hadn't opened Great Bernera would now be depopulated.

The old and new bridge and Cllanish 8

Just above the bridge, overlooking the loch are some stones, called Callanish 8.  It's part of the collection of stone circles on this side of Lewis, the most famous of which is Callanish. This small collection of standing stones is unusual, having been constructed in a semi circle, and on the edge of a cliff. 

Our holiday home was called Thistlecroft, an older whitewashed house in Kirkibost, overlooking Loch Barraglom. It is a remote spot. The nearest shop is at least a 30 minute drive away. 

'Thistlecroft can be seen in the far distance, surrounded by trees.

We unpacked after a long drive and settled into our new surroundings. 

The following day was on our first full day and we set off to visit somewhere special. As expected, the roads were almost empty as we made our way along the west coast of Lewis. The coastline here is indented and part of the road is single track so  driving needs to be taken at a slow pace to account for all the twists and turns in the road and the sheep that wander around, oblivious to traffic.

Just off the road to Uig Bay is a minor road that passes through a valley by the side of Loch Sgalleir before opening out into an area of machair. On the coast are high cliffs. A beach of golden sand lies just beyond the dunes with the blue waters of the Atlantic rolling in. Thee are a few scattered houses. 

Clibh (anglicised as Cliff) is a special place. 

It is where Mrs B's late father, Malcolm Mackay, was born. His first home was a black house, one of the rectangular turf roofed houses that were common in the Outer Hebrides. Like many young men, he left the island when he was about 20 and never returned to live in his homeland. During World War 2 he enlisted in the Army and was posted to Burma. Like many men of his generation he never talked about this time. He sadly died in 1992 but I count myself fortunate to have known him for a few years. He was unassuming, modest, resilient and unfailingly generous. You never left his home unfed. His final resting place is a small cemetery in Bhaltos, on a hill, accessed across a field of sheep, overlooking Clibh Bay. It felt right to revisit his place of birth and the place where he was returned to the ground from which he came. We climbed up to the cemetery and Mrs B spent some time with her memories of a good man and wonderful father.

The remains of the original black houses of Cliff

The cemetery at Bhaltos

Clibh Bay from above the machair

It was a poignant way to start our time on Lewis. We returned to Clibh, quiet on a Sunday morning, and found the remains of his birthplace and the bungalow he lived in as a teenager. Then we walked onto the beach and the sun came out. Mrs B followed in her late fathers footsteps and had a paddle in the Atlantic - it felt a fitting thing to do. 

Mrs B on Clibh Beach

A slow drive to the neighboring sttlements of Cnip and Reef brought us back to the UIg road, where we spotted some highland cows on a little knoll overlooking Loch Miabhaig

After an emotional morning we returned to our holiday home and had lunch. Great Bernera where we were based is a small island, about 6 miles long and 3 miles wide, with one main village, Breacleit. After lunch we drove a couple of miles to the Community Centre right in the heart of the village, put our walking boots on and set off on a walk that took us out to the coast. After crossing a bridge we picked up a coastal track and a path that wound its way for several miles along the coast, across moorland. With the sun shimmering on the sea, we had far reaching views. We passed abandoned crofts, went through a gate and saw a rusting box of electronics attached to a fence - its use unknown. 

Views of Great Bernera

Monument to Great Bernera Crofters

We finally ended up at the next small settlement, Tobson We returned down the road t,o our starting point passing a monument to the Great Bernera crofters who had 'rioted' (or taken direct action) in 1874 in protest at their treatment by landowners. Some were imprisoned but their protests and those of other crofters eventually led to an act of parliament that gave crofters increased security of tenure. The monument incorporates stones from every croft. 

Once back at the car we drove the short distance to a small but beautiful beach at Bosta on the northern most tip of the island. Just behind the dunes is a reconstruction of a late iron age house. The existence of any archeological remains had been hidden for centuries until 1993 when a storm revealed the existence of stonework. A subsequent excavation revealed that there had been a substantial settlement, occupied around the 6th-9th centuries. The reconstruction of one of the homes gives a vivid impression of how people would have lived.

Bosta Beach

Bosta Iron Age House

We returned to our home for the week, ate a home cooked meal, watched the sheep in the field opposite and the waves lapping against the shore of Loch Baraglom and made plans for the rest of our stay.