Hebridean adventure 5

From inside our compact little travelling home we peep out of our tinted windows at the world outside. We have just made ourselves some toasties for lunch as we relax and reminisce on our short stay in the Outer Hebrides. We have made a decision and booked a return ferry from Castlebay on Barra back to Oban on the mainland, an early sailing the following morning which should enable us to drive from there and be home the same day. The reason for us leaving now is simple and it is primarily about the weather. We always knew this would be the main factor determining our return date and that it would be the one thing we could never predict. We did think that we would be cycling more often, perhaps battling the wind, but it turned out that with the wind comes rain, often as heavy squalls, these being regular but unpredictable. In the end this put us off cycling completely and even walking any distance risked a soaking so we have done very little of what we might have expected to do.

There have been, however, a load of big positives to our adventure. We have explored countless stunning beaches with views across the ocean or towards off-lying islands and rocky promontories. We also take away a real appreciation of what life here is like today and have an insight into what it must have been like in the past too. Little things have caught our eyes. Wheelie bins are not safe here unless tied down securely! Garden trampolines, the things that are notorious for flying away in the slightest wind, are rare here but we did spot one, presumably anchored down with some mighty big pegs. The houses are generally built low, close to the ground, and are widely spaced out rather than being grouped into compact villages. This perhaps mirrors the position of the croft houses which preceded them.

Driving on the narrow single track roads is very much a part of the experience. Despite the roads using the same numbering system as the rest of the UK an 'A' road is just as likely to be single track as a 'B' road. Driving requires courtesy, looking ahead to see if there is another car coming then indicating to show you are moving into the next passing place so they can come forward. The wave by both drivers as you pass each other is a given.

There are relatively few shops here but most seem to be owned and run by the local community. Those that do exist, however, are always welcoming with staff willing to  pause for a chat.

Many of the campsites are located on the machair, sand dunes grown over with a mix of vegetation which have always provided grazing for the crofters' sheep and cattle. The pitches are often uneven so finding a level spot is not easy and some care is needed to avoid spinning wheels. Most sites seemed to be closing at the end of September since beyond this visitor numbers will fall off.

For us though, a plan for the homeward journey now being in place, we need a camp spot close enough to the ferry terminal so we don't miss the sailing in the morning. We then get a text message telling us that the ferry we have booked is going to leave an hour earlier, now at six o' clock in the morning, so this becomes even more important. This is due to strong winds forecast for later in the day, so they should not affect us, but the ship has to return to the safety of Castlebay on Barra on the same day.

One final island on our list is Vatersay, hanging off the south end of Barra by another short causeway, so this is where we end up, on a narrow strip of the Machair midway between east and west facing beaches. We thought we might have the spot to ourselves but two other vans drove up later, one of which promptly lit a fire to cook some sausages, despite the rules forbidding fires. [But I guess we did get our own back with the noise of our early departure the next day.]

We had a pair of beautiful beaches to visit this time, one of which even enticed Kate in for a swim. We retired to bed early and slept well enough but four in the morning is never going to be a good time to get up. And what we then discovered was that driving on the tiny single track roads in total darkness is a whole new experience, especially when the sheep bedded down on the road are still sleeping. Once on the ferry, a much larger one for this journey, most of the passengers crashed out wherever they could and tried to catch up on their sleep. We on the other hand started with some breakfast, found a good spot from which we could watch the dawn arrive then had fun trying to identify the Scottish mountains as they came into view.

We passed close by the Isle of Lismore which once again brought back memories of my singing with the campsite manager on Lewis. Music in one form or another is clearly an important part of the lives of many islanders and I am delighted to think that I participated in this.

Our drive home was uneventful, although we did pick up a pair of hitchhikers on the way, a young Czech couple carrying a mass of luggage so they could camp each night. And we later discovered that our bed at home does not shake and rattle when the wind outside blows! This, along with a number of other things, will take us days to re-acclimatise to. We also discovered that everything in the garden seemed to have been growing at great speed whilst we were away, testimony to the wet weather here too. All that remains now is to give the van a good wash to try to remove all the salt and sand that has stuck to the paintwork during our time away.

So what about the bikes, how did they fair perched on the rack behind us whilst being rained upon daily and then doused in sea spray? Time will tell for sure but it seems that the bike cover, the thing continuously noisily flapping about in the wind and needing extra cords wrapped around it to keep it from flying away or ripping into shreds, largely did its job and kept the bikes dry. Whilst away we saw many other vehicles with bike racks on the back but none seemed to be flapping as much as ours so maybe we need to rethink the cover a little.