The Hebridean Trail

The Outer Hebrides, islands steeped in history, folklore and romance.

A place that conjures up images of swirling mists and crashing waves.

'But how much do we really know about this part of Scotland,

'a place that lies on the very edge of Europe?'

You know, in over 40 years of climbing Scotland's hills, I'd kind of given up hope

of ever being surprised by a view again, but this is sensational.

I think the Western Isles generally are a kind of hidden gem in Scotland,

there is so much to see and do here.

'I'm on the island of Vatersay'

and behind me lies a nice chain of uninhabited islands -

Sanderay, Pabbay, Mingulay and Berneray.

Now, a number of years ago I started to walk from here

up this lovely archipelago of Western Isles

to the northern point in the Butt of Lewis.

But a combination of bad weather and too much road-walking defeated me,

and I eventually packed it in somewhere in North Uist.

But I vowed that I was going to return, and here I am. This time

I'm going to use a bike in some of the sections

and I'm going to link up some of the finest hill walking

in the Hebrides with some of the most remarkable historical sites you'll find anywhere,

and at the same time celebrate the culture and the lifestyle of the Hebridean.

I'm really looking forward to this journey and I hope you'll join me

for this hike and bike through the Outer Hebrides.

Over the next couple of weeks I'll be placing a foot or turning a wheel on nine different islands.

I'll be on a northbound journey from the southern coast of Vatersay

all the way to the windswept Butt of Lewis.

From a start point my route takes me over the marvellous little hills

of Barra, then across the sea to lovely Eriskay

and five islands that are all linked by causeway.

First I'll be walking up the machairs

of South Uist and into Benbecula.

North Uist comes next, with a surprisingly mountainous experience, then it's back

on my bike across the final causeway to Berneray, and another ferry crossing to Harris and Lewis.

The whole route is over 150 miles,

'and it's time to saddle up for the first stretch to Barra.'

I've always been a wee bit wary of bikes. When mountain bikes were first introduced to this country,

like a complete idiot I took one to the summit of Ben Macdui,

our second highest mountain, and on the way down I took a short cut down a snow chute.

The bike and I parted company and I went down the snow chute on my bum

like the fastest thing outside the Cresta Run.

At the bottom I stood up and my right side was like a pound of mince, it was a real mess.

So I've always been very wary of bikes ever since, especially on a really windy day like this one.

But, hey, this is the Hebrides and they say that here the wind is your constant companion.

Vatersay used to be known for the quality of its beef production, and apparently the beef were transported

by ferry from Castlebay and Barra across to the markets on the mainland.

But before they got there, they had to swim across the Sound of Vatersay, 250 metres of open water.

Now, in 1986 a prize bull by the name of Bernie drowned as it was swimming across, and apparently

that encouraged the authorities to build this causeway,

linking the two islands, the islands of Vatersay and Barra.

So I suppose we have Bernie the bull to thank for preventing Vatersay going into that slow decline

and depopulation, as happened in the other southern islands of the Hebrides.

From the causeway there's only a couple of miles of biking

ahead of me on this, the first leg of my Hebridean journey.

Barra is about eight miles long and five miles wide,

and just over 1,000 people live on this island.

I'm in Castlebay, which is the main town in the Isle of Barra,

and there's one thing that I have to do before I leave here.

Kiessimul is a small medieval castle that's been beautifully restored in recent years.

This is the stronghold of the MacNeils of Barra

whose galleys, or birlinns, once dominated these Hebridean waters.

The castle's completely surrounded by the sea, so the only way visitors can get to it is by boat. This means

that the fortifications are pretty impregnable and, for me, the journey across wasn't without its problems.

It's been threatening all day.

I mentioned the wind earlier, the constant companion of the Hebrides,

and it caught up with me and it whipped my hat off.

But my man here spotted it, he's got the hook.

Ah, look at that, fantastic.

I don't have a tumble dryer.

Oh, don't you worry about that, that's perfect.

Put it straight on, it will dry in no time!

I've been told to put it straight on, some good advice from County Durham there. Here we go.

How's that?

What is it about castles that makes people so excited?

This is everything a real castle should be.

Quite formidable in many ways.

It's a real cracker. What's in here?

Woah! Secret staircase.

You know, when you think of it, this must have been

the first safe anchorage that seafarers would have found between the north coast of Ireland

and the Hebrides, so it's no small wonder that the MacNeils became powerful

and, boy, did they know it! There's an old story that says that every night when MacNeil

had dined, his piper would come out to the battlements,

play a pipe tune and then announce to the world,

"The potentates of the world can now dine, MacNeil has finished."

Back now to the aptly-named Castlebay on mainland Barra,

and I've found a feast of my own.

Clan McNeish marches on its stomach.

You know, I've travelled fairly extensively in India and Pakistan

and I love nothing more than going into one of these little roadside cafes

and just having some of that authentic Indian food, it's just absolutely terrific.

And I never, ever thought that the place where I'd come and taste that flavour

would be Barra in the Outer Hebrides. And the man who owns this restaurant, this is his own recipe.

-This was a four-in-the-morning recipe originally.

-Really?

Sort of waking up at four in the morning very hungry, shall we say?

-With an idea in your head?

-And just what was lying about.

Tell me what we've got in here.

Well, garlic, ginger, onions, some coconut, a lot of coriander seeds

and then chilli powder, turmeric.

So that's all fried with tuna, and the monkfish and cod's

added at the last minute, just cooked, you know, not for very long.

This is a new venture, both for Barra and for Rohal.

I mean, this is something neither myself or my wife, Pauline, have ever done before.

-How did that come about?

-We've lived here on Vatersay for eight years...

-Where were you before that?

-Glasgow.

-Why move from Glasgow to Vatersay?

I think it was a time to give the people of Glasgow a break after...

40 years of me was enough for Glasgow, so it was maybe time for me to move.

What's the usual sort of comment you get from people? They come off the ferry here and they come in here

and they eat this sort of food - there must be an element of surprise to a lot of people.

I think a lot of them are pretty amazed, yes.

I think that's part of the beauty of it.

I think that's what makes them enjoy it even more, because they're sitting

here in Castlebay and they did not expect this.

'And, let me tell you, that's one of the best Indian meals I've had in a long time.

'For me, well, I'm now fed and watered, so it's onwards and upwards to Barra's highest hill.'

Because of the very strong winds this morning, I decided

against taking my bike up the lovely west coast of Barra, although it was a temptation.

But, you know, I'm a hill walker and where there's a nice hill in sight, you just have to climb it.

And Heaval is one of the finest hills in the Hebrides.

It's a great viewpoint, so that's where I'm heading just now, up over Heaval,

over Thartabhal, over Grianan, and then down to Ardmhor,

where I'm going to get the ferry across to Eriskay.

And, of course, halfway up the hill here is a lady who I should probably pay my respects to.

'Somehow Barra managed to avoid the Reformation

'and when MacNeil of Barra turned to Catholicism in the early 18th century

'it confirmed these southern islands as a mainstay of Catholicism

'in what is largely Presbyterian Hebrides.

'And I think the Madonna and Child here gazing heavenwards,

'looking over the flock, I think, in Castlebay. They're looking heavenwards,'

and I'm gazing heavenwards, too, not for inspiration but to get to the top of Heaval in this wind.

And it might just blow me to the summit. Here goes.

Wooh!

Whoa! Heaval, it's only 383 metres

but in this wind it feels like the Himalayas. Oh!

'You know, that was a real struggle up that hill'

but I'm really glad I made the effort because now that I'm up here, the views are absolutely fantastic.

You can see ahead of us the route over Hartaval,

and then the smaller hill behind is called Grianan.

You can just see the white sands of Eriskay away over yonder.

It's a fabulous part of the world, it really is.

Well, it's goodbye to Barra, and I say that with some reluctance

because it's been a great stay there, a great island.

And kind of typical, after being battered by the winds yesterday,

the winds have eased away now and it's a beautiful Hebridean morning.

I'm shortly going to be landing on the isle of Eriskay,

and I'm going to be landing at almost exactly the same place

as Charles Edward Stuart landed on the 2nd of August 1745,

and that was his very first steps on Scottish soil.

But this won't be MY first step on the isle of Eriskay. I've been here before.

I remember it as probably the loveliest of all the Hebrides.

Until the mid-19th century, Eriskay had a tiny population,

'mainly fishermen, but the numbers increased five-fold when people were cleared to here from further north.

'It must have been a hard life - the land was infertile and the sea crossing treacherous.

'But in 2001 when the causeway to South Uist was built, things started to change.

'Father Calum MacLellan is the oldest inhabitant of the island.

'Born and brought up here, he travelled to Rome to train as a priest.

'Now retired, he remembers life before the mod cons arrived.'

When I was a child there were no roads, we had no carts, we had the ponies. We've still got ponies.

They had panniers but they could only carry a limited amount,

so you had to carry it yourself.

There was no running water, you had to go to the well for the water, and all that sort of thing.

You had to milk the cow

and you had to have enough fodder to keep the cow alive during the winter.

So it was busy, you worked as long as there was daylight,

so we looked forward to the winter coming!

-You'd get a bit of a rest then!

-That's right. The only snag, of course,

is that there were no radios, we had very few newspapers, hardly any books to read at the school.

I think there were some by Walter Scott and Charles Dickens and Alexander Dumas.

But if you got a hold of the People's Journal,

you started at page one, up the left-hand corner,

and you stopped at the back page, "Printed by so and so and so."

-You read every word.

-Every word of it.

And we became very expert at all the adverts. They were all advertising clothes that we had never heard of,

and we knew the price of socks, and the ladies knew the price of corsets and all that sort of thing.

-Now, the causeway here was built not that long ago.

-No.

What are the biggest changes the causeway's brought to the island?

Before the causeway, it was a great improvement when the Western Isles Council had the idea

that, where they COULD have them, they put car ferries, and that was a great benefit as well.

But even the car ferries, the car ferries could only move at certain times of the day.

When we didn't have the causeway, well,

you knew the last ferry was at five o'clock so you didn't expect anyone.

So it was a bit of culture shock when people would appear

at your door at nine o'clock at night to pay you a visit, you know? You'd almost be on the way to bed.

So tell me, what were your experiences the first time you left the island and went to the mainland?

We had mostly read about things and I'd never seen a train, of course,

never been on a train, and that really fascinated me.

And I was always being dragged back from the windows in case I lost my head.

There were a few shocks.

I remember this particularly, I saw this lady waiting for a bus

and she was wearing trousers and smoking a cigarette.

And I said, "Good gracious, what kind of...

"What kind of world is this?"

I really did, because I'd never seen anybody in... And I'd never seen ladies smoking cigarettes.

The elderly ladies in Eriskay always took snuff,

and maybe some of them smoked a pipe secretly, for all I knew.

'Another day, another island, and it's time to leave Eriskay behind

'and start my journey up that chain of islands - the Uists, Benbecula, Berneray,

'Harris and Lewis, the archipelago that has given the Outer Hebrides its nickname of the Long Isle.'

I've had to make a big, big decision today.

On arrival here in South Uist, all my instincts told me to go the east of the island where I could

make the long traverse over Beinn Mhor and Hecla, two hills that I've wanted to climb for years and years.

'But then I realised that running right up the west coast of South Uist is possibly the finest example

'of machair that you'll find anywhere, and running right up it, almost like a...

'like a temptress, is a lovely footpath called the Machair Way.

'It runs for 20-odd miles, all the way up to Benbecula.

'At the end of the day, the decision was made for me.

'Way to the east, the cloud's building up, it looks as though it's raining heavily,

'and I suspect there will be very, very strong winds on the summits.

'So it looks like the Machair Way for me,

'but that's not a bad prospect because, all the way up this west coast, you'll find

'some of the best beaches you'll find anywhere in the world.'

'Machair is a Gaelic word and refers to the fertile grassy land

'that runs along much of the coastline of these islands.

'This coastal strip used to be part of the beach but was left behind when the sea levels dropped.

'Today it's one of the rarest habitats in Europe, and almost half of Scotland's machair

'is to be found here in the Outer Hebrides.'

Well, it's a breezy end to the Machair Way and it looks like a change in the weather,

unfortunately, so I'm going to go and find somewhere to put my head down for the night

and hope for a decent weather forecast for tomorrow

because I'm going to Benbecula and I'm going orchid-hunting.

'This is a tale of detection, disclosure and a touch of family rivalry.

'Last year bird specialist Steve Duffield stole the limelight

'from his partner, Johanne Ferguson, the local expert from Scottish National Heritage.

'Steve discovered a massive colony of the rare orchid, Irish Lady's-tresses,

'right here at West Benbecula Lochs.'

I was taking a trip out for Western Isles Wildlife,

showing people birds, when I happened to notice

in the foreground of my binoculars

that there was a flowering spike, and I recognised the flowering spike

from the distance because of the colour of the orchid -

it's kind of like a creamy white - and the fact that it was

in flower in August. Most orchids are finished by that time of year.

So I hopped over the fence and walked across, and it was Irish Lady's-tresses.

So I nipped back cos I didn't want to upset any crofters

and when I started scanning from the road, I not only saw one,

I could see about 30 of the orchids scattered around,

which seemed amazing at the time. But the next year we find out, when they do a systematic search

of the site, that there's something like 600 of the orchids in the same area.

I was out that day looking for orchids elsewhere. I'd found ONE,

and I was delighted with that.

And I came home to pass on the news of my exciting find,

yet another orchid, to find he'd found 30.

-How did you feel about that? Were you a bit miffed?

-Well, I was, yes!

Luckily I got revenge this year by finding the 600, so that's good.

That's incredible. So why do we find Irish Lady's-tresses here in Benbecula and not in other places?

Well, it's got a range of good habitats for them, similar to this loch here, it's got...

It's a very shallow loch, and it floods in the winter time, so they

seem to really need either flooding or heavy grazing over the winter.

Benbecula has so many different lochs that fit that description,

that there's loads of habitat for them.

So you think there could be a lot more on the island?

There almost certainly are. We know there's loads of other

little colonies - one and two plants - in Benbecula, there's also some others in South Uist

but this is the biggest one here, in fact it's probably one of the biggest ones in the country.

There's an interesting little story to it. Most plants they reproduce by pollination and then

they produce seed, but these Irish Lady's-tresses haven't actually been doing that very often.

It's about four or five times they've done it, or been recorded as doing that, throughout the country.

So it was a mystery as to how come they came to be here and in such large numbers.

There's been three theories - one, that the seed came across from North America,

the second one, that it came across with geese... White-fronted geese, isn't it, Steve?

Yeah, Greenland white-fronted geese.

But the difficulty with that is that Greenland white-fronted geese obviously come from Greenland,

and the orchids haven't been recorded from Greenland.

However, this year after we'd found this colony, we were quite lucky to have

a resident expert on orchids and he went out on the site and discovered

that they had actually seeded, so he found one example of seeding.

So, again, if that's a fifth for the country, that's quite exciting.

This is quite a special area you've brought me to because not only

will you find these lovely Irish Lady's-tresses orchids here, but also rare birds, Steve.

Yeah, that's right. The red-necked phalarope breeds here.

We're right on the edge of red-necked phalarope breeding range, most of them breed further north.

Iceland, for instance, has a large population of phalaropes.

And in the UK, this is about as far south as they actually breed.

There's maybe three pairs here, maybe one or two in Lewis, and the rest

of the UK population, which is about 30 to 40 pairs, are in Shetland.

So it is, yeah, it's a very rare breeding bird in Britain,

and Benbecula is really the main site in the Outer Hebrides,

and this loch here, Loch Mor, where you find the orchids,

is also, yeah, the major site for red-necked phalarope.

So, just one final question. What creates the most excitement in your household -

is it sighting a new orchid or is it seeing a red-necked phalarope?

It's both, actually, isn't it?

Yeah, I think the birds win.

-Yeah, yeah, definitely, rare birds.

-Nonsense, the plants win!

When I was pregnant with my first child, we had an appointment with our midwife,

and it was Boxing Day, and she said to Steve, "I hope you've got her a really good present."

And he said, "Yes, I have, I've got her an orchid book."

And she was horrified. I think she was expecting

chocolates, perfume, flowers. And then she said to Steve, "And what did Johanne get you?"

and he said, "A caterpillar book." So she was totally outraged!

'Back on my bike, I'm heading north again, through the flat waterlogged landscapes of Benbecula.

'I've got about 9 miles to ride to my next destination on North Uist.

'Till 50 years ago, it was difficult to travel between these two islands.

'Separated by a difficult stretch of water, there was just one hour at low tide when it was possible

'to walk across, and it was a treacherous journey, especially in winter when storms would shift

'the position of sandbanks, forcing the islanders to find new routes that avoided the quicksand.

'But all that changed on the 7th of September 1960

'when the late Queen Mother opened the North Ford Causeway.

'Today it's just a push on the pedals and a swish of the tyres and I'm across and into North Uist.

'I'm joining an artist and film-maker who moved here

'from Glasgow ten years ago to live and work on the island.

'He was very keen to take me to the highest point on North Uist, the hill of Eaval.'

'It's such an iconic shape.

'It's my Mount Fuji, really.

'I live in the shadow of it,'

I see it every day, it's really... It feels very much part of my life.

As a film-maker, as an artist, what is special about this landscape?

Well, I think you can see it today. I mean, the light is just fantastic and, you know, when...

Earlier on today there was mist and it was absolutely stunning,

flat calm, the hills are all reflected in mirror-like lochs.

I'm a very keen kayaker and canoeist, and this is just heaven.

-'Plenty of water for you.

-Plenty water.'

It's as still as anything.

-A bit late for the fishing.

-Aye.

'Well, it's one thing coming here to visit but an awful lot

'of people come here that will stay a winter and say, "That's enough."

'Because it's not always like this.'

No, it's not. When I first came up I had a motorbike

and it got blown over three times in the first three months I was here.

I didn't see the sunshine for, like, three months at all.

It can be hard, you know, especially in the winter.

'Personally I love a good storm, there's nothing better than walking on a beach on a really stormy day.

'There's definitely a bit of John Muir about you, isn't there?

'Definitely, that bit about him climbing these trees to swing about in the storm...

'I'd love to do that!

'That's the only thing I miss, really - no trees.'

Lovely! We can just see the hills in the mainland and some of the Minch.

And in the ten years that you've been living here, has your

-relationship with this landscape changed at all?

-Oh, absolutely.

I mean, I feel like, you know, I know it so much better now.

It's one of the things I really love about North Uist,

you know, there's such a difference from the west to the east.

On the west side you've got amazing beaches,

just crescent after crescent of mile-long beautiful white sand,

machair wildflower meadows that are just incredible.

And the middle covered with hundreds and thousands of lochans

and waterways, more water than land.

And then here on the east coast you've got these vast moors

with rocky outcrops

and these magnificent hills, you know, which are part

'of this thrust zone right down the kind of spine of the Uists.

'Andrew is the creator of the award winning Taigh Chearsabhagh Museum

'and Art Centre which attracts artists from around the world.

'One person who was keen to explore this unusual landscape

'was the internationally acclaimed environmental artist, Chris Drury,

'who travels extensively, seeking out the connections between nature and culture.

'Together Andrew and Chris decided to document the landscape

'of North Uist by discovering the Gaelic names attached to each geographical feature.

'They've also created images and sculptures that they hope will lead

'to a deeper understanding of the relationship between the names and the land.

'And in a watery landscape like this, they felt the best way

'to achieve their objective was to undertake a two day trans-Uist journey by Canadian canoe.

'It's just a great way to travel across this untouched interior.

'Many of us would probably refer to this as a wild land

'or even wilderness, but you've found the name of every one of these lochs.

'Well, not even just the names of the lochs and the hills but, you know,

'every little hillock and promontory and stream, you know, and rock.

'They're... you know, they all have names. And the language is embedded in the landscape.

'But you have collected all of these names

'and put them together digitally on a photograph down in the centre?

One of Chris Drury's works was essentially creating a landscape image,

large-scale, wall-based piece,

landscape image made up, in fact, of the text

of all the names of the places that you could see from this hill.

And it's the landscape we crossed in the journey.

'We camped on one of these islands in Loch Aulasary

'and it was pretty wild, I tell you,

'it was kind of force six, seven, with heavy rain most of the time!

'Very elemental but that was part of the experience.

'We wanted to really experience the landscape.'

Yeah.

You know, Andy, in over 40 years of climbing Scotland's hills,

I'd kind of given up hope of ever being surprised by a view again, but this is sensational.

Tell us, what are we looking at here?

To the south, immediately, we've got Ronay and Grimsay,

Benbecula further to the south, and the hills of South Uist,

Hecla and Corodale, Beinn Mhor.

And then this vast, central flow country

in the middle of North Uist, there is more water than land,

and that's the way Chris Drury and myself

travelled across this landscape, through the water.

Well, here's a message for all you Munro baggers and Corbett baggers out there.

-This little hill, Eaval, is only, what height?

-347 metres.

-347 metres.

And it's one of the best views in Scotland. So get yourself over here.

Time now to visit the final island in this little chain of islands

that are all linked together by causeways.

This is Berneray, and I'm about to meet someone who's spent the last 30 or so years exploring the Hebrides,

someone who's walked all the way from the Butt of Lewis to Barra.

When I attempted this myself, I gave up halfway through,

more than a little daunted by trying to walk across a land

that was dissected by so many lochs and rivers.

Peter Clarke's from south of the border but was determined to create

a long-distance walking route all the way through the islands.

The result of his labours was a book about the Outer Hebrides, The Timeless Way.

I knew that there were tracks

because it was really within living memory

when I first came to the Hebrides in the 1970s,

that people were still using these tracks. And I met plenty of people who tried to walk,

who'd come up here to get away from the road, to walk through the wilderness,

and they just couldn't find the way.

So I did a whole load of historical research on maps,

starting with the 1666 Blaeu Atlas of Scotland,

the South Uist map, a beautiful thing, which shows the machair track

from Pollachar to Eochar, and that's really what started me off.

I did the historical research and then I came up here and joined it all up.

On the face of it, it looks like just a big long walk, but I know

from your book, you had some quite exciting moments,

-some tidal beaches...

-Yes.

-..and bogs and...

Well, when...

Laying out a walk and doing it are two different things.

I mean, the one, the walk across the northeast Lewis moors,

which was laid out many years ago by the Tourist Board,

I did that walk and found myself walking across bogs

that were moving under my feet and finding myself in a sea of...

a brown sea of peat,

and it was during that walk that I realised that ahead of me

was a stick, and it wasn't the Tourist Board's official marker,

it was a large stick that somebody had put there,

and then there was another one and another one.

And that was the very first time that I realised that there were these unofficial markers.

And, of course, on the tidal fords, there was something called the MacKay Stones.

And MacKay was said to be an exciseman who had drowned

as he crossed the tidal ford between North Uist

and Benbecula, and these stones had been put in to try to guide the way

across the safe parts of the ford.

Because this is such a sparsely populated area,

because there's still the wilderness is preserved here,

these things are still here to see and here still to use.

And so you're not just looking for a track that you can see, that you can walk along,

you're looking for the next stick or the next stone

that's going to take you across an otherwise featureless moor.

On a day this with the sun shining, is there any place more beautiful in the world?

Well, I think Berneray always takes a lot of beating.

I look around here and I think...

Well, you know... It really does always bring a tear to my eye.

It's time for the final ferry of my 150-mile Hebridean trail.

I'm heading to the isle of Harris

and some of the wildest hill walking in the Hebrides.

From the mountains of Harris I'll be crossing the flat peat moors

of Lewis, but this is no second best,

it's as remote as anything I've encountered on this journey.

The ferry took me

across to Leverburgh in South Harris

and I've cycled round to the start of a walking trail that I'm proud to be associated with.

About 10 years ago I was invited across here to the Western Isles

to officially open a new walking trail called the Harris Walkway.

Now, this trail runs from Seilebost here on the lovely west coast of Harris,

it travels east to an area called the Bays

and then makes its way north to Tarbert on a series of footpaths and quiet roads.

From Tarbert it follows an old packhorse route north

onto the slopes of An Cliseam, the highest mountain in the Outer Hebrides.

Now, I have to confess, I've never actually walked the route in its entirety,

but given the prospect of this long journey through the Outer Hebrides, I thought now is the time.

So I'm really looking forward to the next 20 miles, if only to get off my bike for a while.

I wonder if you could imagine walking along here on a day of low cloud and drizzly rain,

and you see coming towards you a group of people,

and you notice that four of the men, or maybe six of the men,

are actually carrying a coffin, and the women around are keening and crying,

because this is an old coffin road, an old funeral road,

that led from Lackalee in the Bays area across here to the west coast.

And people couldn't bury their dead over in the Bays because the ground is so rocky and rough,

they just couldn't dig a six-foot-deep grave.

So the dead had to be carried across here, and as they came

over this path, every so often they would stop at a cairn like this one.

And these are not just simple way marking cairns,

these are coffin rest cairns.

And the mourners would put the coffin on top.

This would actually be pretty flat on the top.

People have come here and they've added stones to it over the years.

And they leave the coffin there for a few moments

and they might say a prayer, a wee rest before carrying on the journey.

So it's great that these stone cairns are still here

as a reminder of the hardships that these people endured.

I've just come into the Bays area, and that's a series of coastal communities and townships,

and they've got some lovely names, like Leacklee, Stockinish,

Plocrapool or Drinishader.

Names that are as Norse in their origin as they are Gaelic.

From here I'm going to head north towards Tarbert, just weaving some of these wee short sections

of footpath with some sections of the so-called Golden Road.

'And that's a road that earned its name because of the huge amount of money it cost to build it.'

You can see the difference in the landscape already.

There is no white sands here, no green machairs.

It's almost like the bare bone sticking up through the thin skin of the earth.

'The Harris walkway follows the Laxford Lochs, north from Tarbert,

'but I wanted to take a wee diversion, to a parallel route that crosses the hills

to a coastal village that boasts a real David and Goliath story.

Scotland lies on the edge of Europe and the Western Isles lie on the very edge of Scotland.

Until a few years ago, the village of Reinigeadal lay on the very edge of the Western Isles.

Now, I use this term "on the edge" advisedly,

because at one time, Reinigeadal was considered to be the remotest village in Scotland.

The only way you could reach it was by boat or on a four-mile

footpath over the hills, this footpath we are following today.

And then a local man, Kenny Mackay, said, "Enough is enough, something has to be done about this."

It was a close-knit community

and everybody was dependent on the other person.

And in a place like this, it had to be like that.

When the boat would come in, this landing place, where we are sitting at the moment,

would be a hive of activity, especially in the winter.

The days were short and you would have to have enough animal feed

and all the necessity for the community was coming ashore here.

There are lots of islands that are just a short crossing,

but here you had a seven-mile trip by open boat, right off into Tarbert at that time.

When my mother was growing up, there would be over 100 people here, but after the First World War

all the ex-servicemen then, they were offered this crossover in Skye, so that took

quite a lot of people out of the village and it was a gradual decline.

And we were down to just ten or 12 of us left, when I realised, "In a few years, this place will be gone."

My mother was very insistent that she was staying here all her life

and there was another aunt here, Marian McGinnis,

that was of the same mind and I had that streak in me, anyway.

But mother was pushing me to do something about getting a road in.

And so began the battle for the survival of Reinigeadal.

It was a battle which was to take ten years of Kenny's life.

This started off with a fairly modest request for a £20,000 jetty

but ended up with the construction of this road, that cost £1.5m.

When I went to the funding bodies, "Oh, no, there's another jetty way down half a mile away from the road."

So I said, "Oh, that's OK. But at the end of the day I think it will cost you more than that wee jetty."

So it cost them 1.5m to put the road in.

Well, there would be no community.

There's a lot of places round the coast of Harris that there's no community there any more,

especially on the far side of the loch, where some of the people

came here during the Clearances, there's a lot of,

maybe half a dozen or more villages on the other side of Loch Seaforth that there's nobody, just ruins.

I was asked once by a journalist, when I was fighting for the road,

"How much would it take you to leave? It would be cheaper for the council

"if you took a backhander and walked away from this campaign of yours."

I said, "That will make me even more determined to get what I want!"

Judging by the building work going on, Reinigeadal has not only survived, it is thriving.

But even my own family,

no-one can appreciate what it's like having a road now, compared to how it was before.

We just can't get them to understand what it was like.

What's in the past was just a dream

and you've woken up and there's a road here. It's just unreal.

The Isle of Harris is separated from Lewis by the largest range of hills in the Hebrides.

And it's time for me to take to the high ground again.

I'm heading for the highest of these hills, in the very good company

of mountain man and naturalist, Roddy MacMinn.

'I think that the hills in Harris are amazing places to walk through.

'You go immediately from the beach up to the mountain top, very dramatic.

'It really is something special.

'And all that combined with the setting just makes this in particular a really beautiful place to be.'

I suppose a lot of people must come to the island and look at the sort of landscape and say,

"Well, it's been here for, you know, millions of years, there's not much you can do to change it."

Yeah, well, I'm not sure that would stand up to much analysis, really.

What you've got here

has evolved over time, it's been managed intensively

and less intensively by man over generations.

And what we've got now is something that's special.

It is fragile and, in terms of its importance to Scotland, it's very significant.

People have crofted here for a long time.

It's a particular style of agriculture. Has that been good for wildlife?

The way people have managed the land here has essentially

created the special place that is Harris and the Outer Hebrides.

I think it would be wrong to assume that that's just been a continuum all through the generations.

Two generations ago, for example, we might have had people coming up

here in the summer with their cattle. In more recent times, it's been extensively grazed by sheep

-and then there's been some people burning and not burning in some areas.

-To increase heather growth?

Uh-huh, yeah. And sometimes that's appropriate in some areas, but it can exacerbate erosion in others.

So what we are looking at now is recognising some of these causal links,

seeing how peoples' management of the land affects the landscape and the wildlife that inhabit

that landscape and developing an understanding and taking a stewardship role over these hills.

I actually see the sea now.

Yeah, Taransay in the distance there, with beaches, it's lovely.

Yeah, it's looking rather splendid.

There is sun on the hillside, it makes all the difference.

There's a wee bit of brightness.

It's true what they say in the Hebrides, Roddy,

that if you don't like the weather, just wait two minutes.

Yeah, and sometimes you don't even have to wait that long.

Aye. It's very changeable today.

Oh, look at that.

Some contrast with the mist on the other side of the ridge?

What's that? The end of Loch Seaforth?

Yeah, you can see the end of Loch Seaforth there and then it winds

-its way up north through Kinloch and South Lochs.

-South Lochs, uh-huh.

Uh-huh, towards Stornoway, eventually.

Always changing, huh?

Is this area important enough, do you think, to get National Park status?

It's an interesting question. It certainly meets the criteria set down in the National Park Act,

in terms of defining what should make a National Park,

that being that it has to be a very special place, in terms of its nature conservation value,

but also it has to have a distinct regional identity

and certainly Harris, as a whole, has that in spades.

I think the next question is whether people want to see a National Park here and that's

not really for us to determine, it's for the people, the communities themselves.

But what about Roddy MacMinn? What does he think about this area being a National Park?

Well, I think it has a lot of potential and I think if the people do decide that they want

to go down that route, I think it could be quite an exciting time for Harris.

-There we go, the summit. What height are we?

-799 metres.

-All right, what's that in English?

-2,600 feet.

Something like that, yeah.

-Well, it's certainly the biggest hill in the Hebrides.

-That's right, yeah, so...

-It's just a pity we can't see anything.

-We can see the mist(!)

Well, I've left the big hills of Harris behind me now, but you know, I'm not too despondent about that,

because I know, not far ahead, I'm going to visit one of the real archaeological splendours

of the Hebrides - and I'm really looking forward to that.

And, you know, the great thing about this trip is, I feel as though I'm on my own

in the middle of this vast landscape. Wonderful.

Here we go.

In a land where rock and water is so predominant, this seems highly

appropriate that we have so many of these ancient artifacts.

I saw this circle just from the roadside and, while it's good,

the one that I really want to visit is just over there.

Callanish Stones are an unmistakable landmark, yet no-one knows exactly

when they were erected, who put them here or why.

There are more than 50 stones - the largest over four metres high.

It's an incredibly impressive sight.

Angus Mackenzie was born just a mile along the road and today, he shows people around the site.

Certainly, they reckon this is the second most important stone circle

-to Stonehenge. By all accounts, it's even older than Stonehenge.

-What sort of age are we talking about?

Well, we're talking 4,500 to 5,000 years old.

I think it was constructed in various stages.

This north avenue here, that we see going towards the village, that was added at a later date.

You know, first of all, there was this circle here, this was covered by a stone dome type of thing.

-Like a chambered cairn?

-Yeah, what we call a beehive house.

I don't know the time period, but it was a later event,

adding the avenue down here. Whether that was a ceremonial avenue

or whether it had other significance, I don't know.

What are the some of theories for the creation of Callanish?

Oh, how long have you got?

THEY LAUGH

Well, my favourite is -

and the most logical one to me, being a crofter and sometimes fisherman, when I can get a chance -

is that the moon phases governs the tides,

it also governs your harvest to a certain extent, your timing,

so to my mind this could be something used

to mark the face of the moon as a calendar or as a predictor of events.

-There's quite a nice theory that there's a range of hills, is it behind us here?

-Yeah.

-It's in the form of...a woman.

-That's right.

And the moon sort of bounces along her form, when is it, midsummer?

-That's it.

-Oh, it's over that way?

-That's it over there.

And that could be possibly why the avenue's here, as a viewing thing.

But it seems to be at certain stages of the moon, it dances up and down, disappears.

And does she represent the sort of mother goddess figure of nature?

I think that is in some... aspects of the translation.

I think that's what she represents to some people.

What are the sort of reasons people come here for?

Well, you've got the difference solstices

that the new age travellers come and pitch up their tent at the end there, and hopefully it's a nice day.

Most times it's not. But that doesn't seem to discourage them too much.

Most come just for the historical value of it,

but there's quite a few for different types of spiritual healing.

One or two that come here periodically, you know?

Maybe every year, maybe every two years. There's some come here twice a year,

and draw what they say is energy out of the stones and recharge their batteries.

Is there's a feeling locally that this is something special?

Well, growing up to it, it's just the same as...

you've got the lovely hills here, you walk the hills, you don't think they're anything special,

it's only when you maybe come back again or visit other places or hear the reaction

of the visitors from other places that you realise that you've got a very special site on your hands.

Walking in here today, I sort of feel something quite significant.

I'm not saying I feel pulses of power coming out, but I certainly do feel I'm within

something that is very, very, very ancient and very, very important.

Well, you're talking about something that's been up for, say, 5,000 years

and it's something that hasn't been damaged or taken away by generation after generation,

it is wild and it hasn't changed.

From Callanish, it's about 30 miles to my journey's end at the Butt of Lewis,

but I have to confess that I've always tended to avoid the flatlands of Lewis,

concentrating on the hills further south.

So I'm keen to meet up with someone who's chosen to make her home here.

A former professional cyclist, Andrea Ingram used to coach Britain's top riders,

including Paralympic gold medallist Aileen McGlynn and her co-rider Ellen Hunter.

But Andrea's put all that behind her and she now lives in the small community of North Tolsta.

So what's drawn her here, to this particular island?

It feels like you're alive.

You go out on the peat,

where we cut the peats, you know, and it's just so peaceful,

and all you've got round you

is the birds and the wind.

An old way of life it seems, in the main, that still is hanging in there.

It is a really beautiful place.

The thing is about North Tolsta particularly,

apart from the people, which obviously are the most important thing,

is the end of the road. So, just a couple of miles beyond here,

the road finishes at Garry Beach and Traigh Mhor Beach,

which are beautiful beaches and amazing scenery,

and then out on the head, it's, you know, it's moorland

and ash on the peats at the back where we cut the peats,

that's really beautiful too, because, when you go out on these old peat tracks,

they're really stunning tracks, and all the peat cuttings around you,

you realise that must have been cut for hundreds of years like that and it's quite astounding, really.

Ill health meant that Andrea had to give up her career as a cyclist,

but this gave her the chance to explore another aspect of her life - photography.

I was introduced by my father years ago, he used to do it.

And then again when I couldn't cycle so much, I just decided I would start capturing images at the Velodrome,

which is where I started, pictures of Chris Hoy, Victorian Pendleton and the other people around.

It's funny because, when I came up here everyone said,

"Oh, it will be wonderful, you'll be able to do so many landscapes." I don't do many landscapes.

I get really fed up, personally, with seeing pictures of this place in bright sunshine,

hugely saturated colours and all the rest of it and it's just not me.

I like to try and capture something else up here.

And I like using the old cameras, you know, which people are throwing out now.

They're just beautiful tools and they're beautifully made

and you can see all the craftsmanship in them,

-but you know we live in this society where almost everybody's got a digital camera.

-That's right.

Have you ever been tempted to get caught up with the simplicity of digital photography?

Well, we have a little digital camera, but I don't like using it. There's just something about it,

it doesn't do it for me. With these things you...

You have to work hard to use them,

check the light with the light meter and so on to get your exposures right,

and then when you're printing as well, in the dark room, you're really engaged in the project,

so out of a roll of film from this camera I may only get one picture I like,

and then, in a year, I may only get two or three pictures I really love, that really speaks to me.

But that's fine by me.

It's not a job, I'm doing it because I love doing it.

This sort of thing, I use for more documentary style things.

So when I've been doing...

Following a crofter just down the road I've been using a camera like that.

The first pictures I did, actually,

was him butchering up Junior, the bullock, on the kitchen table, which is a bit gruesome.

-A bit gruesome, I'd say.

-Yeah.

Seems to me you're shooting predominantly in black and white. Why?

I think with the colour you can get too distracted with the colour

and I like the shapes you get and things like that.

And also, of course, I can do easily black and white in my own dark room.

You don't sell your photographs?

Oh, occasionally. I had a little exhibition in An Lanntair and I did sell a few.

But it's not primarily why I do it.

-I don't want it to go that way.

-Why?

Because I want it to remain fun.

I don't want to have the pressure of producing pictures

that other people like, I want to do what I like.

And if people like them, all well and good, and if they don't, well,

I like them, that's all that matters.

But, for me, it's back on the bike for the last few miles.

The road to journey's end is the A857, but up here you're not likely to be troubled by the traffic.

You get a real feeling you're approaching somewhere significant.

This is frontier land, there aren't so many settlements,

just a huge space created by flat moorland and sea

with very little to spoil this lovely sense of being alone.

As Andrea said, it is peaceful and calming in a way

that's quite unlike the feelings I ever get in the mountains.

But that's enough from me right now.

For a few minutes just sit back and relish these open moorlands

and the seabird-haunted cliffs of North Lewis.

There's nowhere else quite like it.

You know, I've just enjoyed one of the finest bike rides I've ever had anywhere.

Right up here, the West Coast of Lewis,

with the blue sea sparkling on one side and the peat moors kind of going on forever on the other side.

And all under this beautiful blue, almost Mediterranean sky.

The weather has been absolutely fantastic.

And here I am at the Butt of Lewis,

a spectacular end to what has been a truly spectacular journey.

You know, when I began this journey down in Vatersay,

I had this distinct feeling that I was in another country.

The culture was different, the language was different,

the landscapes were all quite different.

But in the course of travelling up through all these islands, walking and cycling,

I've come to realise that the Western Isles are but one aspect

of the fantastic diversity that Scotland has to offer.

I've seen some of the most fantastic beaches that you'll see anywhere,

I've wandered round some marvellous castles,

I've heard some great tales of history and folklore, climbed some absolutely superb mountains,

and it's all here in the Western Isles,

on this chain of islands that are on the very edge of Europe.

And, if I've got anything else to say, it's get yourself over here as soon as you can.

It's a fantastic place and I recommend it to you with a passion.

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