Halaman Bay on Barra
The misty start soon gave way to sunshine illuminating the lovely beaches before the clouds again won control of the sky. The fields were only lightly grazed by cattle and sheep, alowing buttercups, daisies and clover to flourish. We soon circumnavigated this small pastoral island, returning to Castlebay for a picnic lunch then back up to the northern end with a detour to the small airport to occupy the time until the Eriskay ferry. This is the only UK airport where flights are "subject to tides" as the runway is covered at high tide, being a beach littered with cockle shells!
The ferry left in the drizzle at 15:30 and on landing we cycled north across this tiny island and over the new causeway linking it to South Uist. Just off this causeway is the wreck of the SS Politician which ran aground in 1941 and sank with its cargo which included 20,000 cases of whisky. This provided several years' supply to many of the locals and formed the basis of the novel "Whisly Galore" which in turn spawned the Ealing comedy.
South Uist was scrubby with undistinguished buildings scattered over the low lying land - a concrete monstrosity of a church, telegraph poles, portakabins, half-cylindrical constructions with corrugated asbestos roofs - a disappointment. The weather was grey and cool, too miserable even for rain.
At the turning for the hostel was a bus garage, where a restored MacBrayne vehicle from 1952 stood outside. MacBrayne is now part of Caledonian MacBrayne, or CalMac, who operate most of the major Scottish ferries, so it was interesting to learn that they once ran buses too. There was also a bike repair business operating from a house on the corner, with masses of rusty old bikes outside.
The Gatliff Trust hostel was simple but sociable and we enjoyed the evening with Ashley and Val whom we'd met on the ferry from Oban, and with other hostellers touring by car. By the hostel was a beautifully restored thatched house, selling their own produce. Ashley strolled over in the evening to buy eggs for theirs and our breakfast but no-one answered. The warden told us later that they always go to bed at seven o'clock!