The last day on Lewis

For our foray to the far west of the island the weather was dark and moody.  Had it been warm and sunny I wouldn't have appreciated the sturdy and snug little cafe at Loch Croistean, so as far as I was concerned, the weather was perfect.  This little place stands out in my memory, it was so unassuming, comfortable and homey.  The food was wholesome and delicious.  And it was warm and cosy.    
                    

For me, the weather was perfect for everything we saw and did that day.  I asked Graham to stop the car so we could photograph the scene below and now I'm trying to figure out why it appealed to me.  Walking back down the road from where we parked the car with my jacket zipped up to the neck and my scarf firmly in place, feeling the cold biting against my face,  helped me to appreciate the beauty of the place.  I kept thinking the landscape on the island was desolate but that's the wrong word.  It's not dreary and dismal although there is a grim-ness about some places.  I suspect those places would be bleak and horribly depressing in winter. As a farmer, my heart would go out to those who were trying to make a living from the land.  The little boat sitting forlornly against that rocky shore looked abandoned until I saw the little orange floats close by.  That scene reflects how I felt about the countryside, I think.  It looked deserted, forsaken until you look closely.  Because of the limitations of my background I couldn't see what was really going on.  I'm hopelessly failing at expressing how beautiful I found the landscape.  And how surprised I was to find what I would have otherwise thought of as dull, featureless, nothingness was in fact very beautiful.   

Over the road from the little bay were stockyards, community yards I'd say as they were too big for one farmer, especially as there were so few sheep around.   My guess is the old microwave is used to keep paperwork dry.  I suppose that, like here, livestock go to market with paperwork. 

Out on the west coast the weather added atmosphere to the wild Atlantic rolling on to that isolated beach.  

At the Information Stones at Breanish I followed the rocky little path in the direction Graham pointed.  The wind was getting a bit serious so I didn't linger for too long.  Each of the rocks you see in the photo has a place name and how far that place is from that point, Nova Scotia, North Pole, etc.  And New Zealand, the most distant at 11,288 miles.  A long way from home for sure.

I'd seen quite a few stunning beaches during my few days on Lewis and this was one of the finest.  The threat of bad weather meant not a single soul was to be seen.    

I feel sad all over again now that I've finished my posts about my Outer Hebridian adventure.

The Lewis locals

No, I'm not going to psychoanalyse Graham's friends who I met over dinner one night.  I'm thinking about the locals around Uig.  Isn't that a great placename?  It's meaning, thought to be derived from Old Norse, is a disappointment, being simply bay or inlet.

I was fascinated by the huge wooden carved chessmen that appeared by the roadside. There's lots of information in google land about the original Uig Chessmen - Discovered in 1831 on the Isle of Lewis in the Outer Hevrides, they may constitute some of the few complete, surviving medieval chess sets, although it is not clear if a set as originally made can be assembled from the pieces. When found, the hoard contained 93 artifacts: 78 chess pieces, 14 tablemen and one belt buckle. Today, 82 pieces are owned and usually exhibited by the British Museum in London, and the remaining 11 are at the National Museum of Scotland in Edinburgh.

The Uig Community Council commissioned  Stephen Heyward to design some wooden replicas to place on the machair at Ardroil near the spot where the chessmen were found.



I think they need an information plaque to explain what they represent.  They seemed incongruous to me sitting as they did by themselves close to the road, larger than life, miles from anywhere.

 Towards the end of the road, the locals were a lot more warmblooded.

They paid no attention to us, there was no doubt about it, we were expected to give way to them.  They were moving sedately down the road with purpose.  We stopped, it was obvious they had no intention of doing so.  They politely and quietly walked past the car, ignoring us.  Beautiful creatures!

These folk weren't going anywhere.  They were put there to entertain and I guess they will stay there until a storm whisks them away.