Are we there yet...?

1st stop - in the quiet glen

When we first moved to Lewis, it was January. We were in a holiday house and were told that we were fine to stay long term, but a couple always booked the house out for the first 2 weeks of April.  This was fine, we found a wonderful house down at the loch's edge and stayed there for 18 more months. What we didnt realise at the time was how reliable the holidaying couple's barometer was. 

2nd stop - down by the loch

The winters feel long on Lewis - the days are short, roughly from 9.30am - 3.30pm at midwinter and by March everyone is desperate for the grass to start growing. Then come the first 2 weeks of April - Pop! Spring is here! The sheep know the time is right and the villages are suddenly filled with lambs. Old abandoned houses fill their gardens with daffodils planted by inhabitants long gone and everyone breathes a sigh of relief.

Gravir is an 'open village' for grazing so the sheep have right of way

Don't get me wrong, I also like the winter... because I'm lazy. I love drawing the curtains and ramping the fire up. There are so many films to enjoy and the internet to explore. And I love to sleep!  That wonderful moment when you're just dropping off and you feel like you leave your body.  When I was younger I loved to interpret my dreams and wonder at what they meant. While I still dream vividly, in full colour, I place more emphasis on daydreams now, just using the night work for insight.

In some ways the summer is too much here, the days are from 3.30am - 12am at midsummer. When its 10.30 at night and the sun is streaming in through the windows, its quite exhausting. 'Come on come on!'  its saying 'look at the day! Get out and enjoy it!'.

This year I cant wait for spring, again. Its mid March and I've just put duckling eggs in the incubator. In 28 days time they should be hatching and we'll have had our first 2 weeks of April.  I guess after becoming a Mum and having 2 babies of my own, I can't resist the joy of new cute bundles - but without all the pain and sleep deprivation that comes with your own children.

The first time I made baby chicks, was such an interesting experiment. I made life, just with the right ingredients, heat and time! Morris especially loved to sit and watch them feeding, sleeping, twitching.  I would watch him watching them = 2 levels of cuteness in one sitting <sigh>

I've tried to hatch ducks before and had no luck, lets hope this spring - when it finally arrives - proves to be more successful. Just have to be patient in the meantime....

  

Memory and connecting accross distance

Since moving to the island, to get over missing family and old friends back on the mainland, we have become regular Facebook users. My Mum has even become a silver surfer, though when i took her to buy a laptop, she got to the till and forgot her pin number, which wasn't a good start with technology....

This weekend I have joined a group called 'If you live in Halstead...' which asks for memories of the town I grew up in. The group has been a ravaging phenomena, growing its members to over 1300 in 48 hours.  Halstead, when I lived there, was about the size of Stornoway - 1 secondary school, 1 sports centre/swimming pool and far too many hairdressers and pubs.

The site has brought together so many scattered people, sharing a collective memory of a place and similar or shared experiences.  The positive energy generated by this group is obvious from its viral growth. Like the branches of a tree, one has passed on to many, who in turn pass on to many more. The speed of member growth is a testiment to the happiness shared memories evoke.

In many cases with the posts, it is a place which triggers memory - we have all played at a certain park in our childhood and each of us has had an individual relationship with for instance, the slide. In the same way that Citizen Kane's last words were 'Rosebud' the name of his sledge, perhaps we all remember the slide well because of the thrill it gave us.

Greenwood Park's slide and one of its many happy users

What I find more interesting is the idea of shared memory, which may be false or fabricated, or borrowed from an original telling.  I am sure I remember getting my pants stuck on the top of the slide one time!  They ripped and it caused maybe a mixture of embarressment, shock and humour - all intense emotions which are said to help to 'fix' a memory. However via the facebook group I have heard 4 other childhood stories of pants and trousers ripping at the top of the slide. Of course its highly possible that all of us just fell victim to the same broken slide, but I wonder whether there is more happening here too. Such a story or anecdote could easily have been shared over the years, retold and in retelling attributed to our own experiences, rather than as a group story. The study of 'false memories' seems quite popular in academia, I wonder if facebook could become a repository for subjects to collect data from...

Obviously people everywhere enjoy sharing memories and most especially so on the islands. The local historical societies here are very popular, both with the islanders who have strong family connections already, but also with foreigners who are tracing their family roots.  Because many families were forced to immigrate in the 1800's because of the Clearances, there are many people who can now connect across the distance to their past, and unlock their own precious memories.

The Pairc Historical Society and Hebridean Connections facebook pages have just started putting up photographs which not only serve as a historical record, but make people feel part of a collective through sharing the same memories, or memories of the same place or event.

I wonder what effect this will have on human cognitive development in the coming years - the ability to recall memories is something that we all hope to hang onto as we get older. Perhaps social networking will show itself to be a social good for improving memory in old age and improving our mental well being and happiness in the future....

The Sights and Sounds of South Lochs

Lewis is much bigger than you expect. The West coast is laced with white sandy beaches, sheltering in secluded coves. The North is flat and green with strips of crofts leading down to flat shores. But the East coast is craggy with pebble beaches and natural habour villages for fishing boats.

Marvig - fisherman's village

Harris to the south sets a mountainous barrier between Lewis and Harris - in fact they should really be one island, but it wasn't realised until 1935 that there was a pass through the mountains and the land was actually connected.

The highest peak, An Clisham, between Harris and lewis

 So heading south from Stornoway towards Harris and its main town Tarbet, you take a left turn halfway between our two capitals, to South Lochs.
Its a pretty drive with, as the name suggests, lots of lochs. The small freshwater lochs are covered in lillies in spring and summer, and attract returning pairs of hooper swans at the end of February.

First stop on the map is in the village of Sheildenish, home to the Loch Erisort Inn, or the Cleitcher as all the locals prefer to call it.  They do food, have rooms, a pool table and peat fires.

The stretch from Sheildenish to the next village Habost passes through a wild corridoor of moorland where you often see eagles catching a thermal, or resting on a fence post. The eagles are either Sea/White tailed eagles, or Golden eagles and they are HUGE. 

Habost is the home of Hebridean Sea Salt, destination for my daily commute and as work environments go its a very pretty setting. The business units were designed by our local councillor during his day job and they sit quite neatly amongst the scenery.

The Secretary of State for Scotland at Heb Sea Salt's official opening

 Running from one into the other, Habost becomes Kershader at a small river surrounded by polytunnels. Two belong to the village and residents of Habost, and two belong to the recurrent winner at the Lochs Agricultural Show.  The Habost tunnels sell strawberries and pot plants in the summer, both at their gate and at the local shop.

From the far end of Kershader, looking back to Habost

As you drive along the shore of Loch Erisort through Kershader you will see the shop, hostel, museum and cafe at Ravenspoint.  The name comes from the piece of our croft just beyond it, in Gaelic Rubha An Fhitich (pronounced Roo-an-yeech). Last year they also installed a 24 hour petrol pump, which has
proved invaluable to the local community who would otherwise have an hour round trip just to get fuel. Unfortunately the tank is bright blue and above ground - not the best design for a scenic area, but needs must I suppose.

Just before the next village Garyvard, off the road down by the shore are the remains of a Norse mill. Dating to about 800AD, the stone mill wheels are clearly identifiable amongst the tumbledown stones of the building which used to surround it.

At Garyvard is an art studio and residential artists retreat.  The road bears inland and there is a nice pathed walk from the pier up to the village of Caversta accross the croftland.

Garyvard

At this point the road turns single track, with plenty of passing places, so more time to take in the scenery.
After the Caversta village turn, where theres a particularly abundant water lilly loch, the road runs up the hill with the first of the visible peat cuttings on the right. At the Marvig/Cromore turn you are well into peat cutting land and the slabs of dark fudge are laid out at any time from April through 'til August.

Peat cutting

Note the nuclear-blast-resistant bus shelter at this turn, cut into 4 quadrants to cover any wind direction and bear right which will take you to Gravir, where we first lived when we arrived on Lewis.

 Its a beautiful view as you pass over the cattle grid, accross to the hills of the Eiskein estate.  The local primary school, doctors surgery and post office are in Gravir, as is the stunning Kebboch head at the end of loch Odhairn.

The road carries on to the furthest villages of Lemreway and Orinsay.  As you climb up the hill out of Gravir and wind along more peat cuttings, you will come around a final corner and see an impressive sight. The Shiant Isles, wallowing in the Minch like a great sea dragon stretch out about 4 miles from land.

 Orinsay is a turn off just at the bottom of the Lemreway hill and enjoys the same phenomenal views of the Shiants.  There is a path near the end of the road which leads to the deserted village of Stemreway, a well worn path taking you accross to the other side of the bay and back in time.

Returning to Gravir the way you've come, turn right into the village and down to the head of the loch.  You can park at the bridge where there is a small slip, a perfect entry point for kayaking. The loch is often flat and calm and used by seals and otters who will come to see you.  You can park at the slip and walk up past the old school to the 'Toiun'. There are a few houses and crofts along the way but many many more blackhouse ruins from Gravir's busier times.

Loch Odhairn at Gravir

Along the side of the loch, you can see a wrecked boat's hull on your walk, dating back to C    it was called the Roselea. All along the south facing hill are the old lazy beds up on top of the hill more ruined blackhouses.

At the top you is Kebboch head, an impressive jut of Lewisean gneiss and on a clear day you can see accross the Minch to the mainland.

Kebboch head, watching over the cages of the fish farms...

Following the road on the other side of the loch will take you past the pier, a number of holiday cottages, the home of Island Flies and up the (steep) hill and off to Calbost.

Much has been written about Calbost thanks to the local historian Angus Macleod who has an archive in his honour at Ravenspoint.

It is a stunning discovery as you recover from the roller coaster single track road and drop down into the village.  If you park near No. 8 where there is a holiday house, you can follow a path, past a magical house we wanted to buy and find a secluded pebble beach.

The pebbles make an incredible sound as you walk accross them - they are large at the shoreline and get steadily smaller towards the back, where they have ground against each other for decades, steadily, smoothly getting smaller and lighter and getting tossed backwards by the sea. The west may have the white sandy beaches of postcards, but this is an equal yet opposite experience.

Following the circular road through Calbost will take you past Marvig next. The old schoolhouse is a spectacular B&B - Heather will also cook an evening meal if you can't leave the tranquil setting.  The village has a natural harbour and many fisherman have their homes here, going out for prawn or mackerel which they sell jst up the coast at Stornoway.
The final village in South Lochs is Cromore - as you follow the roller coater road to the village, you can see far into the distance - the 3 mock turbines on the road to Stornoway and the TV aerial at Achmore. It is a surprisingly well populated village for one of the most remote places, but the roads can be awful in wintertime - the Council has downgraded the gritting priority of the road so that it doesn't get gritted until 9.30am - not good for workers or school children on the bus.  But perfectly picturesque for visitors to the area enjoying the sights and sounds of South Lochs in plenty of their own time.