Isle of Barra

The Outer Herbrides form an archipelago off the west coast of Scotland and Barra sits almost at the bottom of the chain. An 85-mile ferry journey is required via the Sound of Mull and Atlantic Ocean in order to reach this remote outpost. Barra is famed for it's wide sandy beaches and one of them even hosts an airport! It's a place we had talked about visiting for some time and we booked a three-night stay in Castlebay, the main settlement.

The Barra ferry departs from Oban, a bustling seaside town in Argyll and a worthy destination in itself. We spent a couple of nights here back in 2005 and took a boat trip around Kerrera Island out in the bay. The Oban skyline is dominated by McCaig's Folly - a partially completed granite structure that was originally intended to resemble the Colosseum. John Stuart McCaig drew up the plans himself but his death brought an end to construction when only the outer shell was in place. The ferry port is situated next to the railway terminus and services run to ten different islands. CalMac (short for Caledonian MacBrayne) is the state-owned operator and it's fair to say the national ferry situation has been a thorn in the flesh of the Scottish Government of late, with an ageing fleet awaiting long overdue replacements that are still sitting in a shipyard, while costs continue to soar. Some islands have suffered recent disruption to their link with the mainland but thankfully there were no issues with the Barra route - served by the 1995 vessel MV Isle of Lewis. We were travelling as foot passengers and the return fare was £31 per person. It would have cost an extra £150 to take the car and since we were operating on a modest budget, we decided to leave Dolly Duster in Oban. But where? The town is notoriously tight for parking but I found a solution. The large Tesco supermarket rents out car-park spaces for long stays and I booked a berth for £25. We wandered over to the terminal and boarded an impressive ship over 100 metres in length, with room for 680 passengers and 120 cars. There was plenty free space in the lounge and we settled into a comfortable seat. Drinks and light snacks were served here, while a restaurant was situated to the rear of the ship. Both facilities featured panoramic viewing windows and the interconnecting corridors contained the toilet facilities, additional seating and areas reserved for passengers with pets (of which there were quite a few). It was a lovely day and we climbed up to the observation deck as soon as we set sail. Oban began to shrink behind us and we passed Dunollie Castle, standing on a ridge of land overlooking the bay. Dunollie is the seat of the MacDougall clan but the castle was abandoned in 1746. It is now in the care of a preservation trust and open to the public as a community-focussed heritage site. The grounds offer various woodland walks and an admission ticket lasts for 12 months. This enables local people to repeatedly make use of the facilities and all profits from the café and shop are ploughed back into the venture.

The Isle of Kerrera lay to our left and it boasts a population of 45, split over two settlements. There are no public buildings or facilities (apart from two compost toilets provided by the community). The islanders farm sheep and Highland Cattle as their main source of income. A small ferry shuttles back and forth whenever passengers appear and a 7-mile walking circuit attracts hikers. The trail passes the ruined Gylen Castle. One to file away for future consideration. We proceeded into the Sound of Mull - a narrow sea channel with a maximum width of three miles, separating the Isle of Mull and the overhanging mainland. The 20-mile length of the passage meant it took some considerable time to navigate and we spent the duration on deck. We sailed past a lighthouse and spotted the town of Tobermory on Mull. As we entered the Sea of the Hebrides, the wind picked up and we scuttled back to the lounge. Open water lay ahead and there had been no reported sightings of dolphins so far. Perhaps we would get lucky on the return journey. The ship wi-fi was patchy but I listened to a couple of downloaded podcasts to keep me amused. Eventually we caught sight of Barra and the outline of Kisimul Castle became clearer as we neared the port of Castlebay. The castle sits upon a tiny island and Historic Scotland recently signed a 1000-year lease on the property for an annual payment of £1 plus a bottle of whisky. The ferry soon docked and we made our way to the exit ramp. Our accommodation was just 300 yards away and I snapped a photo of the castle as I set foot on Barra. We headed along the coast to Dunard Hostel and checked in. We had a private room in the adjoining lodge and there was a communal kitchen and living room (with roaring fire). A handy base for exploration of the island. The hostel had a strong wi-fi signal but there was no Vodafone service to be found. This posed a problem for Nicole as she had to receive an important work call in a couple of days time but it was eventually sorted out by using a landline in the community hub. The hostel twin room had the usual basic furnishings and cost £60 per night. A dormitory bed was priced at £27 per person and it's worth paying an extra few pounds for the increased privacy. After a hot meal, we settled in for the night and woke up the following morning, eager to see Barra.

The island basically has one 12-mile circular road, with a spur leading to the airport at the northern tip. A handful of minibuses per day provide the public transport network and fares are low. No card tapping upon entering the vehicle, strictly cash only. Fortunately I had brought a little stack of pound coins after reading some travel tips online. We caught an early service in the centre of Castlebay and went as far as the Isle of Barra Beach Hotel. It had yet to open for the tourist season but the view over the small Tangasdale Beach was spectacular. The combination of golden sands and deep blue water was breathtaking. We watched oystercatchers by the shore and then walked the mile and a half along the road back to Castlebay. The route took us by Tangasdale Loch (the largest body of freshwater on the island). A path ran towards the beach but we wanted to be at the community shop before lunchtime in order to enquire about using a telephone line the following day. The staff were most helpful and we can't possibly have been the first people to request this favour. The two public phone boxes in Castlebay had been a potential option but the equipment was rusted to the point of being inoperable. I thought BT still had an obligation to maintain old-style services in remote areas not properly covered by mobile networks. Perhaps that too has fallen by the wayside. Anyway, problem solved, we perused the variety of offerings within the premises. Local arts and crafts were on sale, as well as drinks and snacks. The space also functions as a free wi-fi zone and tourist information office. The more advanced digital hub is available to residents and visitors and is fully equipped with webcams and headphones etc, allowing locals to conduct online meetings and appointments free of charge. Tourists can use the desktop computers for personal business at a rate of £5 per hour. The operation is run by volunteers and the atmosphere is extremely cordial. I picked up a copy of the local Hebridean newspaper - the front page of which, surprise, surprise, moaned about the current state of the ferry services. I bought a few postcards and Nicole treated herself to a woollen hat. She wanted to put something back in after receiving vital assistance.

We wandered down to the ferry dock and had a look at the café inside the post office. It served only sweet fare and we decided to try our luck at the Castlebay Hotel instead. Before heading back up the hill, I watched two Royal Mail Transit vans being loaded to the gunwales with parcels, no doubt the daily arrival of online shopping orders. I suspect many of the packages begin their journey with a private courier, who then engage the King's Mail to fulfil the troublesome and expensive final leg. We also learned from the bus driver that Barra residents can book an online delivery from Asda for a flat fee of £5. The refrigerated lorry that transports seafood produce from the island to the mainland brings the groceries back from Glasgow and this arrangement avoids the situation of the vehicle running empty half of the time. Everybody wins! Well, perhaps not the local Co-op, 200 yards along from the hostel. I didn't actually find their prices too steep. Not a great deal more expensive than what we pay back home to be frank. But no doubt a bulk buy from Asda is cost-effective and offers more choice. The tentacles of online commerce know no bounds. The Castlebay Hotel sits above the village centre, overlooking the harbour towards the Island of Vatersay. We arrived at noon and were welcomed into the restaurant. Being the first to arrive, we were to choose a table with amazing sea views. The best seat in the house! The lunch menu was fairly basic, but burger and chips is a firm favourite of mine. Nicole opted for the same. In fairness, the tourist season had barely begun and you can't expect the hotel to offer a wide selection when only a handful of people might turn up. The food was perfectly adequate and I washed it down with a pint of McEwan's 80-shilling. The bill came to just short of £40 but that's the going rate for two people nowadays. Fed and watered, we caught the next bus up to the airport. An elderly local man also came aboard and asked where we were from. Upon hearing that I grew up in Lochgelly, a smile appeared on his face. The gentleman had been well acquainted with the town's infamous tawse during his schooldays. The instrument of corporal punishment dates back to the late 1800s and by the mid-20th century, the thick leather strap made by John J Dick Leather Goods had a 70% share of the Scottish market. The company still trades in Lochgelly today and a heavyweight tawse will set you back £175. It's use has of course been prohibited in schools since the early 1980s. I couldn't possibly comment on the reasons for buying such a weighty implement today!

We arrived at the airport on the narrow top part of the island. Uniquely, the largest beach acts as the runway. There had been a delay to the flight and it wasn't due to land for over an hour. The flat sands spread out beyond the terminal building but a path led in the direction of the dunes behind us. We decide to investigate and were rewarded by panoramic views of another beach from our sandy summit. We walked down to sea level and strolled along as the Atlantic Ocean lapped at our heels. A fabulous experience. Back at the airport, we found a spot behind the boundary railings that would allow us to observe the plane coming in. It was an exposed and breezy location but I recall learning in a physics classroom that taking off into a blustery headwind allows the aircraft to quickly become airbourne. We bumped into a Japanese aviation enthusiast who was currently working in Glasgow. He had arrived on the early flight, spent a few hours at the terminal and was heading back the same day. The bus driver had told us this type of itinerary was by no means unusual. Eventually an object appeared in the sky and descended towards us. We could make out it was a small propeller craft and it swooped right over our heads to touch down on the sands. Well worth seeing. The turnaround time was barely half an hour and the engines fired up in readiness for take off. What I hadn't bargained for was the strength of the backdraught and the sand was whipped up in our faces as the plane accelerated away and took to the skies. The wind was becoming decidedly chilly and we entered the tiny terminal building in search of a hot drink. We hung around for another half hour until the bus to Castlebay arrived. The driver informed us that most Barra residents have more than one income stream. He also had a small croft and two holiday cottages. The rain started to fall on the journey back to the hostel and we were kindly dropped at the door. A warm night in front of the fire ensued.

We knew the weather prospects for our final full day weren't great but the rain did ease off mid-morning, allowing us to take a wander along a coastal path. We passed the old harbour and were treated to some fine views across the open sea and backwards to the castle. Vatersay (population 90, and pictured below) was prominent in the distance and we could see the causeway linking the two islands across a narrow strait. Apparently our location was a known spot for otter sightings but they kept themselves hidden today. One new wildlife encounter on the trip so far was the black guillemot - a member of the auk family with bright red feet sticking out below the plumage. The bird is typically found in ones and twos, scattered around rocky islets. We noticed a hooded crow on the walk back to the village. They don't inhabit the same territory as the carrion crow that is common across lowland Scotland. The weather took a turn for the worse and we ducked into the community shop to pick up a few treats. It appeared we would be indoors for the remainder of the day. There was a healthy supply of paper-maché fire logs and I wasted no time in conjuring up a blaze. A dry spell in the evening gave me the chance to run along to the Co-op for a couple of pizzas, the wind basically blowing me back to the hostel. There was good banter at the communal table and we retired for an early night as we had to be up at the crack of dawn for the boat home. The sailing time was 7am and we boarded with bleary eyes. The ferry was lightly loaded and the lounge had plenty available space. I had packed a couple of rolls for breakfast and ate them as we set off for the mainland. I stretched out on the padded seat and promptly fell asleep. Next thing I knew we were halfway along of the Sound of Mull. I headed up on deck and noticed snow on the flanking hills, which I didn't recall seeing on the way in. The weather must be highly changeable around these parts, even in mid-spring. Nicole had spotted a porpoise while I slumbered. Can't win them all.

We were once again treated to excellent views of Kerrera, and Oban loomed ever closer. After disembarking, we bought a couple of souvenirs from the quayside gift shops before retrieving the car (and purchasing lunch) from Tesco. We hit the road and decided to stop at a quirky church we had passed on the outward leg our holiday. St Conan's Kirk stands by the main road in the village of Lochawe. We pulled up in a lay-by and entered the grounds. There was a tearoom on the premises but unfortunately it was just a takeaway service today. Surprisingly, the A-listed church was completed as recently as 1930 - despite the medieval appearance. It was the brainchild of Walter Douglas Campbell, a member of the Scottish aristocracy, who also performed the role of architect. He settled in Lochawe in the 1880s and commissioned the building of a mansion house. According to local legend, Walter's mother found the journey to the existing parish church tiring and he resolved to create a much larger and nobler alternative closer to home. He stuck to no particular style and took influences from a range of places and time periods, mashing together what he considered the best individual features from other churches. Even paganism was included in the form of a (now fallen) stone circle by the entrance gate. Campbell died in 1916 but his sister Helen ensured the grand vision was realised and the church is now one of the biggest tourist attractions in Argyll. It also regularly features in the top-10 list of buildings completed within the last 100 years. A tour of the interior is a visual feast. The heavy oak beams in the cloister came from the broken-up wooden battleships HMS Duke of Wellington and HMS Caledonia. The cloister roof features intricate lead work. Leaning against the wall are two mort safes - heavy iron grids attached to graves in order to deter body snatchers. The church roof boasts complex shapes, decorative design, different materials, square towers and more. Other than the slate section from the earlier part of the building completed in 1886, all other elements were added when the building was dramatically extended. While most of the roof is sound, problems have arisen where different materials intersect. In many places, flashings and skews are no longer effective, gutters inside the parapets are not functioning correctly and several coping stones need securing. Leaks and water ingress can be clearly seen inside the Kirk when it rains.

Thankfully, a substantial amount of lottery funding has been granted to deal with the roof leaks (the highest priority) and additional wall repairs. A program of repointing in lime will require almost the whole building to have a scaffold tower at some point to allow this laborious, time consuming and vital job to be done. There are also necessary stonework repairs internally and externally that will need to be assessed by conservation experts. All this must be a very expensive business. The church receives no money from government sources or any religious body. Each of the building's three chapels are also in need of care and attention. Just in case this work schedule isn't comprehensive enough, there are also plans to upgrade the garden and grounds, including the rebuilding of the stone circle and the removal of two huge non-native trees that contribute to roof damage and also block views across the adjacent Loch Awe. The church is actually perched on a steep slope overlooking the water. I had a stroll around the outdoor terraces and noted the gargoyles (a dog and two hares) looking down at me from the church exterior. The main railway line to Oban runs between the church and loch. Always a bonus to see the iron road! The Bruce Chapel contains a carved wood and alabaster effigy of King Robert the Bruce. Light enters via a centuries-old window that once graced St Mary's Church in Leith. Walter Campbell rescued it from an Edinburgh garden, where it had languished for decades. Below the effigy is a small chamber containing a bone of the King, a gift from Dunfermline Abbey. Campbell's tomb is situated in St Bride's Chapel. His sister Helen is also interred here. It is said the small star-shaped window high up at the far end of the aisle is positioned to allow the rising sun to light Campbell's effigy. The third chapel is St Conval's. It contains the remains of the Fourth Lord Blythswood, who oversaw the finishing touches to the kirk after Helen Campbell passed away in 1927. The memorial stone sits on two large marble slabs. We strolled around the nave, soaking up the atmosphere and admiring the superb craftsmanship. Is the church worthy of a day trip in itself? Yes, I think it probably is.

We hit the road and took a slight detour to visit the Perthshire conservation village of Killin. The Falls of Dochart run through the centre, a spectacular series of rapids at the western end of Loch Tay. Killin is nestled at the foot of Ben Lawers - the highest mountain in the southern Highland, just under 4000 feet high. The region is known as Breadalbane and legend says a Celtic folk hero named Fingal was buried in Killin after literally losing his head over a fairy woman. Gaelic was the majority language in Killin until the 20th century and could still be heard within the community as late as the 1970s. The Perthshire dialect is now expected to die out as only a handful of elderly speakers remain and there is no joined-up language community. The A827 is carried over the River Dochart by a narrow bridge dating from 1760 and sporting four main arches. Major rebuilding works were carried out in 1831 but the bridge remains a curious affair, with the carriageway barely wide enough to accommodate a lorry or tour coach. Indeed, we had to squeeze in against the parapet when walking across, to allow larger vehicles to pass. At one end of the bridge, Inchbuie stands in the water. This small wooded island hosts the ancient burial grounds of Clan MacNab. Many of the graves are located within an 18th-century walled enclosure but you have to request keys from the local library in order to gain access. We looked down upon the historic site from the bridge and then headed into a souvenir shop. The falls were quiet today and visitors were taking selfies out on the flat rocks. We resumed our journey homewards and re-entered urban Scotland. It had been a great few days away.