Alluring call of the wild in Scotland

May 14 2010 By Sarah Probert

Sarah Probert finds a special place full of bird life, beaches and accordions on the beautiful islands of Uist.

A crowded beach is one with three people on it, guide James Macletchie explains as we observe a stretch of white sand, populated by little more than a few strands of sea kelp and the odd shuffling oystercatcher.

The only sign of movement on this beach, where Bonnie Prince Charlie is said to have first set foot on Scottish soil on his bid to win back the crown for his father, is a ferry leaving the harbour, off to the neighbouring island of Barra.

A few houses dot along this remote coastline of Eriskay, a tiny community reached by a causeway from neighbouring South Uist, which sits more than 60 miles off the Scottish mainland in the outer Hebrides.

Here we see more wild ponies than people walking along these single track roads.

This scenic spot is also the true location of the Whisky Galore story, where the SS Politician went aground in 1941, losing its cargo of whisky.

James is currently enjoying a slice of fame in the BBC2 series Monty Hall’s Great Hebridean Escape. James, a former ranger on the islands until funding ran out, is helping the TV presenter and marine biologist Monty be a volunteer wildlife ranger on the Uists, in a bid to boost tourism and raised the islands’ profile.

Monty is seen creating marked trails across this dramatic and unforgiving landscape, where there is not a tree in sight, just miles of undulating land full of scorched brown heather and peat bogs.

He is also seen giving guided walks to promote the islands’ rich wildlife and getting involved in some of the local traditions, including a rather bizarre ritual of bashing some urine-soaked Harris tweed.

From the air, the islands look almost Caribbean, with brilliant white sandy beaches and turquoise waters providing an exotic edging to the more recognisable barren Scottish landscape.

The land is broken up by hundreds of tiny lochs, many brimming with trout and salmon and some home to otters and seals.

The weather here is as dramatic as the landscape, as we battle through wind, followed by sunny spells and a few brief bouts of rain which are blown in as quickly as they are blown out again. I have long dreamed for a life on a smallholding, but I don’t envy the crofters’ life here – battling against the elements. In the summer the sun never sets, but in winter one imagines very cold, dark, blustery winter days.

The harsh elements are visualised on many a local’s face, populated by thick creases and wind bashed hair, a wonderful contrast to their beautifully soft Scottish lilt.

These close-knit communities where one hotelier joked: “We don’t need journalists to work here, we know everything that is going on” keep up many thriving traditions, from Highland games to Scottish dancing.

During our stay at the family-run Lochboisdale Hotel on South Uist, a Friday night’s entertainment is the local accordion and fiddle group playing a host of traditional tunes, accompanied by a few locals maintaining what seemed to be rather difficult Scottish dancing moves.

One player appeared to doze off during the set, before abruptly waking to play a verse or two, only to doze off again. The tiny dance floor was lined with ageing folk, although to one side there was a group of hippy looking youths. It became apparent they too were visitors – to rescue the hedgehog population, which is not liked in these parts (and therefore killed) for eating rare birds eggs.