Hebridean Long Distance Cycling Route

Day 7 - Liniclate, Kildonan, Lochboisdale

It was an unusual, and pleasant, experience to wake up in such a comfortable bed. The "Crofters' Special" breakfast that I had was rather more than my usual bowl of porridge too! Well filled and rested, I checked out of the hotel and entered another grey morning, the grass bending in waves to the gusty wind. But the wind was not as strong as yesterday, and I made steady progress in a southerly direction.

Early on, there was another causeway to cross, the long straight road on its massive boulders taking me across a shorter "ford" than yesterday. I was soon on South Uist, following the flat straight road down the centre of the island, the mountains dimly visible through the low cloud on my left, the sea not visible at all, but about a mile across the fields and machair to the right.

Lochboisdale - a tiny village...

The weather had brightened up a little by lunchtime, and I followed a track off to the right out to a headland. There I sat over lunch and spent a leisurely hour or so watching the waves come in and the tide go out, and reading. I moved on about two-thirty, and after about an hour and a half was approaching Lochboisdale. The clouds had almost cleared for a while, and for a moment I was tempted to sleep out again, but the forecast was not good and this time the first B&B that I came to had a bed. I booked in and then went out again to see the harbour. Lochboisdale was a tiny village, but I spent a pleasant hour looking round a photographic exhibition, portraits of different generations of islanders. It was building on the work of a photographer who had been in the islands in the 1950s, and seeing the change in faces over a 40 year period as well as the in many cases striking family resemblences was quite diverting. I called in at the Tourist Office and bought Derek Cooper's "The Road to Mingaulay", an interesting account of practically the same journey that I had just made rather in the style of Hunter Davies' "A Walk Around the Lakes".

A dream fulfilled...

Mrs Macdonald, back at the B&B, hadn't been quite sure if she would be able to provide a dinner for me - it would depend how successful her husband was at his fishing. Fortunately, he had made a good catch and I dined well on fresh brown trout. Meanwhile the rain spattered on the windows and I mentally thanked the forecasters for ensuring that I wasn't spending the night on the moor! Tomorrow I would leave on the ferry to Oban but for now I had come to rest, finally at the end of my Hebridean tour - a dream fulfilled.