Marathon 2 - UGLY weather!

After dropping Lill off and saying farewell, I headed south towards England and hit the first wave of intense rain. By this point, I had been driving for about 8 hours or so and I started looking for a campground to pitch a tent, keep dry and hide away until the weather improved. No luck and the rain just started to get worse so decided to "go for it" and head to Dover. I thought at the time that the conditions were really bad. I had no idea that they could actually get way worse and by the time I reached Dover at 0130 the next morning, I was pretty uncomfortable, hungry, tired and very wet. (Gore tex can only go so far - you would need a neoprene scuba dry-suit for this type of weather.) Dover was, for the most part, closed at that time of night, but I managed to talk my way into the cue for one of the ferry crossings and was aboard the Pride of Dover at around 0230 hrs on Sunday morning.
The crossing was a little bouncy because of the weather, but it felt good to get some food and warm tea after the nearly 20 hours of driving. Sometime in the late afternoon at one of the gas stops, I managed to step on my glasses so had to drive without any eye protection for the balance of the trip. (The only glasses I could get in the gas station were dark black tinted thingys which totally blind you at night with rain.) So, I took advantage on the crossing to squirt Visine into my stinging eyes and hope for better weather as the sun rose on the French coast
No such luck. The storm followed us across the Channel and seemed to me to be even more intense when the ferry docked in Calais. The ferry was absolutely full - even at this time of night - as people were heading to Paris for the last phase of the Tour de France as well as with families off to Spain and Portugal to get some semblance of a summer vacation away from the record-breaking rainfall in England.
So, plugged on from Calais past Dunkirk and headed for Gent Belgium and onward to Antwerp. I finally arrived in Antwerp around 1000 hrs on Sunday morning, a brutal 28 hours after leaving Inverness.

Let me see if I can put together a list of misery:
rain [check]
cold [check]
dark [check]
detours [check]
trucks [check]
intense fog [check]
roundabouts [check]
hungry/thirsty [double check]
all together [yikes check]

I pulled into the Formula 1 motel in north eastern Antwerp and was very lucky to get a room (albeit an smoking room) so I got all my gear off and hung up on any hook or bar I could find in the room and out the window. Must have looked quite the site!
There is a shared shower room on each floor of the motel so I snagged the room and turned the water temp to a fraction below scalding. Sure felt great! By the time I got back to the room, I looked outside and damned if the sun wasn't shining. Well, I was wide awake by this time anyway so I decided to go for a leisurely drive (don't say it... I know how to spell stupid) because I hadn't seen Antwerp in anything but rain and wouldn't likely see it again in the near future - soooo...... off I went again. Gotta be nuts!

Winding down and preparations for Marathon2

Driving around and in between the rain clouds. There can be no doubt that we've seen our share of rain on this trip. It is pretty intimidating at times and there is a direct linkage between the intensity of the rain/wind/traffic and your fatigue levels. It can be exhausting both physically and mentally.
So, after leaving Wick for Inverness and just barely missing some torrential rain and wind on the east coast (small tornado was reported in the area where we had just driven through about 1 hour earlier) we decided to just take a day off in Inverness and visit with family and friends rather than try to cram in more sites.
Our initial plan was to visit the community of Findhorn just to the east of Nairn, Scotland. Lill and I had been there a number of times before and were really impressed with this small isolated highland community founded on the principals of responsible stewardship of the earth, music, art and cultural development, and innovation. Would have liked to go back again on this trip, but we were already pushing our luck with the weather. After a great day relaxing, visiting and hiking around town, we got all packed up once again for an early start off to Glasgow in time for Lill's flight back home. We made an all too short visit with my cousin John Murdo and Barbara in Glasgow. A wonderful couple who made sure we were well fed and watered for the next, and last leg of the journey. This pic was taken in the parking lot at the Glasgow International Airport just before Lill left for Ottawa and I carried on through England, France and Belgium.

On the road to Wick

Well, Lill and I got up bright and early on Wednesday morning, said farewell to my cousins Donald, Chriss Anna and Jonathan and headed to the Caledonia MacBrayne ferry terminal in Stornoway.
The next few paragraphs are a bit sentimental so feel free to skip past this if you are short of Kleenex, don't have an absorbent wool sleeve or lack an especially hairy arm.

Here we go - Leaving Lewis
I can't count the number of times I have been to the Isle of Lewis over the years. Dozens of times no doubt and though I love being on the island, I dread leaving. I have done it time and time again and it never get any easier, never gets less emotional. My parents, like so many other Scots, emigrated to Canada with family in tow looking for a better life. As an experienced soldier and piper, my father signed up with the Black Watch Royal Highland Regiment in Nova Scotia and or the next 20 years or so we had the good fortune to live in both Kentville and North Alton Nova Scotia as well as Oromocto New Brunswick (twice), Werl and Unna Germany, Petawawa and Ottawa Ontario.
After university, Lill and I picked up what little belongings we had and built a great life for ourselves in Canada's Northwest Territories, northern Alberta, Edmonton and finally here in Ottawa. With that much moving (25 moves before age 40) and few direct relatives anywhere in this vast land, it was understandably difficult to feel a sense of belonging to any one place. Still, Canada is such a beautiful country and we were so grateful that we were able to make our lives here and to raise our families. Still, Lewis is where the heart is and I know peace intimately when I can see and smell the moors, feel the coolness of the land and walk the shores. There is an expression in Gaelic "Is fhearr tiene beag a gharas na teine mor a loisgeas" - The little fire that warms is better than the big fire that burns. So, though we make our lives circling the big fire - the hustle and bustle of a modern city - I faithfully guard and tend the embers of that little fire inside and always will. I find it so tough to leave.
Anyway, Wednesday morning with the bike piled high, we crossed the Minch to Ullapool and once on the mainland, were hit with heavy rain and windy conditions. Decision time - do we ignore sound advice and take the northern route or do we head for the scenic route around Loch Shin. The third option (the one most sane people would choose) would take us south on good highways before turning north to Wick. But we were here to see the countryside and point to point speed was subordinate - waaay subordinate. Discretion being the better part of valour, we decided to avoid the northern route in the rain and winds and go for the more scenic route through the highlands and past some great whiskey making countryside - a happy coincidence I assure you...
The road across this part of the highlands is tricky with many miles of single track (one car at a time with lay-bys to let an on-coming vehicle pass). It makes for and interesting dance, rush forward, pull to the side, slow to a near stop, wave thanks and repeat about 100 times. All the while, you are seeing spectacular scenery around every corner with long abandoned castles, sturdy stone bridges and gently flowing river with fly fishermen casting their lucky bait. You get so engrossed in the beauty that you sometimes forget about "lay-by ho-down" and I had to stand the BMW on its front wheel a couple of times.
Stopped in to get a cup of tea and to warm up in a small town called Bonar Bridge. What a lovely little town it is. If you are ever through there, try out the Crannag Bistro - Ian Smith proprietor. Great atmosphere, terrific food and very friendly people. Their advice on single malts was bang on!
Once we went through the highlands we hit the A9 to Wick which goes up the east coast of Scotland and again, all you can say is WOW! In the distance, you can see the off-shore oil platforms of North Sea and if you expand this pic you can even see the ocean-based wind turbines used to augment the power requirements of these floating villages. The rain lifted once we hit the east coast road and we drove or quite a while with just whisps of clouds in the sky and periodic showers - just enough to refresh the windscreen. Beautiful drive!
We arrived in Wick in the early afternoon and had a police escort (story for another day) to my cousin George and Ann's place where we stayed for the night. What great hosts they were too! The next day we all went to the community of John O'Groats who claim to be the most northerly community on mainland Scotland (as if the Orkneys and Shetlands don't matter - sheesh!)
With the weather becoming unsettled, we said goodbye and headed off south to Inverness. I am certain that one day, we will be back up to the north to explore some more and will make out way up to the famous Orkneys...home of the Highland Park distillery!!!
Excellent distilleries in like the Glenmorangie in Tain and the Old Pulteney in Wick

Leaving Lewis

Well, this is the last blog posting from the Isle of Lewis and the last posting for a couple of days as Lill and I are leaving tomorrow morning on the "0h-dark-thirty" ferry to the mainland. The hospitality and generous spirit of the Hebrideans is legendary and deservedly so. We have been treated with such kindness and respect everywhere we have been on the islands. So many Lewis people have Canadian roots and friends that conversation is always engaging and interesting.

At this time of year, the landscape changes constantly. The heather is just beginning to add hues of purple and deeper shades of green to the hills and moors. The deep peaty brown streams and the grey mist that rolls through at their own pace makes the pallet complete.... (hmmmm - inner voice - deep peaty brown, rich smelling, inviting, thirst quenching.... ok, it has got to be time for a Lagavulin) So grateful to have been here!

The route we are planning to take from Ullapool to Wick is most northerly route in mainland Scotland and goes up through Thruso and John O'Groats. My sanity has been questioned (this is not a new phenomenon for me) as much of the road is single passage with lay-bys for approaching cars. (read=SLOW) The weather is closing in a bit in the north so this may not be the best plan of action. I have an alternate route planned which will take us through the Loch Shin area of the Highlands and up the east coast road to Wick. Will make a last minute decision once we hit the mainland and gauge the conditions.

So, our last day in Lewis is predicably chaotic. Lots of loose ends to tidy up, motorcycle to pack and prepare for the road and final farewell to the folks who have been so good to us here. No matter how well you prepare, it always seems to come down to a frantic last minute push and a lingering doubt that you have forgotten something REALLY important...but what??? Gets worst with age! Going to have a ceilidh at my cousin ChrisAnna and Donald's tonight so will be good to see our friends and relatives. Then off to bed for an 0430 rise and shine and off across the moor to Stornoway. Always seem to have a curious blend of emotions leaving Lewis - one of nostalgic regret mixed with the excitement of a new page turning. I am sure many of our ancestors felt the same thing as they reached for foreign shores. OK, now I'm getting too deep - time for another Lagavulin?

Ciao

D

For Charlie

I concede! After a recent trip to Scotland, Charlie told me that the weather wasn't be as bad as I described it to him. He said that there were even palm trees growing there! I said he was nuts (among some of the kinder things I said about Charlie).... but I WAS WRONG. These lovely little fellows are indeed some form of a palm.
For the record, I take back most of the nasty things I said about Charlie, his primative skills, his anachronistic abilities with obsolete engineering equipment, his relationship with barnyard animals, and his long-suffering beliefs in politics/religion/bureaucracy/taxation/poetry/education/the health system/computers/the internet/economics/farming and human reproduction. Whew!

Neat Stuff

Self portrait ;=)

A couple of years ago, Stornoway weathered a sever storm with winds gusting up to 100 mph for 7 hours straight. As we have seen in Canada in recent years, the forests and parks take a pounding and large old growth trees are up-rooted or battered beyond salvage.

In Stornoway, local artists carved masks and designs on some of the stumps around the Lews Castle Grounds.

They have also build small water-wheel powered generator station and a small saw mill to make use of what ever wood they can get.
I saw this monster at the Lighthouse at the Butt of Lewis the other day. There is enough room in the front for a family to sit comfortably and the back unit (the yellow box with the door open) is the size of a small apartment. Just incase you were wondering, fuel prices are more than double the prices in Canada. Sheeesh...

This classic 1600cc Wolsey is owned by local Lewis artist Ivor MacKay (http://www.im-hebrideanart.co.uk/index.php). The car is a beauty!

The one below is a Rover 90 1950's vintage)

3 wheeler

This is the MacGilliavary Clan monument and information center in south Harris

This building recently won an international award for innovation for incorporating traditional concepts in to a modern fully-functioning building.

Beautiful Church of Scotland in Manish in the South of Harris

Another example of innovative design combining local materials with more Scandanavian design. Tip of the hat to the Viking invaders of yesteryear I guess!

Lewis Highland Games

Lill and I went to the Lewis Highland Games in Tong yesterday and it was quite a medly of sights and sounds. There was something for everyone from heavy athletic events to solo and band piping competitions, crafts for sale, classic cars and antique farm equipment.

This old Lister is an example of some of the restoration work that has been bringing life to long abandoned farm machinery that was once a mainstay of these agricultural areas of Scotland. It goes back to the 1940's and started life as a multi-purpose engine running water pumps and thrashing machines.
I loved this game! the kid on the right would hold a tweed "rat" by the tail and drop it down the pvc pipe. The other youngster on the left has a stick and has to try to hit the rat as it falls through the pipe. They paid a couple of pennies for 3 attempts with the funds going to charity. Notice the stick in the hand of the young fellow on the left and the swinging radius intersecting with the groin area of the fellow on the right. Predictable outcome??? Yup!!!

Roads - Lewis and Harris

Have been having some great driving in the past week through the beautiful islands of Lewis and Harris. The roads twist and turn and disappear around inviting corners. You are constantly suprised by the colours and the contrasts of the land and seascapes. There is just no telling what will see next. At one moment you are driving along rugged wind-swept hill country where the roads have no shoulders and the rock face drops straight down to the sea lochs below.

Moments later, you are approaching beautiful white sandy beaches that are packed so hard that aircraft land on them. Scheduled aircraft! Or you come upon a sheltered bay with sailboats anchored safely from the fickle sea.

I am going to be very sorry to leave this place. There is a beauty here that is difficult to put into words and photos only tease the imagination.

My Riding Partner finally gets here!

Poor Lill. After a 28 hour delay by Zoom Airlines, she finally arrived in Stornoway via Glasgow. She looked pretty tired from the long frustrating journey, but once she got on the bike and the realization that she was finally in the Hebrides, her spirits really picked up. Now the fun part of the journey can begin.

This morning, we headed out to the lighthouse at Port Mholair and had an unbelievable view of the Minch both northward and southward from Stornoway with the hills and mountains of the mainland visible as distant blue shadows on the horizon. Cameras (well...mine at least) simply don't do it justice. You just have to get over here to see the beauty of the place.

My cousin has been trying to teach Lill to drive the "Fergie" and she took to it like a duck to water. The pictures below are of Lill driving the tractor down the road in Barvas on the west side of the island where my cousin, Jonathan and his Dad Donald are helping set up and coordinate events for the agricultural fair coming up in 2 weeks.

Hebridean Celtic Festival and a visit to the Island of Tarransay

Just a bit of a preamble. Promise it will be short and comparitively painless.

The Hebrides are a chain of beautiful islands off the north west coast of Scotland. They include the larger islands of Lewis, Harris, the Uists, Benbecula and Barra. In addition, there are clusters of smaller islands like The Shiants, The Flannels, St Kilda and dozens smaller islands placed ramdomly by the hands of antient retreating glaciers.

The people of the islands have deep, proud roots going back well before the Viking invasions. They have been the excellent, if somewhat humble stewarts of the culture and history that graces this remote corner of Scotland. The traditions of music, song, storytelling, art overlap and intertwine with myths and mystery like a well woven tweed.

Every year they have the Gaelic Mod and the Hebridean Celtic Festival attracting some of the best young talent and established artists to Stornoway and WOW - what a ceileidh!

Anyway, I was planning to go the the Saturday night celebration at An Lanntair (http://www.lanntair.com/) to hear a Celtic Rock group called Skerryvore perform.(http://www.skerryvore.bebo.com/). My cousins asked if I would like to go to an island off the Harris coast called Taransay where they were setting up camping facilities for a week long traditional fiddling school. The students spend every waking hour surrounded by music and instruction on one of the most picturesque islands in Scotland. Should be back before tea. Well, I wouldn't miss a trip to Harris for anything so I eagerly joined in.

When we got things loaded and ready for the drive to Harris, one of the fellows said "Would you like to go to Taransay by boat?" You bet I would!!! So I joined Willie MacRea on this beautiful 10 passenger RIB (Rigid Inflatable) Zodiac and headed from Stornoway down the Minch past the Shiants, around the Sound of Harris and into the North Atlantic. The water was uncharacteristically calm and we were doing about 30 kts the whole way there. The boat is powered by 2 4.2l diesels and just flys! Just so I would feel at home, the rain came down in two short bursts as we crossed the south of Harris and entered onto the soft rolling Atlantic waves on the west side of the island.

Willie himself was a real character. He is one of the hardest working guys you are likely to meet. He is a "bricky" who also volunteers with the Stornoway Coast Guard. These are tough waters, particularly in winter and anyone who puts life and limb at risk to rescue others has my respect. He also runs the RIB for tanker ships who use Stornoway Airport for shift changes etc. They anchor in the deep waters of the Minch and the RIB goes out to bring fresh crews out and existing crews back to land.
Anyway, we had an excellent trip down and around Harris and helped with the setup at the Fiddle camp, but we didn't make it home until around 2130 hrs. Still time to hit the HebCeltFest, but I was covered in mud and, being on a motorcycle trip, had very little spare clothing to change into for the festival.
Not to worry, says I to meself... my cousin Alistair Calum and I are about the same size. He is working off-shore right now but I'll ask his wife Morag for a loan of a pair of his jeans and a shirt and off the the festival.
However, three coincidental events converged at just about the same time. First, I had forgotten that I have lost a bunch of weight and now AC's trousers are too big for me. Second, in the rush to get to the ceileidh, I forgot to ask for a belt. Third, Skerryvore plays an outstanding 20 minute long Strip the Willow. The audience was very lively, "spirited" and participative. I had quite a challenge trying to dance to the wildest Strip the Willow I had ever been in while holding up my trews. What a great time!

Wanta see a neat bus?

Fully restored 1950 Leyland used to take tourists from Tarbert, Harris to the Island of Scalpay.