23 October 2007

September

/Octoberrrrrrrrrrrr

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Tuesday 23 October 2007--Another dismal day. We watch the plane bound for Benbecula taking off from the Cockle Strand, the beach that serves as the airport runway. Last night we dined on cockles picked off the same sands. A short way up the road stands the ruin of Cille Bharra, a chapel in whose grounds the chiefs of clan MacNeil were buried. Compton Mackenzie, author of Whisky Galore, chose it for his final resting place, as well. A small museum houses some grave slabs and the replica of an impressive Norse cross slab, cross carved on the front and runes on the back. The explanatory sign notes that the original was "abducted" to the museum in Edinburgh 120 years ago. Seems the locals would like to have it back.

We stop at the airport again and watch the returning flight from Benbecula emerge from the mist. Then we complete the circuit of Barra's ring road. Back near Castlebay, a spur road leads to the causeway linking to Vatersay, an island of two parts linked by a stretch of dune. We see what there is to see: a modest monument to the 350 lost of 450 aboard the Annie Jane, an emigrant ship bound from Liverpool to Quebec, wrecked offshore in 1853, their mass graves lost somewhere in the dunes; the peculiar tourist attraction of a scattering of WWII-vintage airplane wreckage, which probably wouldn't be difficult to clean up, if anyone cared to; and the remains of a moderately interesting broch on a hilltop. Back across the causeway, up the side of a hill, is another one of the many newly-available ancient sites in the Western Isles, this one centering on what's left of a seven-spoked wheelhouse. All of these things would have seemed infinitely more interesting in sunshine, I think.

Back in Castlebay, there is, at last, an unexpectedly pleasant break: Kisimul Castle, sitting on its little islet in the bay, is open. The last I knew, it closed in mid-September, and we were not expecting to be able to visit. We signal the ferryman and make the short crossing, finding a couple of very bored staff people on duty. It seems we are the first visitors in a couple of days. (I expect the early closing date will be back in effect soon.) The castle was restored in the 1950s by the clan MacNeil, and the current chief has an office there. The historical accuracy of some of the restoration is a bit suspect, but no matter. It's an interesting wee castle.

We are in the Craigard for pints at 4:00pm, and dine there, as well. It's pretty quiet again, but we have a nice blether with the landlord. He's an incomer, English, of course--that seems to be de rigueur in this part of the world. I ask if he's encountered any resentment from the locals, and he reports quite to the contrary. When his household items arrived on the ferry after he bought the place, a number of men turned up unbidden, offering to help haul it up to the hotel. That sounds like Barra to me, and I'm sorry we haven't been able to interact more with the locals during our short visit here.

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