It was always the plan that today, we would catch up on household chores. However, our early arrival at the campsite yesterday afternoon, allowed us to get a head start on the work. A wash and dry went through the campsite washing machine; the waste-water tank emptied, and the freshwater tank refilled. We swept away the dust and dirt from a week’s living; and the cupboards, and work surfaces, given a scrub down.
This morning, the wind driven rain gave no urgency to our day. A took the opportunity to use the intermittent Wi-Fi signal to look out a site for our last night of the trip – so we would be in easy striking distance of the Stornoway / Ullapool Ferry. The Wi-Fi signal seemed to blow in and out with the vagaries of the wind itself.
After a Full Scottish Breakfast complete with square sausage, we drove to a Raptor Viewpoint on the A867. The viewpoint birdwatching felt more like a sea-watch as we only saw three species of gull, a grey heron and greylag goose flypast, along with a dark phase Arctic Skua. Reminding us that you are never far from the sea, on the Scottish Isles.
It is bitterly cold for mid-May, and I found myself wearing every layer of clothing I have brought with me, as we walked uphill to the Chambered Cairn of Barpa Langass. Sadly, a recent roof collapse had sealed the inside of the cairn from public view. Although we were more than relieved that the collapse had at least occurred before our venturing inside the chamber.
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| Barpa Langass, Chambered Cairn |
At the stone circle of Sornath Coir Fhinn a tufted duck flew through, and cuckoo, marsh tit and robin called from the small woodland. A male hen harrier swept down onto the hillside and then rose up carrying quarry, and away over the moor.
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| Sornath Coir Fhinn stone circle |
Rain was falling hard and a second stop at the Raptor Viewpoint, ended quickly, and we headed back to Moorcroft Campsite.
At 7pm the rain finally stopped, and campers emerged from the shelter of the motorhomes and vans. The campsite buzzed, as people exchanged greetings and comments about how the last three days of poor weather has affected their travels and moods. We as ever are simply glad to be here, and the weather is part of that sun or rain. Holed up in a van in harsh weather is as much a novelty for us, and all part of the experience.
In the camp kitchen, a younger man travelling alone complains to all present that he does not understand “safari birding” – people travelling to see the red-necked phalaropes and eagles – and just like a particular “type” of birder he completely fails to recognise the irony in his words; himself an Englishmen touring the birds of the Outer Hebrides. I am still laughing to myself as I return to the van.
The bottle of Barra Gin is opened, its sweet and salty notes, ably described by A “as like drinking in the sea air.” A short-eared owl is hunting across the moorland, surrounding the campsite.
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