Last Updated on March 24, 2020 by PowersToTravel
The year was 2002. Work had been terribly stressful and one Saturday in the beginning of August I sat in the local breakfast café and said forlornly to a neighbor, “I wish I could just leave it all and see the Scottish heather. I’ve never seen the heather.” Until that year I had taken one yearly vacation, in June. I had never considered two vacations.
“Go,” said my neighbor. “Call your parents. I’m sure they would go with you. Just Go.”
And so I did. I called my parents, convinced my father to come, informed the powers that be at work that I was “outta here.” Actually, I explained quite professionally that my presence was not critical, and that my vacation was.
The end of September found us in a petrol station just north of Tarbert, on the Isle of Harris. We went inside to pay for our purchase, and naturally chatted with the attendant. Friendliness is one of the most endearing features of Scotland.
“Is this your first visit to Harris?” asked the young cashier.
“Oh, no,” we answered. “We were here once before.”
“And you came back?” she responded in amazement.
North Harris is mountainous, and the eastern portion is extraordinarily rocky and rather barren, however, the western coast is breathtaking. Beach after beach unfurls down the seacoast, flanked by high hills, and framed by mountains. Azure blue water, expansive sands and glorious clouds enfold the viewer.
A narrow single-track road winds down the coast. Along the path are no car parks, no gift shops, no pubs. The driver must dodge the few cars which are pulled up onto the verge, and stop to avoid the flocks of sheep from consuming his vehicle as the sheep dog drives them down the road.
He must pull over into a “Passing Place” when on-coming cars approach. There are a few B&Bs and a few self-catering cottages. In the salt grass and wildflowers of the machair along the dunes lie Highland Cows, their shaggy heads gently bobbing as they lunch on the salty grass.
The village names are Norse: Seilebost, Horgabost, Noisabost – memories of the times when the Norseman controlled the isles for hundreds of years. The addresses are simple: 5 Seilebost, 11 Seilebost…
No, this isn’t our first visit to Harris. How can we not help but keep coming back?
