The Hebridean Way – Stage 9 & 10: Lewis
Onto Lewis
After a comfortable night at the hostel and a scrambled egg on toast breakfast, I was feeling revived, clean and ready to go. So I was soon on my way, following the main road above the loch and crossing the border into Lewis.
Although geographically a single landmass, Lewis and Harris are often treated as separate islands due to their distinct landscapes and historical and administrative divisions. Harris to the south is more mountainous, while Lewis, the northern part, is characterised by low-lying, flatter land. This physical separation, coupled with historical governance by different clans and regions, contributes to the perception of two separate islands.
Lewis is larger, with the main town of Stornoway acting as the administrative and cultural centre of the Outer Hebrides. It has a rich history of Norse and Gaelic influence, centuries of crofting tradition, and some of the most iconic archaeological sites in Scotland, such as the Callanish Standing Stones — though sadly not on the Hebridean Way route itself.
I followed the road through cuttings of Lewisian Gneiss, with views out over Seaforth Loch where heavy clouds threathened rain.
Forests, Pylons and Fellow Hikers
The route soon had me heading uphill on a pleasant stony path into the large Aline Community Woodland. This was originally a commercial plantation of Sitka spruce and lodgepole pine, but these were decimated by the Pine Beauty Moth. There are still lots of dead, skeletal, trees giving the forest a somewhat sad appearance. Native trees are now being planted, but much of the original woodland persists. As well as the trees, there were some temporary stores of hardware for what looked like a large civil engineering project. As far as I could tell, they were replacing the overhead electricity cables and the pylons on which they were suspended.
Over the course of the next two days, I came across several small work-sites where hi-vis-clad workers were battling through the bog to carry out this no doubt essential work.
Over the top of the hill, I came across yet another German girl who was hiking the Hebridean Way. She was just packing up her tent after a night camping on what looked like a fairly sketchy campsite in amongst some midge-ridden bog. She was clad head to foot and had a midge-net on but was still complaining of midges, mites and ticks.
I said a quick hello and continued on my way, down the hill alongside a lovely stream where peat-stained water tumbled over the rocks as the stream meandered between dark peaty banks.
Next was a long stretch of raised boardwalk — easy walking, but not so for my poles, which were all too easy to get stuck between the boards. After this, the path merged onto a stretch of old tarmac road alongside the new two-lane road. Again, it made for easy walking, but if I stopped, the midges were abundant.
I did finally find a breezy rock to sit on where I could take a rest, take off my shoes and chill for a bit, unbothered by the midges.
Bogs, Butts and Birds
As I rested, the German girl I’d seen earlier approached and somewhat sheepishly said, “You couldn’t do me a huge favour, could you?” I answered somewhat positively without committing to too much, so she continued: “Could you check my back for ticks?”
Trouble was, I couldn’t quite be sure if she had said ‘back’ or ‘butt’. I made a spur of the moment decision — she was attractive enough and looked friendly, so why not — whichever it may be.
She then said, “Thanks, I know it’s an awful lot to ask of a complete stranger that I’ve never met before but….”
I thought to myself maybe she did say ‘butt’, as it’s not that much to ask to check her back. She then bent over and I wondered what was about to happen. She reached backwards, grabbed her top and pulled it up over her head, revealing her back. Aha — she did say ‘back’ after all. Her back was tick-free, which was a relief, and I didn’t have any explaining to do to Anna. All was good.
The rest of the morning saw me walking through boggy ground across the interior of Lewis. It’s a wide open, relatively flat landscape with endless peat bogs dotted with lochs. It wasn’t too difficult, but it wasn’t necessarily fast either.
The German girl and I leapfrogged each other a couple of times as we stopped for breaks, and then she passed me when I stopped on a lovely grassy area overlooking Loch Strandavat for my gourmet lunch of cheesy Pepperami wraps. She was complaining about the endless bog and was still worried about ticks.
At the end of the loch the route headed back inland again around Loch Cuthaig. Here, the German girl decided to head to the road and take a shortcut to Balallan rather than face a few more miles of bog.
I, of course, followed the official route out onto the bog once more and was treated to sightings of two more golden eagles. It did get quite boggy after that for a while, and there were no route markers and not much of a path to follow at some points.
I did, however, eventually emerge back out onto the road at Balallan — where the café that I thought wouldn’t be open until Thursday was indeed open. It was an honesty box system with a hot water urn, various teas and coffees and some cakes and biscuits on offer. Not quite deleicous home-baked cakes but welcome nonetheless.
Café Stop
That was something of a bonus, and I couldn’t resist some tea and cake. As I went in, another guy (who I later discovered to be called Steve) was just leaving.
The German girl was also here — or at least her kit was. She was off making use of the other facilities, which included a museum, a shop, toilets, showers and even a launderette — very useful.
I didn’t make full use of them, but did stick around for two cups of tea and a piece of cake. I also helped the German girl inspect her tent — it was indeed full of some sort of beastie, but I couldn’t be sure if they were mites or ticks. There were hundreds of them, though, so she decided she was no longer camping and instead made the decision to end her hike here and catch the bus into Stornoway.
I was soon on my way once again. After a stint along the road, where I crossed the Laxay River I could just about make out Steve up ahead of me. I’d forgotten to fill up my water bottle at the café, but this didn’t look too tempting either, I’m sure it would have been fine but I decided to wait for something that looked a little fresher.
I then headed off, following the trail up a somewhat pointless track over a hill. From the top, I could see that Steve had decided to skip this section and was walking along the road. I followed the route diligently, back to the road and then up to the little village of Laxay.
Achmore Bog and a Night with the Beasts
Here the route headed inland once again and steeply uphill for a while. I soon caught Steve, had a quick chat but left him behind as I was moving much quicker than he was. I was also aware of the need to find a camp spot soon, so I secretly wanted to be first on the trail so that someone else didn’t get the best spot before I did!
After some climbing and some bog-hopping, I had a long slog across the featureless Achmore Bog. I filled up my water bottles at a small stream before this so that I’d have water if I came across a dry campsite — but there was nowhere to camp here. It was very wet, there were no grassy dry patches, and very little in the way of shelter.
It was getting a bit later in the day than I’d usually finish, so I phoned Anna as I walked to let her know I was OK. It was nice to have a chat and some company as I walked — maybe I should do that more often. Although I was missing her afterwards, as she had to rush off and I was once again all alone.
Eventually, just as I came into the village of Achmore, I found a nice flat area of shorter grass. It actually looked as though it had been compressed a little by a tent before. It overlooked Loch Achmore and even had a little stile next to it that could be used as a seat or table.
I started setting up my tent only to discover that it was a little too sheltered. I take back everything I’ve said about the midges and other bugs before — the previous days had been practically midge-free in comparison to this. All of a sudden, there was an infestation of flying ants. These weren’t actually too bad as they didn’t seem to bite, but for each ant there must have been three million midges, and they are voracious little things that soon had me fully covered up and either cowering inside my tent or sat down by the loch where there was some breeze.
A little later on, Steve made it through the bog and set up his tent a few hundred yards away in what turned out to be a much breezier, relatively midge-free spot.
I ate by the loch and, after some campsite admin, settled down for the night.
I think it rained overnight — although it could have been bugs landing on the tent for all I know — and I did drift off to sleep now and then. However, I was up early, dried off my tent as best I could, packed up, and set off on my way.
Day 10 – To Stornoway
This would be my last day on the official Hebridean Way. From here it was only 9.5 miles to Stornoway and it all followed a somewhat dull road. I set off early in the hope of getting there in time for a nice cooked breakfast at the café at the end of the trail and then continuing on to extend the official trail up to the Butt of Lewis.
I was a few days ahead of schedule by now, so had plenty of time to make it to the end of the island and back before my flight home on Sunday. My plan was therefore to get to New Tolsta, which was another 14 miles beyond Stornoway today. It would make for a 24-mile day, but it would all be easy going on tarmac so should be quite quick.
The long road from Achmore to Stornoway kind of finished me off though. It was boring for a start, the constant pounding hurt my feet a little, and my piriformis/sciatica was really sore today as well.
There was a little bit of interest through the grounds of Lews Castle once in Stornoway itself, but by the time I’d completed the 9.5 miles to the end of the trail, I wasn’t really looking forward to another 14 of the same afterwards. Had it been along more interesting, varied trail I might have considered it, but I didn’t really fancy another 14 miles of road walking today.
Decision Time
I sat in the café where I had a very nice Full Scottish with some delicious Stornoway black pudding and contemplated my options:
- Continue on along the road to New Tolsta and camp there as originally intended.
- Spend the night in a B&B or hostel in Stornoway and continue on tomorrow.
- See if I could head home early and not do the extra bits — it would be nice to see Anna and have some days to unpack and recover at home after all.
I messaged Anna and she seemed keen to have me home as well, so it was decided. I’d walk to the hostel that I had booked for Saturday night, see if my flight bag had arrived there and if it had, we’d rearrange flights and trains to see if I could get home earlier than intended. I’d hopefully be able to stay there tonight as well.
I left the café behind and started walking through the streets of Stornoway. I was immediately glad of this decision — sitting in the café had seized things up somewhat and I was now in quite a bit of pain, hobbling rather than walking. It was quite a task to make it the 1.5 miles to the hostel, so 14 more miles would have been silly.
My feet however were in great shape considering they been soaking wet and submerged in bog for the past 10 days!
Haha, you knew you couldn’t get away with a recount of a long-distance walk without a photo of my feet!!!
Laxdale Campsite and Scottish Conversations
My bag was there, they had a room for me, and the staff were really helpful and friendly. I settled in, had a shower, set up my tent so that it could dry out, and then just chilled for the afternoon. The Laxdale Campsite is lovely — well worth a stop if you need somewhere to stay for the night.
I met an old Scottish fisherman who was on his annual two-week holiday to Lewis. He was, of course, wearing a kilt, had a big bushy beard and spoke with a strong Scottish accent, using plenty of unfamiliar Scottish words too — most of which were fairly self-explanatory. He was drinking a pint of Guinness and had a glass of whisky with him as he puffed on his pipe to keep the midges at bay. It wouldn’t have surprised me if, alongside his fly-fishing kit, he also had a set of bagpipes.
He was a nice guy though, so we sat there chatting for a while. I’m not sure what he thought of me in my flip-flops, with painted toenails and the lightest shorts you’ve ever seen! I only mention them because they really are quite svelte — at just 24 grams there’s really nothing to them. It was the first time I’d worn them and I did have to keep checking to make sure they hadn’t blown away!
The Hebridean Way
So, that was the Hebridean Way completed. I’d walked every last centimetre of it. I’d gone from Vatersay through Barra, Eriskay, South Uist, Benbecula, Grimsay, North Uist, Berneray, Harris and Lewis. I’d crossed quite a few causeways, taken two ferries, flown into the sands of Barra, met numerous Germans and a few British people too. I’d bathed in rivers, paddled in the sea, crossed stepping stones to Iron Age forts, summited various hills and negotiated more bog than is sensible.
The Uists, Benbecula and Berneray are still my favourite islands — not just in the Outer Hebrides, but in the world. Harris and Lewis could be described as bog-ridden, midge-infested hell-holes, but they aren’t without their charms. And as usual, the landscape and the people of the Outer Hebrides lived up to the hype — I love it there.
Where shall I go next?
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Sounds a good trip all in all.
Feet looking better than usual. I’d even go as far as saying normal !
Not sure if you were pleased or disappointed she said back ?
I’m sure you’ll think of some other adventure.
Glad you’re finished and are home safe and sound x
Ps The Scottish fisherman will probably being telling his tale about a strange Englishman with blue nail varnish wearing ladies shorts and flip-flops to who ever will listen, by the sounds of it lots of German folk .
Fabulous trip.
When we cycled the Hebridean Way in May last year, we were lucky(?) that the wind and wet weather meant that we didn’t suffer from midges. ?
Haha – it tends to be like that in the Outer Hebrides. One day you are complaining about the wind and rain, the next the midges get you and you wish for nothing more than wind and rain!!! 🙂