N Uist - Berneray - S Harris

The huge winds that had shaken the van had abated a little by morning. We had showers, breakfasted and were finally able to lift the roof, though the northerly winds made it quite cold. We filled up with water, emptied the loo and drove the few yards to the RSPB site next door. 

We set off on a walk around the great horseshoe beach of white sand, in a fierce wind of between F6 and F8. As we passed a rusting old tractor, Lesley spotted a bird trapped in the cab. It was a starling, very distressed, throwing itself at the windows. With some effort, we wrenched open a rusted door and after a few minutes it flew to safety. Good deed for the day, done. 

At first there was little other birdlife to see but herring gulls on the shore, but as time went on we spotted more waders on the shoreline, around rock pools. It turned into an hour of walking on machair, in drizzly gales, and then on the beach, peering through our binos at some wonderful birds.

Here is a list of what we saw:

Curlew

Common ringed plover

Bar tailed godwit

Redshanks

Meadow pipit

Ruddy turnstone

Oystercatcher.

Back at the van, we were tired, windblown and happy. Drove to a museum on the east side of the island to eat our homemade sandwiches with a rocky foreshore view, and ventured in to an arts installation of polished gneiss boulders, the oldest rock on the planet. Very beautiful striated rocks, but on sale for £1000 plus. Tea and shared raspberry cake at the cafe, and exhibition of one man's CalMac memorabilia collection, and off we went towards the next small ferry port for the leg to Harris. Along the way, we stopped to take a photo of one of the hundreds of lochans, small lakes of bitter blue water that sparkle in the midst of land throughout these islands.

On to the ferry at Berneray, all on time. Sharp showers on board. Smooth green hills on the horizon beyond dark blue seas capped with white foam. A trio of white gannets sailing low to the water. Some idiot who hadn't disabled his car alarm caused an earsplitting noise for all of us. The ferry zigzaged along a channel through the rocks.

The van windscreen - in fact the whole front of our precious van was covered in gallons of sea spray through the windy voyage- not good for metalwork. 

The short trip from the ferry port on West Harris to our campsite was full of jawdropping vistas of seething blue seas and impressive hills. This is bigger, more dramatic country on a larger scale than the southern islands. 

We let ourselves in to the campsite through a padlocked gate. We have an amazing view of sea, hills and cloud. The roof is up and it feels more sheltered here. Walked up to the Talla Na Mara community and culture centre with a prospect of dinner in the cafe according to their website ... only to find the beautiful building is closed Sat and Sun! Yet both campsites are full. A triumph of form over function. N's turn to cook! Also the lovely 24/7 facilities block has no light to see the door code, and no light to show the path. Dear me. Ruined the expensive building for a ha'porth of motion detecting light bulb.