Gaelic Ring: Fort William to Mallaig, Skye, North Uist, Berneray,
Harris, Lewis and Ullapool
by Brian Wilson

By the time you reach Fort William, the starting point for our journey, you are certain to have travelled through some wild and inhospitable terrain. It is not difficult, amidst the grandeur, to imagine that in times past this must have been rebel territory with plenty opportunities for the native population to challenge the stamp of legal authority. And that is exactly the reason for Fort William having been established and for the most un-Gaelic of names that it bears. Actually, you will not often hear Highlanders giving the town its full name.It is, in common parlance, ‘the Fort’ which is the literal equivalent of its Gaelic name, An Gearastan. But very unusually in this part of the world, the English name pre-dated the Gaelic one. Fort William was named after King William of Orange in 1690. The original military encampment was at Inverlochy,a few miles outside the present-day town. Over the following century, which embraced two unsuccessful Jacobite rebellions, Fort William became a crucial base in the efforts of the British authorities to suppress those Clans who were committed to the Jacobite cause and the overthrow of the Hanoverian monarchy. Lochaber – the wider district around Fort William – suffered terrible repression following the failure of the 1745 uprising. It was this purge of everything in the Highlands that smacked of dissidence – notably the language and culture of the Gael – that speeded the long process of transformation to a more anglicised society.

That transition is reflected today in Fort William. It is a cosmopolitan tourism centre yet it still retains some aspects of Highland identity. Shinty – the Highland cousin to Ireland’s hurling – is the favoured local sport. Gaelic is still spoken by around ten per cent of the population of Fort William and its hinterland, though many of them are people from the islands of the west who have drifted towards one of the major growth points of the region. The music and song of the Gael are still very much alive. Lying in the shadow of Ben Nevis – the highest mountain in the United Kingdom – Fort William is a centre for climbing and other outdoor pursuits. The same steep-sided mountains made it the ideal home for an aluminium smelter, driven by its own supply of hydro-electricity. Fort William is thus one of the few towns in the Highlands which has long experience of heavy industry. There is also a distillery, located just as you are heading north out of the Fort and looking for the  sharp left turn that takes you in the direction of Mallaig and the islands of the west.

But first there is a dazzling drive through this hinterland of Lochaber. Until recently, this was a mainly single-track road that even the most  experienced drivers could find daunting – especially when fish lorries en route from Mallaig to the markets of the south were hurtling along in the other direction! Now, though the road has improved beyond recognition, it is still worth taking plenty of time to enjoy the breathtaking scenery,
the historical landmarks and the attractive villages which accompany this part of the journey.

Stop at Glenfinnan and take in the memorial which marks the spot at which Bonnie Prince Charlie – Charles Edward Stuart – raised his standard, claimed the British throne for his father and rallied the clans for the ill-fated Jacobite rebellion of 1745. Eight months later, after Culloden, he was conveyed from this same place to exile in France. As many Highland Clans were opposed to the Jacobites as supported them. This part of the Highlands had remained true to the old religion – Catholicism – while most of Scotland succumbed to the Protestantism of the 16th century Reformation. So it was a natural area for the Jacobites to look for support.

But Glenfinnan is also notable for another structure – the stunning railway viaduct which carries the West Highland Line. More than 1200 feet long and made up of 21 arches, it was built by the construction firm of Robert MacAlpine around the turn of the last century.  A nearby cemetery contains some of the Irish navvies – ‘MacAlpine’s Fusiliers’ – who worked and died while building the Line in primitive conditions. That was grim reality – but the viaduct will also look familiar to  devotees of the Harry Potter movies in which it featured strongly as a backdrop to the Hogwart’s Express!

This road is bordered by a string of attractive villages – Lochailort, Arisaig, Morar and then the busy port of Mallaig, from which the Caledonian MacBrayne ferry sails regularly to Armadale on the Isle of Skye. For more adventurous spirits, there are also smaller ferries which serve the islands of Eigg, Rum, Muck and Canna – each of which has a rich identity. Eigg, after decades of neglect by absentee landowners, became the home to one of the most high-profile community buy-outs in recent years. Rum and Canna are now both owned by the National Trust for Scotland and have handfuls of
full-time residents. But most of you will head straight for Skye. This route is the romantic alternative to the bridge which, further up the coast, links Kyle of Lochalsh and Kyleakin. The reward is that the ferry takes the visitor straight into the ‘Garden of Skye’ – the Sleat peninsula which you might otherwise miss. Here you must stop to visit one of the most remarkable educational institutions in the British Isles – Sabhal Mòr Òstaig, Scotland’s Gaelic college which provides degree-level education through the medium of the language. Founded in an old steading little more than 30 years ago, Sabhal Mòr Òstaig has developed into one of the most attractive campuses in the country, set within an unrivalled environment.

Sabhal Mòr Òstaig, and the presence of a student population, has helped to create a very different atmosphere from most of the West Highlands and Islands. There is a lot of Gaelic around and you can be pretty sure of finding a good ceilidh in one of the local halls or hotels. But Sleat has many other attributes including several unusually excellent hotels. Traditionally, this was MacDonald territory and that history is embedded in the Clan Donald Centre, just a few miles from the ferry terminal at Armadale.
This project – which includes beautifully maintained gardens – was largely funded by an American, Ellice MacDonald of Delaware, whose grandfather was from Glencoe.

When Sleat’s many attractions have been exhausted, you turn left  and head towards Broadford. This is home to the West Highland Free Press of which I was founding editor in the early 1970s and which still remains true to the motto that we borrowed from the old Highland Land League:

“An Tir, An Canan ‘sna Daoine
The Land, the Language and the People.”

The paper circulates mainly in Skye, the neighbouring mainland and the Outer Isles and will keep visitors as well as locals abreast of a news agenda which is distinctly different from the one that prevails in most of the country!

Issues related to the land – how it is owned, occupied and used – are central to the history and present day existence of all these communities. The dominant form of tenure is called crofting which was enshrined in law during the 1880s in order to give people security over their smallholdings, against the threat of eviction by landlords. By the time this legislation was won, much of the Gaelic-speaking population had been dispersed to the four corners of the globe and most of the land was under sheep and deer. The curious distribution of population that exists down the present day – with small villages huddled close to the coastal fringes – is a direct legacy of that dark era.

Although the Highlands never had the violence against landowners that characterised Ireland in the same period, there was indeed a Highland Land War and troops were deployed on numerous occasions in the islands during the latter stages of the 19th century. As you approach Portree, the main town on Skye, you will pass on your right a road-sign pointing to Braes and that area of the island was at the centre of one of the seminal events in forcing the Government’s hands over crofting legislation. In 1882, the people of Braes rose up against the landowner, Lord Macdonald, when he sought to remove them from the grazings of Ben Lee. Troops were dispatched to the island to quell the insurrection and similar resistance was sparked off throughout the Highlands and Islands.

Even before you reach Braes, you will have passed the Caledonian MacBrayne ferry terminal at Sconser from which it is more than worthwhile to take a detour to the fabulous island of Raasay. Mentioning to a friend who lives there that I was just back from New York, he provided me with the fascinating fact that Manhattan is smaller than Raasay – with its population of 150! But though the population is tiny, this too is an island steeped in history and Gaelic folklore. It is fronted by Raasay House, which has recently come into community ownership after a chequered history.

Thirty years ago, Raasay was constantly in the news because of the eccentric activities of an absentee proprietor who was a retired doctor living in Cooden, Sussex. For reasons that defied understanding, he bought all the major properties on the island and then allowed them to fall into utter disrepair. Although he very rarely visited the island, he succeeded for years in obstructing the construction of a ferry terminal. The story of Dr Green and Raasay became a latter-day cause célèbre in the whole land debate, illustrating the power that a single individual could hold over a whole fragile community.

Raasay was the birth-place of Sorley MacLean, the greatest Gaelic poet of the 20th century and held by many – including Seumas Heaney, who translated his great work Hallaig – to stand in the first rank of European poets of his generation. Sorley was a schoolteacher by profession and spent many years as a much-loved headmaster of Plockton High School, on the mainland, before retiring to Braes – within sight of his beloved Raasay. He died in 1996 but is perhaps more widely read now than he ever was in his lifetime; not least because the Sorley MacLean Trust has established a website at www.somhairlemacgilleain.org/English If you are fortunate enough to wake up on Skye with a beautiful partner on a balmy summer’s morning, that would be a good moment to contemplate Sorley’s imagery in Camhanaich/Dawn:

“You were dawn on the Cuillin
and benign day on the Clarach,
the sun on his elbow in the golden stream
and the white rose that breaks the horizon.
Glitter of sails on a sunlit firth
blue of the sea and the aureate sky,
the young morning in your head of hair
and in your lovely cheeks.”

Portree has grown into a fair-sized town over the past 30-odd years since I first knew it. By this time you might have noticed that a fair proportion of the road signs that have guided you on your journey are bilingual and this is now something that is taken for granted in any sensible society, respectful of its dual cultural identity. But it wasn’t always so. The first Gaelic signs in Skye, which are at the entrance to Portree, were bitterly contested by the local authority – then Inverness County Council – when they were argued for in the early 1970s by Iain Noble, a very unusual local landowner who had learned Gaelic and made it a condition of selling the land for road improvements that the signs erected on it would be bilingual. Eventually, he won the day and a significant breakthrough, from which much else flowed, was achieved. Amidst the bustle of Portree, look out for some interesting plaques on the walls of local hotels and public buildings. One of them, at the Rosedale Hotel, commemorates Màiri Mhòr nan Òran – the bard – and another, of particular interest to Irish visitors, recalls the part played by Michael Davitt – founder of the Irish Land League – in supporting the crofters’ movement of the late 19th century. Indeed, the staunchly Presbyterian crofters of Skye asked Davitt, a Catholic and republican, to be their Parliamentary candidate after he had addressed a great rally from the balcony of the Portree Hotel in Somerled Square!

Time now to head for the ferry at Uig and, from long experience, my strong advice is to leave plenty time for this stretch of the journey. This can be a very long 15 miles on a busy summer’s day. And then when you get to Uig, with those magnificent views of the bay beneath, beware of an optical illusion. Somehow or other, the Caledonian MacBrayne ferry always looks as if it is on the verge of departing and there is a temptation to speed down into the village, out of concern that you have made a mistake about the ferry time. Believe me, you haven’t – so enjoy the view! This is my favourite of all the west coast ferry journeys. Not too short and not too long with fabulous views of Skye’s north end before we sweep out across the Little Minch to Tarbert or – as on this occasion – Lochmaddy in North Uist. I also have the fondest memories of the previous vessel to operate this route, the old MV Hebrides and its great crew of island seamen – all of whom had travelled the world in the deep-sea Merchant Navy. The timetables are a bit tighter these days and there is not so much time for yarns, but the magic of this crossing remains intact.

Lochmaddy is a pleasant village with one great asset – the award-winning arts centre, Taigh Chearsabhagh, which has been operating since 1995. ‘Chearsabhagh’ is a Gaelicisation of the old Norse name for the village. There are always exhibitions of general interest and a fine small museum as well as an excellent tea-room and bookshop. In addition to providing a much-needed focal point for the village, Taigh Chearsabhagh’s reputation and its educational programmes have succeeded in drawing an extensive artistic community to North Uist. But do not tarry for too long as the single-track road which leads from Lochmaddy to our next port of departure, on the island of Berneray, is another that is all too easy to under-allow for. Berneray used to be linked to the North Uist mainland only by passenger ferry but a programme of causeway-building and new ferry routes during the 1990s has transformed communications within the islands. In the past, each ferry terminal in the Outer Isles tended to be pointed in the direction of the mainland but now inter-island travel is much easier and has opened up some great journeys. The hour-long crossing from Berneray to Leverburgh, at the south end of Harris, is one of them. You will want to spend every minute on deck enjoying the magnificent scenery and the prolific wildlife around the plethora of rocks and islets in the Sound of Harris.

The obvious question about Leverburgh is where such a discordant name came from. To the Gaels, it is still An t-Òb. But back in the early 1920s, it was renamed in honour of Lord Leverhulme, the industrialist who had made various fortunes by canning fish and selling soap powder to the world. Leverhulme bought Lewis and Harris just before the end of the First World War and had massive plans for the industrialisation of Stornoway. However, his stubborn insistence that the farms surrounding the town must be used for dairying to feed his new army of factory workers, brought him into irreconcilable conflict with returning ex-servicemen who had been promised that the farms would be broken up into crofts. Eventually, Leverhulme gave up on Stornoway and turned his attention briefly to South Harris where there are still remnants of his industrial schemes – as well as a village which bears his name! 

A detour to Rodel and the ancient church of St Clement’s is well worthwhile; then, heading north, the village of Northton is home to two exceptional visitor attractions. There is Seallam!, the centre for genealogical research run by Bill and Chrissie Lawson which will fascinate anyone who believes there is a drop of Hebridean blood in their veins. And next door, the MacGillivray Centre provides fascinating insights into the life of the great – but largely forgotten – naturalist, author and artist who spent his formative years on Harris in the early 19th century. William MacGillivray’s most famous work was A History of British Birds of which the Natural History Museum says: ‘Extremely detailed and accurate, this was the most comprehensive work on birds available in Britain at the time’. Not bad for a boy from South Harris!

You have chosen the west coast of Harris for your drive north, so stand by for some of the most stunning – and almost empty – beaches in Europe overlooked by townships with names like Scarista, Horgabost and Seilibost. This is truly magnificent territory, to be enjoyed at leisure. And if you happen to have the golf clubs in the car, be sure to put your money in the honesty box and play the gem of a nine hole course at Scarista which was designed on machair land by Finlay Morrison, a native of Harris and probably the only Gaelic speaking professional golfer to have played in the Open Championship!

Harris gave its name to the celebrated tweed industry although most of the production is now centred to the north, in Lewis. However, one Harris-based weaver, Donald John Mackay from Luskentyre, won national fame a couple of years back when, much to his surprise, he received an order from Nike who had decided to revamp their Terminator trainers in Harris Tweed. Not realising that they were communicating with one man in his weaving shed, Nike requested 10,000 metres of tweed – enough to keep him working flat out for several decades! Donald John enjoyed the publicity and then passed the order onto the mills in Lewis!

Lewis and Harris are one landmass though they have long been identified as two islands. This was because, in times past, the highest mountain in the Western Isles – the Clisham – must have seemed impassable. Today, it is still a climb that strains many internal combustion engines. You are now in the hills of North Harris – and this vast estate, until recently a bastion of private landlordism, is one of those which has now passed into community ownership. Near the village of Ardvourlie, a sign advises you that the border between Lewis and Harris has been traversed! It is 36 miles in all from Tarbert, the main village in Harris, to the Lewis capital of Stornoway. Roughly half way there, it is worth stopping to take a close look at the impressive memorial to the left of the road. This was designed by the  well-known Scottish artist, Will MacLean, and it is one of a series in Lewis that commemorates the part played by the island in the 19th century land struggle. This one relates to the Pairc Deer Raids of 1887, when crofters in this part of the island tried to recover the vast acreages that had been taken from them to make way for the sporting interests of the proprietors. Stornoway itself is a busy town built around its natural harbour. In its day, this was one of the leading herring ports of Europe, sending vast quantities of  fish to destinations as far apart as New York and the Baltic. Thousands of island women ‘followed the herring’ around the British coast, working as gutters and are commemorated by a sculpture close to the ferry terminal. It was hard work for little money, as Derick Thomson observed in Clann-Nighean an Sgadain/ The Herring Girls:

“Salt the reward they won
from those thousands of barrels,
the sea-wind sharp on their skins
and the burden of poverty in their kists,
and were it not for their laughter
you might think the harp-string was broken.”

Stornoway houses an excellent arts centre – An Lanntair – which is close to the ferry terminal. And if you are looking for that last quick souvenir to take away with you, seek out one of the town’s excellent butchers and ask for marag dhubh, the superb black pudding that has made a mysterious journey over the past decade from the croft-house kitchen to the gourmet restaurants of Glasgow and London. One thing I guarantee you – it will cost you a lot less in Stornoway!

The three hour crossing to the mainland takes you into Ullapool, built in 1788 as a herring port designed by Thomas Telford, and is still a striking example of a planned village. There is lots of music around and the Ceilidh Place Hotel, in particular, usually lives up to its name! There is also an excellent local museum.