I’m not saying Mr Rh and I are unsociable, but we do seem to tend to head for the emptiest reaches of beyond on holiday these days. And the beach at Bostadh does feel like quite a long way from anywhere. You need to leave the Scottish mainland for Skye, catch the ferry to Lewis, drive up north and over the bridge to the island of Great Bernera, then aim for the furthest tip of that. It should probably be called the Outer Outer Hebrides if you ask me.
I can promise you pale sand and properly blue water that wouldn’t look out of place in the Caribbean (it’s just a bit draughtier). It was nice to just sit and watch the local birdlife flying around and bobbing about. But if you walk to the back of the beach you’ll spot a thatched mound, its roof held on by long ropes weighted with holed stones. It’s a recreation of the houses that once stood here in the Iron Age – a number were revealed in the 1990s when a storm blew away some of the dunes.
You must cross a little moat (which unfortunately isn’t putting off the rabbits who are eating the roof – they’ve got the sense to use the bridge like you do) and descend into the sheltered low doorway. Then ducking down (even I had to duck) you enter the house.
It’s absolutely pitch black, and although you can hear a welcoming voice telling you all will come clear in a moment, and inviting you to sit just there (or somewhere thereabouts) – well it’s just as though you’ve gone blind. But gradually your eyes adjust, and in the meantime you can listen to the superb soft Lewissian lilt of the lovely and knowledgeable woman who is the house’s curator. Eventually you’ll believe her that it’s even possible to read a book in this dim light.
I thought I might like to live in a house like this, cosily out of the draught, with my strongly-scented peat fire burning, doing a bit of weaving.
I thoroughly recommend you visit, it feels like time travel.
Sounds a wonderful place. I'd like a bit of time travel.
Evocative and lovely field notes Rhiannon. Have say to walking to Bostadh on the first (and only warm) day of our stay on Lewis four years ago was one of the high points. Apart from being so very peaceful, perched on the edge of the world - we also had a close encounter with a golden eagle on the walk back.
Beautiful notes, sounds like a brilliant place to go, especially the Outer Outer aspect.
And isn't language great, "recreation" with its dual meaning.
Dunno if it's still the same curator from a few years ago but imagine it is . She deserved a lot of credit for her experimentation in the siting of hearths . Sitting in that smoke was too high a price to pay , despite the gains .
Thank you all. Indeed I'm sure it'll be the same woman. She was great and you knew that because she'd spent so much time in the building, she knew what she was talking about from experience - about the fire, yes, and also her theories about the little room on the north side and how it would have been used. And TSC, you'll be pleased to hear she arrived and left in a little bus. So it must be accessible by public transport at least some days.
As a little postscript to my comment I should mention, in line with the rest of Lewis, the IA house is not open on Sunday - it was Sunday when we went so didn't get to go inside.
Well Rhiannon I have been reading Peter May's crime trilogy that take place on the islands, and wandering round in my mind amongst looms and peat fires, so your blog was lovely to read. And being curious looked up that I/A house...
visitouterhebrides.co.uk/see-and-do/bosta-bostadh-iron-age-house-p523981
What a shame, June! Yes I think Sundays are still taken seriously in the Outer Hebrides. I was surprised we could even get the ferry but apparently that's been possible since 2009.
And Moss, since leaving the library my knowledge of fiction has dropped off disgracefully. But I will get hold of those books and give them a try. I see one is called 'the Blackhouse' (we visited some and that was another highlight, they had a working victorian loom for making the Harris tweed. The oily smell and the rhythmic clackety noise and the lovely landscape-derived colours. I felt an expensive weaving obsession coming on but have managed to duck it by doing some knitting in a tweedy-looking yarn). And another is 'The Chessmen' - we went to the superb modernised museum in Stornoway and saw some of the very same chess pieces, also Amazing, and much better than seeing those at the British Museum so far from their home. And then I was so delighted to seek out and walk on the beach where they were found. Just acres of empty sand and sky and no-one else there. Oh it's so lovely. I couldn't do winters on Lewis though. I would die from lack of sunlight.
Have you been? If you haven't, you should bear it in mind...
Excellent re the bus :)
My all time favourite beach I have ever visited. Simply beautiful (it was a nice sunny day when I visited which no doubt helped!) The roundhouse is the icing on the cake. Thanks for the happy memories! :)
Ah Carl, I might have guessed you'd have got there before me! You must wear out a lot of shoe leather. It's lovely indeed.