Eoropaidh to Gabhsainn - 10/05/05

After a cuppa with mrs B and a picture session in the library, I disappear to Ness on the 1 pm bus. The weather is quite pleasant if a little chilly in the wind. The Ness bus is pretty full, and as we progress north, up the Westside, not many people alight. Two ladies change into the local minibus at South Dell, but when I get off at Eoropie beach, there are still many left to be distributed round the district. I walk through the dunes to the southern end of the beach, where I flop down in the machair. Spend the time until 3 o’clock plugging rabbit holes. Then I proceed south towards Suainebost. Or more accurately, the cemetery in the dunes. Cross the stream via the footbridge and say hello to two gents who subsequently disappear into the churchyard. On the seaward side, there is a succession of beaches. Not all are (easily) accessible. The problems start at Dell beach, where the easiest course of action is to walk down the lane to the mill and the main road, a mile to the southeast. I however wade across the river and proceed along the coastline. Further progress is impeded at the far end of South Dell by a collapsed stile. I end up stomping across somebody’s croft. The crofter, an elderly man, was very polite and we chatted for a minute before I went on my merry way. The time at 5 pm, I walked through Aird South Dell, and was collared by another local who launched into a religious discussion about the merits of Nicodemus (who was he again?). We all come to meet the Lord, this chap told me. Hm. I crossed the moor and crossed the little stream at 471616, where that whale was still lying decomposing. Good god above, what a hideous stench. I continue along the coast, where that orange float still adorns the hillside. Then I strike due south to cross the moors in the direction of the Galson roadend. It was a slightly boggy but not un-doable traverse. Arrived at the road at 6.20, so didn’t have to wait for too long for the little bus to appear. This had a female passenger on board who had her shoes off. I sat down directly behind her. She took one look at me, and plumped her fat behind against me. She tried to chat to me, but I was not interested really. The driver pulled over and told the woman to resume her previous seat. As we reached Stornoway, the bus developed an awkward screeching noise, which attracted the attention of everyone in the street. The woman alighted at the Clachan Bar, and went in for some more booze. Then, as we went over the Castle Street roadhump, a piece of piping fell off the bus with a ringing sound. Driver tried to pick up, but it was too hot to handle. Typical Galson coach.