Okay, we might be pushing the limits a little by calling this a Day Ride, but if ever you’re in the vicinity, here’s a route you’ll definitely want to tick off. Willie Davidson took his bike, and his camera. Here’s what you need to know:
I was lucky enough to have a fair degree of flexibility about when to go, so through September I’d avidly been watching the weather forecast for a dry week. However, I had a deadline as in mid-October the ferries move to a winter timetable that would make my trip impossible.
On Thursday, the long-range forecast promised me a dry week and I immediately booked my trip. By Saturday, the forecast had changed back to rain. Undaunted by predictions of meteorological misery, I set off knowing it was likely I’d find out just how good my new waterproofs really were!
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My first ferry was from Oban. As I rode up the A82, I unconsciously pulled into the Green Welly and ordered a bacon roll and a black coffee. The Welly is a petrol/food/retail stop in Tyndrum, and a Scottish institution. Its secret is that it seems to be halfway between the central belt and everywhere in the Highlands.
I’m glad I did stop, as the lady at the next table told me that an accident had closed the Oban Road. Google Maps told me I’d need to make a long detour up Glen Coe and then down the coast. I managed to get the whole bacon roll in my mouth in one go and was out the door at the run. On any normal day, I would’ve loved this journey as the views are sublime, but I was in a panicked rush. The ride did, however, make me realise just how rapid the Tiger can be if you’re pushing on! I made the ferry with 10 minutes to spare, but I didn’t get to visit the Oban Distillery. Which is probably just as well as I would’ve spent money on malt whisky that I wanted but didn’t need.
Riding a fully loaded motorcycle up a greasy steel ramp on to a moving ferry gives me a unique thrill. It’s part fear that I might end up in the sea, and part excitement because the ferry is where a holiday really begins. There were dark storm clouds over the Sound of Mull as we passed Tobermory and the sea got a bit lumpy with spray cascading over the bows, but I suspect it could have been much worse!
Barra was misty and grey when I arrived, but my hotel had a wonderful view of the castle in Castlebay. I had Barra langoustines for my dinner, which were a bit of a wrestle to get into but were worth the effort! I’m sure Barra is a beautiful island, but I didn’t see it. I arrived at dusk and left in the dark. The only ferry I could get off Barra left at 6:40am so I had to be up and out hideously early. I didn’t even get breakfast as the hotel kitchen wasn’t open.
I knew I’d have four hours to kill on Uist before my next ferry to Harris. So, when the ferry docked in Eriskay, I sat in a little shrine next to the port and waited for the dawn while drinking coffee out of a thermos flask. The day was cold, grey, and dreich, so I pottered about aimlessly going wherever fancy took me, including a creepy 5000-year-old windswept burial cairn and a closed museum. The islands were a drab and treeless landscape of boulders, bracken, and peat bogs. The cloud turned to drizzle, then rain, as I got to the next ferry, but I was warm and dry in my new waterproofs.
After crossing the Sound of Harris, I found Leverburgh was dry, and the cloud cover had lifted a bit. I liked Harris immediately with its mountains, lochs, craggy coastline, and long beaches of golden sand. It was beautiful on a crap day, so it must be stunning on a nice one. I really enjoyed the ride to Stornoway. In fairness, Uist may have been nice as well, if I could’ve seen more than a hundred metres.
I fell in love with Lewis and Harris! What an unbelievably wonderful place to ride a motorcycle. My ferry to Ullapool didn’t sail till 2pm so I spent the morning looking at ancient relics (no, this didn’t involve a mirror). I started with Bosta Iron Age village, a Pictish settlement next to the incredibly beautiful Bostadh beach.
From there it was a short but stunning ride to the Calanais Standing Stones, an atmospheric 4000-year-old Neolithic monument. Then fast-forward 2000 years to the Dun Carloway Broch which is a kind of bell-shaped fortified house that was used from the birth of Christ till the 16th century. Finally, just along the coast is Gearrannan Blackhouse village, which consists of nine restored traditional thatched cottages built in the 17th century and lived in till the 70s. Four thousand years of Scottish history in four hours!
The weather was glorious, but as I travelled back to Stornoway all hell broke loose, with torrential rain and gusty winds. This left me a drookit mess of Gore-Tex dripping all over the ferry. The dreich weather followed me to Ullapool with heavy rain as I headed to my hotel in Gairloch. The route I took is part of the North Coast 500 and after 20 miles miraculously the rain stopped and the cloud lifted. My last 30 miles were glorious with scenery so magnificent it was hard to keep my eyes on the road.
The next day was appallingly wet. My allegedly waterproof gloves gave up after two hours and by four hours my fingers were all crinkled like I’d been in the bath too long. I’d been really looking forward to riding over Applecross; it should have been spectacular, but it wasn’t. It was disgustingly wet and foggy, and I hated it. At the top, visibility was a little over 10 metres and the hairpin corners and potholes came at you out of the mist even when riding at walking pace.
I had things planned for my visit to the Isle of Skye, but it was so wet I decided not to bother with any of them, except for a pilgrimage to the Talisker Distillery. It was closed due to flooding! It was that kind of day. However, they did sell me a bottle of Port Ruighe from a pop-up shop in the car park.
In the evening I had a fantastic meal in a seafood restaurant at Portree harbour, then returned to my room and drank Talisker out of the tin cup from the top of my thermos flask; a nice way to end the day.
I’d hoped to visit Islay and its distilleries on this trip, but I couldn’t get a ferry, so it was home time. As if to taunt me, the weather turned brilliant with bright sunshine.
On my way back I visited the bizarre Fairytale Distillery at Ardelve and then stopped to get the obligatory photo of Eilean Donan Castle. My last stop before the insanity of the A9 was the Dalwhinnie Distillery. I popped into the shop, saw their prices and popped straight back out!
I’ve decided my new Tiger is a star and like it more with every mile travelled. It’s the top-of-the-range GT Pro and like all top-of-the-range bikes, it gets bundled with lots of gizmos and nonsensical gimmicks. Like a heated saddle. I’ve ridden motorcycles for over 45 years and never felt the need for a heated saddle and was positive it would be useless. I was wrong. Heated saddles are brilliant and all bikes should have one!
I had the good, the bad, and the ugly of Scottish weather, but I really enjoyed my time in the Hebrides. I got to visit a part of my own country I’d never seen before and discovered my waterproofs actually did work (apart from the gloves…)!
