116871: Brenish to Tamanavay Walk

The following account was related by Robert A. Burden of Cheshire recalling a walk he took in 1955.

On my second day on Lewis in 1955, l walked by road from Stornoway to Ardroil, where I had been told by my friend James Dobbie of Airdrie that a lady had given him accommodation and would likely provide me with B & B. As I arrived at the house, I met the lady halfway between her house and the road. Unfortunately she was headed for ‘the big city’. I assumed Glasgow, was told Inverness. However she advised me that if I continued along the road, she was sure that her sister, Mrs Angus Morrison at Brenish would welcome me. Not realising that every man and his dog in Brenish was named Morrison, or a variation thereof, I approached a queue at the rear of a Co-op delivery van and soon established that it was Mrs. Angus Morrison the fish whom I was seeking. Mrs Morrison made me very welcome and fed me with prime salmon.

The following day I set off in good weather up the very inviting Mealaval from where I crossed to Tamnasval. Heading southwards towards Tamanavay, I spotted a boat in The sea loch flying the Spanish flag. I was later told that was there to exchange brandy for local whisky. As I descended towards Tamanavay, two children spotted me and came up to accompany me to their remote home. With very little contact with the outside world, they were euphoric at being given some magazines and a newspaper which I produced from my rucksack. A welcome mutton lunch and I prepared to set off for Kinlochresort.

This, I was informed, was a hazardous undertaking, especially with mist forming on the hills. The young son, at his mother’s bidding, escorted me up the route of a stream to a flat landscape which was littered with pools and, suidh gorm, (is it you call it?) as far as the eye could see in the poor visibility. Thereupon my young guide showed me the first path marker. “Never move until you see the next one”, I was warned. I was assured that Mr. McDonald the postman had been successfully doing this for umpteen years. Then my guide was gone, off back to Tamanavay.

As I approached Kinlochresort, I spotted, of all things, a gate through which I must pass. Beyond the fence there ambled a tall young man of uncertain intention. As I increased my pace so did he, until I was well clear of the houses and on my way towards Loch Bhoismid. His roars eventually died on the wind.

I continued by the Gleann Mhicbhaig route, although this had not been my original intention. The challenge of Gleann Uiisleiter and the col between Teilesval and Uisgneabhal Mor had looked exciting, but time was against me and would have been extremely exacting on my energy and feet. So I compensated by passing into Harris below the towering Stron Scourst on my left and onwards down the track to Meavaig, Ardhasaig Bridge and the main Tarbert road.

Just before joining the road, I passed a cottage through the open door of which I saw a lady of medium age working at a loom. On seeing my tattered socks, veterans of the Cairngorms, Glencoe and many such places, she set about spinning me a new pair, at no cost I might add, and sending me on my way feeling very uplifted and good for a few more miles.

The staff at Tarbert Hotel regarded me somewhat quizzically, with little or no comprehension of the trek I had just enjoyed. The following day, before gratefully accepting the offer of a lift by way of Loch Seaforth back to Stornoway, I walked down to the local harbour, which was very much alive with the banter of boatmen and fishermen preparing for their days work. This was when I was told by the hotel manager that one of the boatmen, a gentleman who had arrived in Harris from Pakistan, by what route I have no idea, had mastered the Gaelic, as spoken by his friends and workmates, but had no grasp of English.

One other cherished memory is from the Sunday morning after I arrived in Stornoway. I asked a passing gentleman if he could exchange two sixpence so for a shilling to allow me to purchase milk from a street vending machine. His response was, “I don’t bring out my money on The Sabbath. That would be putting temptation in my way.”
Tioradh an-drasta!