The Outer Hebrides
An armchair travel story from the Nomad Life collection
We began our adventure in Scotland by hopping between islands in the western isles. Some of the passages took only twenty minutes and were operated by a small boat with space for half a dozen cars, while others lasted several hours and felt like cruise ships featuring restaurants and casinos.
To be completely honest, I have no idea how Shelby planned our itinerary through this part of the trip and kept it straight in her head. We spent several full days driving, during which we crossed between islands on ferries multiple times per day. Shelby often plans complex trip itineraries beyond what I’d ever attempt on my own, but this was the first time I’ve ever become so confused, that I gave up trying to keep track of where we were going and how we were going to get there.
One of our favorite stops was at a castle on the Isle of Mull. The property sat high up on a hill overlooking the ocean, with rolling pastures full of sheep below. Shelby especially enjoyed their self-service Scotch tasting library, which was included in our accommodation. Her favorite Scotch happened to be from Tobermory, Mull’s “capital”.
We crossed back to mainland Scotland and ventured down a “sea lach” to a remote, high-end restaurant called Inver. Their modernised croft-style building looked over the water, with the remains of a crumbling castle on the other side of the inlet. The view was especially nice in the evening when the water was still. To Skutull’s dismay, they didn’t have a dog menu, but the waitstaff did stop by frequently to pet his belly and refill his water bowl.
The tasting menu at Inver featured a large array of Scottish-inspired dishes, from chicken hearts to beeswax ice cream. Shelby still makes fun of me for this, but my favorite dish was a turnip broth they served in a ceramic mug. I asked our waitress how it was made and she told me they boil a large amount of turnips for ~30 minutes, then add pork fat infused with chili peppers. This coming winter I plan to attempt a recreation!
A few days after our delicious meal, and nearly a dozen ferry crossings later, we found ourselves on the Isle of Harris in the Outer Hebrides. Shelby loves standing stones. We had visited several of them during our time in the UK already, but what brought us to the far reaches of the kingdom was a special stone circle called Calanish that is not henged like Stonehenge, but is almost as large and actually quite a bit older.
We arrived at the stone circle as the sun rose over rolling pastures and were pleasantly surprised to discover both that we were the only people there and that the stones weren’t roped off. We sat alone amongst the stone circle for almost an hour as the sun painted the clouds pink and baby blue. It’s still unclear why people built stones circles like this, but I enjoyed meditating near the center of the circle as Skutull napped in the grass beside me. This experience was one of my most cherished of our entire nomadic journey.
The ferry we took from the Isle of Harris back to the Isle of Skye was our final ocean passage until our Atlantic crossing a month later. We spent several days in Skye exploring the countryside. Our hotel served breakfast from until 10am, so on one of the good weather days we woke up early to do a hike called “The Quiraing” before breakfast. We were once again the only people there. Waking up early seems to be a good strategy to avoid crowds in Europe, as this hike was one of the most popular travel influencer meccas on Instagram at the time and would typically be swarming with hikers and selfie-takers.
When we arrived at the trailhead just after sunrise, we were socked in by fog, but we only had to wait a few minutes before the clouds began to dissipate, revealing incredible views of the sunrise. Craggy points and green cliffs undulated toward the sea. The scenery reminded me of Utah, but if it were covered in grass and mud instead of dust. I’d rate The Quiraing in my top 10 all-time best days of hiking.
We also hiked a trail to the “Fairy Pools” on Skye, which runs along a series of cascading waterfalls. This hike was incredibly busy near the bottom. Everyone was there with their cameras and drones, fighting for an angle to get a picture for their Instragram without other people in it. We were one of the only groups out of hundreds that climbed past the one-mile marker. I was relieved to escape the massive crowd and found a rock on the bank of the river to sit and meditate on. After about ten minutes, I opened my eyes and was surprised to see Skutull sitting next to me looking out into the distance. Shelby said he’d been meditating with me the whole time, which is rare for him-he’s usually busy doing a task or asleep.
One of the more unique activities we did throughout our entire nomadic journey was learning to forage for food on Skye. Our guide handed us all kinds of plants and seaweed to taste, most of which were both surprisingly flavorful and different from each other. My favorite food was a tiny seaweed that grew on the rocks near the edge of the shoreline, which had a strong umami flavor. Shelby’s favorite was a the small, yellow primrose flower.
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Skutull watched us eat several plants during the first half hour of foraging and started to get jealous that we weren’t sharing with him. Whenever our guide reached his hand out with something for us to take, Skutull thought the guide was giving us treats and excluding him. So when we wandered down a creek bed and found both waterhemlock and deadly nightshade flowers, two of the most poisonous plants in the northern hemisphere, Skutull decided he’d take matters into his own hands and start foraging plants off the ground. We had to yell at him as he nibbled on grass next to deadly nightshade in full bloom!
Our guide demonstrated a few ancient survival techniques. He showed us how hazel is great for making spears because the shoots are very straight and the wood can be molded when steamed gently.
Near the end of our adventure, we sat in a field of garlic and started a fire with flint. Our guide pulled out a piece of dried birch bark and filled it with dried heather kindling. He struck the flint so a spark landed in the heather, then blew hard until the oils in the bark caught fire and exploded into a burst of flames.
I wanted to have a go at it, so I did my best to mimic our guide’s technique. I expected the hard part to be striking the flint so a spark landed on the kindling, but that was actually quite easy. I quickly got some of the plant matter to smoke and began blowing rapidly into the rolled up birch bark. Shelby made fun of how close to my face I was holding the bark and how intense I looked.
After about a minute I started to hyperventilate and took a break.
“Try longer, steady blows,” our guide instructed me.
I struck the flint again and got the kindling smoking, then followed his instructions, inhaling as deeply as I could, then blowing out in a steady stream until all the air from my lungs was gone.
“Zack, you’re holding it so close to your face,” Shelby repeated, laughing.
She was right, I could feel myself going crosseyed staring at the smoking bark, but I didn’t care. I was a man! I was going to start a fire!
At the end of a particularly deep exhale, I saw small orange sparks jumping amongst the kindling and heard crackling sounds coming from the bark. I was almost there. With one last push, I inhaled and blew hard on the kindling. Orange sparks of flaming birch oil burst from bark and shot up my nose and onto my face. I dropped the kindling to the ground.
Shelby and our guide were rolling on the ground laughing at me. “I told you you were holding it too close!” Shelby exclaimed.
Unfortunately, the sparks burned the rim of my right nostril, which caused a scab to form. It looked like a booger was hanging out of my nose for the next week…
This story continues at https://zackthoutt.com/writing/nomad-life/18-the-outer-hebrides
Originally published at https://zackthoutt.com.
