The land of water - North Uist (2013)

NaBloPoMo 2026 - #10

 
I start this post with a view of the township of Lochmaddy in North Uist, where my Outer Hebridean stint commenced, this day in 2004. Before arriving here, I had spent about a fortnight around Fort William, a busy tourist town adjacent to Ben Nevis. Lots of traffic, lots of people. 
That morning, I joined the Citylink coach to Uig, Skye. Four hours later, I boarded the ferry to Lochmaddy. The crossing takes an hour and 45 minutes. Darkness was beginning to fall when I disembarked from the Hebrides. Although I was preoccupied with locating my digs, one thing struck me. It was so quiet. No traffic roaring around the streets, people quietly going about their business at the close of day, and no fuss. Just the sound of the wind, rustling in the yellowing grass along the roadside and the easy 'plop' of a wave, falling ashore. 

I spent five nights in Lochmaddy that November, before winding my way north to Berneray, Harris and Lewis - and I have effectively never left the latter island for 22 years. 

I returned to Lochmaddy in later years, but the friends I met there (or was in the company of, as the case may be) have all since passed away. I have memories of that little place, tinged with sadness. 

NaBloPoMo 2026 - #09

 It is 88 years ago since the Night of Broken Glass [Kristallnacht]. That night, an organised mob of Nazi forces and sympathisers went on the rampage in towns and cities across Germany, smashing and destroying Jewish-owned property and businesses. It was a foretaste of what was to come during World War II. The extermination of anyone deemed sub-human by the warped mind of Adolf Hitler and his henchmen. Jews topped their league of the unfit, closely followed by gypsies, the mentally ill and many many others. The Reichskristallnacht was a night of infamy, and not just to Germany. Hitler had already been allowed to get away with murder for several years beforehand. In 1936, he occupied the Rhineland which had been ceded to France at the end of the First World War. The League of Nations, the predecessor of the United Nations, cried wolf but had no bite. On 12 March 1938, Nazi forces marched into Austria to join that country to Germany, an event referred to as the Anschluss. Neville Chamberlain flew to Munich to meet with Adolf Hitler on 30 September 1938, returning with the infamous phrase: "Peace for our time". Six weeks later, the Reichskristallnacht took place. Only a few months later, Germany invaded the Sudetenland area of Czecho-Slovakia, and again, nobody moved a finger to stop. In September 1939, Hitler thought he could get away with the invasion of Poland. But this time, it prompted a declaration of war, signalling the outbreak of the Second World War. The lights have gone out in Europe, it was said at the time. The lights in Europe had already been extinguished in 1914, and had not been relit, not even at the end of the First World War. The Versailles Peace Treaty of June 1919 contained all the ingredients for another war, which duly materialised. After the unspeakable atrocities of the Second World War, Germany was divided into four by the victorious allies. The British, French and American sectors became West Germany, whilst the Soviet sector was turned into East Germany, a communist state. Berlin was similarly divided. Until 1961, people from the East fled to the West in droves. A barrier was erected across Berlin in August 1961, later replaced by a high, concrete wall. Similar barriers were put up along the borders between East and West Germany. Anyone trying to flee from East to West was shot on sight, no questions asked. The advent of Mikhail Gorbatchov as leader of the USSR in the 1980s heralded a start of change. And when this wind of change blew across eastern Europe, it blew away all the communist regimes within the space of a few months in 1989.

The Berlin Wall was torn down on 9 November 1989, and you can see the dilemma. Do we remember the Kristallnacht, and not celebrate the reunification of Germany? Do we celebrate the reunification, and ignore the Night of Broken Glass? Maybe the two can be reconciled. The Berliners remember the Kristallnacht in a very low-key but poignant manner. Every year, in the evening of November 9th, candles are left on the doorsteps of houses that were ransacked that night.

The flame, burning at the top of this post, is my candle of remembrance for Kristallnacht.

NaBloPoMo 2026 - #08

 This afternoon, I took a walk of nearly 13 km to Arnish Point (and back). The weather was glorious, hardly any wind and broad if low sunshine. 

NaBloPoMo 2026 - #07

 
This week has been mostly flat calm, and perfect for reflective images...

NaBloPoMo 2026 - #06

Last month, on October 13th, the fishing vessel Kilda, went out to work off the northeast coast of the island of Lewis. Amidst deteriorating weather conditions, the boat never returned. In the early hours of the following morning, the remains of the skipper were found near Port of Ness. Despite extensive searches, no trace of the other two crew members has been found, and the boat also remains missing. The funeral of Douglas Craigie has taken place in Carloway, a huge event that saw mourners seated in two churches and a community hall. A fundraiser on-line has gathered more than a quarter of a million pounds, a vast sum by any standard. Such, however, is the generosity of the people of this island in times of adversity, and this tragedy has affected everybody. 

Yesterday, a liferaft from the Kilda washed up at West Burrafirth, on the west coast of Shetland, a mere 220 miles away to the northeast. I am faintly disgusted with the hype of some media outlet who posted this news as a "major breakthrough"; and with other outlets who are speculating regarding the involvement of a submarine in the loss of the Kilda. There is no evidence, and until the Marine Accidents Investigations Branch conclude their inquiries, we just don't know. We may never know what happened to that fishing vessel. 

My thoughts, prayers and sympathies are with the families and friends of the crew of the Kilda.  

NaBloPoMo 2026 - #05

November 5th is Guy Fawkes night, to commemorate the Gun Powder Plot of 1605 in which Guy Fawkes conspired to blow up the Houses of Parliament. He famously failed in his endeavour and was executed. The commemorations take the shape of letting off fireworks around the country - including in Scotland.

The 17th century also saw the introduction of King William of Orange (William III), who was a Dutchman. His legacy lives on the 1692 Glencoe massacre, which was indirectly carried out in his name. The people of Glen Coe, a scenic mountain valley south of Fort William, had been required to swear allegiance to King William by a certain date or time, but this affirmation of loyalty did not reach the king in time. So, a contingent of soldiers came, asked for hospitality in houses in the glen, and in return for their hospitality put their hosts to the sword.

That's already bad enough.  Three years earlier, King William, a protestant, fought a pitched battle on the River Boyne in Ireland against Catholic forces. I am aware I am oversimplifying history, but the Troubles in Northern Ireland (between 1968 and 1998) are a direct result of this battle. And we have seen as recently as this summer that this antipathy continues to fester under the surface. When the Orange Order (see the connection?) wanted to march at Drumcree, they were stopped through a legal process. Cue a huge row between Catholic and Protestant politicians.