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.
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