Today is the longest day, and for the first time since Gairloch I didn't have to wear a waterproof. Just three layers to keep warm. Yesterday I passed an aging hippie pushing a heavily-laden bike up a small hill: he was going to the Callanish stones today. Sunrise at 04:20 would have been obscured, but perhaps it will clear for sunset, at 22:37. I heard later from another cyclist, who camped at Callanish last night, that the hippies were up all night banging drums and singing.
The journey north was straightforward, with a few detours to get off the main road and stay nearer the sea. One unexpectedly had me cycling across the machair on the beach, but it was an enjoyable surprise. You get a much better feel for the place on the tiny roads: the chickens, the tang of peat smoke; everyone says hello.
I had been advised against going to the Butt by the helpful lady in the Loch Croistean café, but I liked it. It was suitably wild, with a lighthouse, a steep rocky headland, and quite a few seabirds, which I've not seen much of so far. A round trip via Port Ness bought me back to the Ness Historical Society's café, which was packed - a Sunday School outing. It also had quite a good museum and an extensive tractor exhibition.
Gaelic is the main language round here, and through perseverance I've achieved a modest proficiency. For example, there's a village on a hill above Port Ness called Cnoc Ard, which I'm pretty sure means Doorbell Broken. Many people have passed through the school there.
I am really quite jealous of your visit to the extensive Tractor exhibition. I do hope you will tell us all about it :)
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