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| Making plans for the weekend |
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| Dolphins following the ferry |
The clue is in the name. Castlebay. The approach by sea to
the main settlement on the Hebridean Isle of Barra is dominated by the castle
perched on its rock in the middle of the bay, accessible only by boat (or
swimming if you are so inclined). The castle is only a 5 minute boat trip from
the shore and as it had been a few years since I had last been there I was keen
to take another look and it wasn’t too hard to persuade the other Lynx Pack
runners to go as part of the post Barrathon entertainment.
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| Our transport |
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| leaving Castlebay |
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| Landing at the Castle |
The site is believed to have been occupied since earliest times but the castle
wasn't built until the turbulent 15th Century as the seat and stronghold of the clan
MacNeil after the Chief Gill-Adhamnain MacNeil was given the Isle of Barra by
Alexander MacDonald, the Lord of the Isles. In the 18th Century the
chief of the clan MacNeil left the castle for a house on the island which was
probably much more practical if not more comfortable, and the castle fell into
ruins, was gutted by fire and its stone plundered to be used as ballast in
boats and in construction of other buildings in Castlebay such as the post
office. In 1837 the 41st chief of the clan was forced to sell Barra
as he fell into financial ruin.
In 1914 Robert Lister MacNeil of Barra inherited the title
of clan chief but by now the line of succession was firmly based across the
Atlantic however in 1937 he purchased the castle and set about restoring it
into a living home, if not faithfully recreating its original design and with liberal
use of modern materials such as concrete. In 2000 Ian Roderick MacNeil of Barra
put the castle into the care of Historic Scotland under the lease of one pound
and one bottle of Talisker whisky each year.
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| The view back to Castlebay |
The incorporation of the new into the old lacks the
sophistication of modern restoration projects and an uneasy juxtaposition of
elements gives an unsettling effect. Finding a bedroom with a fully fitted en
suite bathroom was a surprise and it was strange to find windows that had been
clumsily glazed with Perspex rather than glass. This is a restoration project
where it feel that the new has been forced upon the old rather than fully
incorporated or blended. Nonetheless nothing can detract from its imposing character and stark beauty and the impression of formidable strength and impermeability, there is no question as to why this location was chosen for the castle.
Usually the eagerly anticipated approach to Castlebay
involves sailing past little islands, glimpses of magnificent sandy beaches on
Vatersay and of course the imposing structure of the castle on its rock
guarding the entrance to the bay, but not this time. Thick, thick mist had
descended down to sea level, so much so that there appeared to be two Calmac
ferry men stood at the bow of the ship acting as lookouts while the foghorn was
blown at repeated intervals whilst the passengers made nervous jokes about the
accuracy of the boat’s satnav system.
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| Castlbay appearing out of the gloom |
And suddenly the
castle appeared looming out of the gloom, it was incredibly atmospheric and
throughout the evening the mist cleared and closed in again giving tantalising glimpses
of the castle.
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| ghostly apparition |
By morning the mist had cleared and left a grey overcast but
quite humid and still day for the race. After an appearance by the Olympic
torch at the start and local celebrity Father Roddy of BBC2's "An island Parish" fame was introduced to the crowd
were set off on our 13.1 (hilly) miles. After a slightly over enthusiastic
start coupled with a dodgy stomach the race became a bit of an ordeal for me
after about 4 miles and I spent the next 6 miles persuading myself that the
self loathing created by running a slow time would be far less than the self
loathing created by a DNF….while a significant proportion of the field
proceeded to overtake me including Hamish, my heb half nemesis. Everyone else seemed to have ran well though, Bert
had started slowly but predictably enough ran a pretty good time, Geoff seemed
to fly round and John also was going very strongly. Judging by the photos that
Innes took it was hard to tell if Mike was enjoying himself in the race or not
but I certainly got a boost from seeing Innes at the top of the infamous hill.
The ladies race was won by a New Zealander on holiday with Gillian in 2nd
and it was good to see that Gillian hadn’t lost her fitness while off on her
world travels. Simon did his usual stop/start running moving up and down
through the field like a yo yo and he was narrowly beaten in a sprint finish by
John who, out of us all was the only prize winner.
Anyway after a swim, sauna and the buffet to end all buffets
it was back to the hotel for some chill out time before venturing out the
Kisimul café for a curry and then on to the Celidh.
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| Prize winners |
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| In their party frocks |
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| Kisimul curry cafe |
The Barra celidh is
one of the best ever and this year was no exception and the hall was packed out
with people dancing to the tunes of the Vatersay Boys. Another celebrity had made an appearance on the Island to
perform at the celidh – Michelle McManus of Pop Idol fame and similarly to last
year when Bert was determined to have his photo taken with Father Roddy he was
now determined to have his photo taken with the lovely Michelle. Unfortunately
he was too shy to ask so I had to and Michelle was very nice about it. Bert shy - aye, right!
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| Bert knew that wearing a kilt would make him a hit with the ladies |
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| Perfect post race recovery drink |
The post Celidh entertainment takes place in the Castlebay
bar before the final stagger back up the hill to the hotel and it was during
this stagger up the road that we became aware of a loud noise emanating from
various areas of grassland – a loud grating noise with a constant rhythmn which
almost sounded as though it was made by a machine so mechanical was its
repetition. I peered into the dense grassland at the side of the road but
nothing was moving and someone suggested it may be a frog or a toad which did
seem feasible at the time. However after a few drinks at the castlebay bar I
was less restrained and clambered over the barbed wire fence into the thick,
dense, not to mention wet, shrubbery. As I stumbled towards where I thought the
noise was coming from all went quiet. Definitely a frog, thought I. I retreated
slowly and after another whisky decided it was bedtime for the fearless frog
hunter. Naturally Simon was delighted when I crashed into the bedroom at 2am soaking
wet and covered in grass and weeds to report my discovery….
On reporting my discovery to the others at breakfast time
John, who is the font of all knowledge about Scotland and its natural history,
confirmed that what i had been hunting and what had been making that distinctive
noise was definitely that rare species of bird, the Corncrake. Simon misheard
him and for a time seemed to think I had spent the night crawling through the
fields looking for a cornflake. Obviously a hangover impairs your hearing too.
On Sunday afternoon we all went our separate ways in search
of entertainment and so Simon, Bert and I went for a cycle ride around the half
marathon race route in reverse and for quite a while I was astonished as to how
hilly it was. How did we manage to race a half marathon around that?
And then sadly it was all over for another year and we made our
way back to Oban the following day and even then plans were being hatched for a
return to Barra next year
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| Onboard entertainment included the launching of the lifeboat |
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| It was a bit breezy on deck! |
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