Eriskay Galore!

Southbound today in an attempt to see as much of the causeway-connected chain as possible. Eriskay, that southernmost point before a ferry is required for Barra, is a small, but absolutely perfectly formed, little island. 

We climbed Beinn Sciathan, took in the windy views, then skirted round to (yet another) white sandy beach. Eriskay is also home to the tale of the SS Politician, and Whisky Galore! Though save for the entirely underwhelming Am Politician café, there's not really any big deal made of it. Perhaps the passed down memories are still too raw, for a story that deviates quite significantly from the happy-go-lucky movie representation.

We wind down various roads on the way back, stopping to take in shrines on Catholic South Uist the likes of which we've only seen in Spain and Greece; all the while listening out in vain for the call of Corncrakes.

(Wild Eriskay pony in the extra)