please empty your brain below

I knew you would write about this. Indeed so much so I nearly wrote a comment last week in anticipation of it (severe withdrawal symptoms whilst you were away).

I was in the Hebrides on a Saturday many years ago. It was Saturday afternoon and the "organiser" assured us the ferry left at 2.00 p.m. In those days there was no Sunday ferry. Imagine my horror when sitting on the harbour we saw the 1.30 p.m. ferry depart. The next day was really miserable. We had to go back to the hotel and plead with the lady to take a Sunday-night only booking (as we had already been staying there she felt able to do this with a clean consience). She then pointed out that we would have to have all our meals there as nowhere would be open and we spend a miserable cold day on the local beach because there was no transport.

If you haven't been there you wouldn't understand.

Casino Avenue is respecting the Sabbath by being unavailable.

Hope you enjoyed the peace and quiet, anyhow!

An East End friend of mine delighted me by describing how someone had 'Shut up like a Bank Holiday'. In 20 years time this will be a totally alien concept. Perhaps it should now be 'Like a Hebridean Sunday'.

Welcome back to the Smoke !
Nearly sent an Internet search party after you.

I was on Harris/Lewis on a Saturday a few years back. The coach dropped us at the Ferry Terminal in time for the eight o'clock ferry back to Skye.

Other Half took one look at the long queue of cars waiting to go on (we were foot passengers) and declared we were going to the pub. We came close to a row when I said I was not prepared to take any chances, because if we missed the boat, we would be stuck with absolutely nothing to do until Monday morning.

Fortunately, we were able to have a drink and catch our sailing.

Ooh, it's years since I visited Eoropie.

All hail the messiah! The return of DG! Thank god! (literally)

My grandparents used to go to the Free Presbyterian Church (being as it was the only one anywhere near where they lived), they made us go once. Cold, dark. A man sang the psalms, unaccompanied by instruments or other singing. The most miserable service I think I've ever attended.

Very interesting... I've heard all about the folk music and strong traditional roots of the culture of the Hebridies... but I never knew that it was such a conservative religious place as that.

Great photos... some of those shots look as turquoise as the Carribean... only without palm trees. I imagine the water was freezing though.

Some excellent beach pictures in there. Do you mind if I embed a few - with attribution and links to your Flickr page - from my Outer Hebrides beach blog?

Go ahead John - I was hoping to link to some of your photos tomorrow anyway.

I suspect I nearly walked past your house on Berneray on Friday afternoon - shame about the weather.

The ultimate Sabbath story has to be Compton Mackenzie's "Whisky Galore". The film is better than the book in many ways (certainly funnier) but he book does have the wonderful tension between the Presbyterians of Great Todday and the Catholics of Little Todday. The former have to discontinue unshipping whisky when the Sabbath comes, and spend 24 hours of anguish thinking of the godless Papists of Little Todday having unrestricted access to the cargo.

Psalms are chanted, not sung.










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