Riddoch on the Outer Hebrides by Lesley Riddoch sampler

Well-informed, well-observed, provocative, hard headed,
wrong-headed and inspired in equal measure
Malcolm MacLean, Gaelic Arts Agency
NEW
UPDATED
EDITION
<strong>Riddoch</strong>
on the Outer Hebrides
LESLEY RIDDOCH

lesley riddoch is one of Scotland’s best-known commentators and broadcasters.
She was assistant editor of the Scotsman in the 1990s (and editor of
the Scotswoman when female staff wrote, edited and produced the paper)
and contributing editor of the Sunday Herald. She is best known however, for
broadcasting with programmes on bbc2, Channel 4, Radio 4 and bbc Radio
Scotland, for which she won two Sony speech broadcaster awards. Lesley is a
weekly columnist for the Herald and National and wrote for the Scotsman until
early 2021. She’s also a regular contributor to the Guardian, Scotland Tonight,
Question Time and Any Questions. In 2014, she became a familiar figure on
TV and radio making the case for Scottish independence and in 2020 won the
Saltire Society’s Fletcher of Saltoun Award for contribution to Public Life in
Scotland and Independence Campaigner of the Year Award.
Lesley is Director of Nordic Horizons, a policy group which exchanges expertise
between the Nordic nations and Scotland and has organised 60 speaker
events since 2010. Lesley founded the feminist magazine Harpies and Quines in
1991, was a Trustee of the Isle of Eigg Trust, which led to the successful community
buyout in 1997, and founded the charity Africawoman in 2001. In addition
to four books, Lesley has presented and co-produced films about Norway, Iceland,
the Faroes, Estonia and the Declaration of Arbroath, commemorating its
700th anniversary. Lesley lives by the sea in North Fife where she co-presents a
weekly podcast accessible via www.lesleyriddoch.com/podcasts
Provocative and inspired, <strong>Riddoch</strong> on the Outer Hebrides is a must read,
especially for those that think they know the islands inside out. You won’t
find a more stimulating or relevant read around.
laura macivor, stornoway gazette
A truly interesting book… Lesley <strong>Riddoch</strong> raises some curiosity-piquing
ideas which render this book well worth more than one reading.
fiona allen, edinburgh review
She can rattle and enrage, but she gets to the heart of the matter and requires that
people be honest… This is an interesting, entertaining and challenging read.
ron ferguson, press & journal
If you insist upon cycling from Vatersay to the Lighthouse at the Butt
of Lewis, you couldn’t wish for a better companion than the writer and
broadcaster Lesley <strong>Riddoch</strong>... This is a read-in-one-sitting book. <strong>Riddoch</strong> is
fast, engaging, and funny. More importantly, she knows when her subjects
are also engaging and funny, and is happy to hand the airtime over to
them. It is a series of snapshots, a kind of holiday album. But it is an album
compiled by a fascinated, assertive and intelligent visitor.
roger hutchison, west highland free press
Chatty without being oppressive and informed without being lecturing,
<strong>Riddoch</strong>’s style nicely brings home the beauty of the islands and the charm
of those who live there.
the herald

RIDDOCH
on the Outer Hebrides
LESLEY RIDDOCH

For Elma Morrison, Mary Schmoller, Morag and Neil Nicolson
and other great friends made along the way.
‘The Gaelic Long Tunes’ by Les Murray (New Collected Poems,
2003) is reproduced with the kind permission of Carcanet Press.
The excerpt from ‘The Life of Lord Leverhulme’ by Louis
MacNeice (Faber) is reproduced by permission of David Higham
Associates.
First published 2007
Revised edition 2008
New edition 2022
isbn 978-1-80425-011-2
The paper used in this book is recyclable.
It is made from low chlorine pulps produced in a low energy,
low emission manner from renewable forests.
The author’s right to be identified as author of this book
under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 has been asserted.
Printed and bound by
Robertson Printers, Forfar
Typeset in Minion Pro Condensed and Gill Sans
Design by Tom Bee
Maps by Jim Lewis
Photographs by Maxwell MacLeod, Cailean MacLean, Eoin MacNeil,
Chris Smith and Lesley <strong>Riddoch</strong>
Gaelic proverb illustrations © Laurie Cuffe
© Lesley <strong>Riddoch</strong> 2007, 2022

Contents
Preface to the 2022 Edition 7
Foreword 9
Angus Brendan MacNeil, MP Na h-Eileanan an Iar
Tuppence Worth 10
Maxwell MacLeod
Introduction 13
Lesley <strong>Riddoch</strong>
Acknowledgements 20
Barra to Vatersay the Southern Isles 21
Depopulation, missing women and beach landings
Pabbay not getting to Mingulay 39
Pabbay, Caithness and ghostly piping
Lochboisdale to Daliburgh South Uist 49
Ceolas, step dancing, dating and traditions
Daliburgh to Balivanich Benbecula 61
Gaelic, golf, Transport Ministers and archaeological remains
5

Balivanich to Lochmaddy North Uist 75
Second sight and the power of the family
Lochmaddy to Berneray North Uist 89
Thatching, seal oil, goose hunting and Dun spotting
Leverburgh to Rodel South Harris 103
The MacLeod mystery and the failed fishing
Rodel to Scalpay Harris 115
The big Gaelic music argument, tweed and rain
Scalpay to Uig Lewis 125
Treasure Island and the crofting wind millionaires
Uig to Callanish Lewis 139
Storytelling, beaches, and midnight hippies at Callanish
Callanish to Ness Lewis 149
Bungalows, war memorials, windy arguments and Pygmy Island
Stornoway and Eye Peninsula Lewis 169
The Free Church, ‘Two Ronnies’ and Gaelic
Fifteen Years Later – a Postscript 182
Bibliography 189
Appendix 190
‘Outer Hebrides’ v ‘Western Isles’
6

Preface to 2022 Edition
It’s 15 years since I sat down to write this book, after cycling the length
of the Western Isles for a BBC Radio Scotland series. High time for an
update. I've kept the original events and my own perceptions unchanged
to provide an accurate snapshot of Hebridean life in 2006 – but important
developments are contained in a new postscript.
One development, however, deserves immediate attention.
In 2006, most of the 180 miles we cycled and drove across were owned by
large, private and generally absentee owners, as they had been for centuries.
Since then, an incredible change has taken place – the amount of
community-controlled land on the Western Isles has almost doubled in 15
short years, leaving just a quarter in private hands.
Credit for the historic shift is entirely due to islanders. Motivation
was provided by long years of exclusion. Inspiration was provided by the
pioneering home-grown buyout of North Harris in 2003.
And organisation was provided (in part) by the framework of crofting
which meant local people had worked and planned together long before
big questions about land buyouts were posed. Anyway, the change has been
quietly epic – facts are chiels that winna ding. (The facts speak for themselves.)
Before 2006 cycle
Acres (thousands)
Stornoway (gifted in 1923 by Lord Leverhulme) 69.2
Bhlatos (Valtos), 1998 1.7
North Harris, 2003 62
Aline Community Woodland Erisort trust, 2005 1.6
Total: 134.5
After 2006 cycle
Stòras Uibhist, 2006 93.9
Galson, 2007 55.8
West Harris, 2010 19
Scalpay, 2012 1.5
Carloway, 2015 11.4
Pairc, 2015 28
Barvas, 2016 34.5
Gallan Head, 2016 0.1
Keose Glebe, 2016 1.2
Total: 245.4
So, roughly 75 per cent of folk on the Western Isles now live on community
owned land and Community Land Outer Hebrides is ‘building upon this
success,’ which suggests more is in the offing.
Change has been dramatic because those absentee-owned estates were
dramatically large and a domino effect means each community buyout has
7

iddoch on the outer hebrides
8
encouraged its neighbours. Thus, West Harris followed North Harris in 2010
and – amongst other things – built the beautiful Talla na Mara community
centre and restaurant (with unbeatable views) complete with units for small
local businesses like Flavour chocolate, about which I must try to remember
Tha gu leòr cho math ri cuilm (enough is as good as a feast).
Anyway, the ball is now so firmly in the court of Hebridean community
ownership, that private landowners (like the Galloway family in Carloway)
got on the right side of history by opening up buyout negotiations
themselves, whilst others like Fred Taylor on Scalpay, actually gifted his
land to islanders. Even though progress was much slower on Pairc and has
faltered on Great Bernera, that’s a massive change in 15 short years.
Many of the housing, employment and population problems we
encountered during the 2006 cycle trip were the product of centuries-long
under-investment, land-exclusion and neglect. These ‘stuck’ problems can
finally be tackled now – though unravelling the past isn’t easy.
Building affordable homes and reversing population decline is a slow
business with careful planning and consultation needed to ensure homes
are built where present and future jobs might be. And often that’s not the
old centres of population.
Meanwhile, other factors have muddied the water.
The Covid pandemic sparked a wave of speculative interest in holiday
homes on the pristine Outer Isles thanks to their isolation and natural social
distancing. House prices have shot up, young locals have been priced out
and the islands are suffering the effects of over-tourism, with ferries so
solidly booked locals can’t reach hospital appointments or plan holidays.
Single track roads are quaint with a small volume of traffic, but nightmarish
with hesitant motorhomes or cyclists who won’t pull over occasionally all
summer. Life on the super highway is somewhat easier – most islands now
have fibre-optic broadband. But the population is still in decline – 29,600 in
1991 and 26,500 in 2020 – a 10 per cent fall in the Western Isles against a
7 per cent rise across Scotland. The islands’ population is also ageing faster
than the Scottish average.
The Scottish Government has allocated funds for a £50,000 ‘island
bond’ to encourage families to remain or relocate to the islands (though
that won’t help locals outbid property millionaires ‘fae sooth’). Meanwhile,
women are being encouraged to stand for election in May 2022 after the
Western Isles Council returned only male councillors in 2017.
The number of Gaelic speakers on the islands is still in decline. More than
half the population (14,066) spoke Gaelic in 2019 but that’s down by a third
on 1991. Language learning app Duolingo signed up half a million people to
learn Scots Gaelic in 2020, but it’ll take more than that to save the Hebridean
Mither Tongue. Can the string of community land buyouts help stabilise local
populations and promote Gaelic? Who knows? But there are high hopes – at last.
So Gun cuideam.
(No pressure.)

Foreword
Lesley <strong>Riddoch</strong>, as her company name proudly boasts, is a feisty woman.
This is underlined by her cycle through the Outer Hebrides in summer
2006. By way of contrast, I first cycled round my own native Barra on Easter
Sunday 2015, with just one repeat trip. I have known Lesley for many years
since we both met on the Island of Eigg sometime last century. Lesley shares
with me the feeling that islands are probably the best place a person can live
– but in Gaelic, there is a proverb, Is math an sgàthan sùil caraid. In English,
‘A friend’s eye makes a great mirror.’ I know that Lesley <strong>Riddoch</strong> is just such a
friend to the Hebrides, and sensibly, she is not an uncritical friend. She will, as
she’s demonstrated on radio many times, hold up a mirror that reveals warts
as well as beauty. Her observations, comments and analysis have rearranged
my mental furniture. Her book is ultimately an act of social consultancy – I
don’t agree with everything and she’d be shocked if I did. She is not a Gaelic
speaker but has an awareness of the language’s importance. Which is a great
asset amongst English-speaking social commentators. Because we are at a
crossroads in the islands linguistically.
We have to face up to the fact that we are living in the last area of the Gaelic
language on Earth. Only a minority of children reach school speaking Gaelic but
happily many more attend Gaelic medium education today, as the advantages
of bilingualism are more widely recognised. We must be positive and nurture
all that’s good about our islands to avoid becoming ‘dead end’ Gaelic speakers,
where the vernacular and perspectives of 50 island generations stall on our
tongues. Look at the Faroe Islands – perhaps the most successful island group
in the world with a 10 per cent population growth in the last decade, islands
linked by tunnels, and world leading broadband speeds. Despite this though,
many Faroese see the resurrection of their own language as the most important
driver of progress.
Crofting is also changing. Crofts earn very little but change hands for
shocking sums of money – out of reach for most young locals. Change is
needed, and I’d suggest that one person should not have more than one
crofting tenancy (with perhaps several grazing rights) to democratise access
to land. House building grants should also be divorced from the croft and
become a general rural housing grant.
In 2022 you can finally access the world from a croft. I’m as well wired
to current events in Barra as I am in my Westminster office thanks to BT
Broadband. The pandemic has changed work practices and led to increased
demand for island and rural life. That’s a good problem to have, but only if
there’s room for all – not just the highest bidders.
I’m grateful that someone I admired long before I met her has (again) asked
me to write the foreword to her book. One thing I can be certain of – Lesley
<strong>Riddoch</strong> will always argue a position with the best interests of the islands at heart.
That won’t stop respectful disagreement. But at least the debate will be feisty.
Angus Brendan MacNeil, MP Na h-Eileanan an Iar
9

iddoch on the outer hebrides
Tuppence Worth
by Maxwell MacLeod
A few weeks before my late father’s death at 96 I was sitting talking nonsense
to him, as you do. The nonsense was largely an exchange of family stories,
short ones, that we both knew and loved. He was a darling man and it
wasn’t an easy time for either of us. Eventually I tossed him a juicy worm,
knowing he would gobble it up and respond with an absolute corker.
‘So, Father, you have walked this road of life before me. What’s your
advice on life’s great journey?’
It was a question he had asked his own father in exactly the same
situation half a century earlier. The old boy grinned gratefully for the
opportunity to perform and set off on his riff.
‘Funny you should ask me that. I remember asking my own father the
same question, and he replied that after a long life he had come to only
three conclusions. That it is never wise to cross a fence with a loaded gun,
stand up in a small boat, or do business west of Crianlarich – and I agree,
I agree!’
Lord how he laughed. I tell you this because of that last line.
‘Never do business west of Crianlarich.’
Now Crianlarich lies in the middle of Scotland – so my father was
suggesting that everything that takes place on the Hebridean Islands is a
ridiculous waste of time. The particular perversity of that remark needs a
bit of explanation.
My family have lived on the Hebrides for at least four hundred years,
quite possibly twice that. My cousins still live in the house in Skye that we
came from in 1777. I still have the house in Morvern that we lived in next.
10

tuppence worth
My father, Lord George MacLeod of Fuinary, gave much of his life and
money to leading the restoration of the Hebridean Cathedral on Iona, mostly
using volunteer labour. He had, in fact, thrown away the family fortune by
investing west of Crianlarich. Though I don’t begrudge him a penny.
Part of his motivation for that endeavour was wanting young people
to become immersed in the experience of working alongside Gaelic stonemasons
on high scaffolds as they sang work songs, told tales in the evening of
their love of nature and their lack of materialistic ambition, and then crooned
exquisite songs, some of them written when Napoleon was but a child.
So that was the great side of the Gaelic culture.
But there was another side too.
All his life George had had to fight against miserable, thrawn folk in the
islands who were also Gaels and for whom cynicism or drunkenness were
ways of life. Indeed, when I once asked him where he wanted to be buried
he had replied: ‘Anywhere but Iona.’
Any honest book about the islands must explore the same dangerous
territory without painting Gaels as heroes or villains – they are people…
with stories.
Storytelling, and this book is largely a collection of stories, is a vital
part of our culture. It’s how we remind each other of who we are, and of the
great truths and mysteries. The truths of Hebridean culture are becoming
harder to swallow with each passing generation. The next will not know
the culture that has cradled the islands for over a thousand years.
If such cultural genocide had happened to the Inuit or the Aborigines,
every child in Britain would know about it. As it is, there is hardly a child
in the land who could point to Uist on the map, or say a word in Gaelic,
though most can parrot a dozen words in French or German.
But does it matter a damn?
Well, apart from warning me not to invest west of Crianlarich, my
father would also observe with a sigh, ‘The Gaelic culture is dying and I
sometimes want to mourn it, and sometimes am greatly relieved.’
So when my friend of 30 years Lesley <strong>Riddoch</strong> phoned to ask if I would
accompany her on a journey up the Western Isles, I said yes without
checking my diary. Anything that was in that diary would have to be
cancelled. I would just tell folk the truth and they would understand.
I agreed for two reasons.
Firstly, because I love the woman, and by that I mean that I have an
abiding passion for her. She has such conviction and fire for what she does
that I admire her very deeply, and yet she is sometimes simultaneously so
vulnerable and idiotic that it inspires a deep compassion in me and I also
want to protect her.
We irritate each other almost constantly.
We also enjoy each other’s company. God knows why, but we do.
Several times during our intensely busy two weeks together on our
island venture I seriously considered abandoning her and I know that the
11

iddoch on the outer hebrides
number of times she considered sacking me was even greater. Given that
we were only working together for two weeks, that probably means there
was scarcely a period of 48 hours when one of us didn’t playfully consider
the pleasure that might be experienced murdering the other. In retrospect,
I don’t think I have ever enjoyed a fortnight more in my life.
Secondly, I knew that this is a vital time in the history of the islands.
The Gaelic culture is just about dead and the ‘Resties’ (we sold the house in
the south and bought a cheaper one here, the rest is invested) are arriving
in their droves.
Again this poses the question, does it matter a damn?
I think it does, otherwise I wouldn’t have gone.
Why does it matter? If mankind doesn’t turn away from a global culture
based on competitive consumption, our time on Earth is limited. Here on
the islands we have people who live different, non-materialistic lives that
may teach us something.
Some of this collective lifestyle is based on Gaelic tradition, on religious
tradition, and on valuing family above all else. A small part is just based on
smoking copious amounts of dope.
But all aspects of island tradition are interesting, all worth examining.
And in this book Lesley examines them by using the very technique
that is at the core of Hebridean culture: storytelling.
Through her stories she defines the state of, and to an extent the
potential of, some of these glorious islands and the cultures that they have
created.
Lesley is not only a great storyteller, she is also a great story gatherer.
During her career as a radio journalist in Scotland she has gained the
trust of thousands of people – who listened to her broadcasts, sometimes
shouting at her, sometimes whooping with delight as she dismantled some
prevaricating politician.
It was my job as her assistant to go ahead and find people prepared to
talk to her and it was never hard – often they had been having one-sided
conversations with her for years and were anxious to meet their pal.
I may have wanted to kill her, but I still love her.
Though you mustn’t believe everything she says about me.
The bitch.
12

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lesley riddoch
<strong>Riddoch</strong> on the Outer Hebrides is a thoughtprovoking
commentary based on broadcaster
Lesley <strong>Riddoch</strong>’s cycle journey through a beautiful
island chain facing seismic cultural and economic
change. Her experience is described in a typically
affectionate but hard-hitting style; with humour,
anecdote and a growing sympathy for islanders
tired of living at the margins but fearful of closer
contact with mainland Scotland.
In this new updated edition, Lesley <strong>Riddoch</strong>
examines changes in the island communities she
visited since her first journey 15 years ago.
Luath Press Ltd.
543/2 Castlehill
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Let’s be proud of
standing on the
outer edge of a crazy
mainstream world
– when the centre
collapses, the periphery
becomes central.
alistair mcintosh
Chatty without
being oppressive and
informed without being
lecturing, <strong>Riddoch</strong>’s
style nicely brings home
the beauty of the islands
and the charm of those
who live there.
the herald
FRONT COVER PHOTOGRAPH: MAXWELL MACLEOD
BACK COVER PHOTOGRAPHS: MAXWELL MACLEOD, EOIN MACNIEL, LESLEY RIDDOCH
DESIGN: EILIDH MACLENNAN