Heathen Photographers Racing, Fighting, Rebelling and Spoiling The Spiritual Sunrise

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We had decided that we would head to the Standing Stones for sunrise today, which meant meeting even earlier as it was considerably further to drive and we would need to be there ready for the sunrise. We had heard that the other photography group were going there also, so we started to get competitive as we wanted to get there first to get the best spots. There are no principles, good manners or etiquette when it comes to photography. Maybe it will be cameras at dawn after all.

The sky was very clear and we were able to spot some of the constellations given the low-levels of light pollution here. I say "we", but it was this one guy in our group pointing them out, as I wouldn’t know one constellation from another.

We got there first (and the headlights following closure behind us turned out to not be the other group). Apparently, apart from photographers, there is usually no one near the stones this early in the morning, but we were in for a surprise.

We had been beaten to it by an all-female group of druids / stone worshippers / spiritualists / hippies (we didn’t ask them what they were called) who were already there and were busy hugging the stones, dancing and waiting for the sunrise. I need to look and find out if there is any spiritual significance in 28 September. I could understand 21 September as the Autumn Equinox, but, maybe, they had been there each morning since then.

I suppose they were there, appreciating the peace and feeling at one with the stones and then these obnoxious, loud and unsophisticated photographers turn-up, start erecting their tripods and ruin the whole experience. And if that wasn't bad enough, another group turned-up and we all started arguing about the best spots, disagreeing about where the sun was going to rise and staking their territories with their tripods.

In fact a lady in a hood and cape sauntered over to us and asked us to keep the noise down. The photography lead from the other group made a deal with her that we would keep the noise down if they stayed behind the stones so not to ruin are photographers. A truce was declared and everyone was happy. The photography alliance (we had united against the common foe at this point) and the spiritualists were all happy.

We did need to work around the odd dance though, but their mystic instruments did add to the atmosphere of the experience as the sun started to rise. I think the sun gods were punishing us though for spoiling the energy of the occasion as the clouds came over and the sun was nowhere to be seen.

We went back to the hotel for breakfast, where I felt that I had earned a 'Full Scottish', which is exactly the same a 'Full English' as, strangely, it didn't include haggis, which should probably be given a try. Even more strangely, it did come with black-pudding, which I didn’t think was Scottish, but, either way, I asked for it to be excluded.

The plan then was to head across to Scalpay Island, which is connected to Harris and Lewis by means of a modern looking bridge. We stopped at a few places for some more photographs of the derelict croft houses. There was one very photogenic looking house, with a bright red roof, so we stopped there and all went about photographing it. Whilst no one came out to ask what the hell we were up to, it was evident that this house was actually lived in. What really pushed it though was that we finished our lunches and then left all our rubbish in their bin. Bloody photographers!

We also briefly stopped at a former post office, with disused red phone-box outside. The counter and all the other post office paraphernalia was all still inside, many years since abandoned, along with a long dead sheep.

There is a lighthouse on Scalpay, but the weather now was (unbelievably) "too nice" as it would need more drama in the sky. Photographers are very rarely satisfied with the weather so we decided to leave that for another day and headed back across the bridge.

Back at Tarbert, there was a photography rebellion (if there ever was such a thing) and we all decided to stop for a coffee at the Isle of Harris Distillery. For some unknown reason, I decided to have an iced coffee, which was madness as I had not yet warmed up from being outside taking photographs. It went down very nicely though. The others thought I was clearly mad.

Weirdly for this part of the world, this is actually and rather unexpectedly, a gin distillery. Apparently, however, they have started making their own whisky, but the first batch is still several years from being ready. One to look out for in whatever remains of the 12 to 15 years (or longer) that are required for a fine Scotch whisky to reach its potential.

An apparently well-known Hebridean Baker was also there promoting his latest cook book.

There is a road on the Isle of Harris called the Golden Road, apparently due to the cost of building it, which provides access to a number of small, remote (to put it mildly) and previously inaccessible hamlets. Despite the cost, it is not what you would call a major highway, with most of it being single carriageway. With the exception of the main road to Stornoway along the centre of the island, most of the roads on Harris and Lewis are single carriageway. That said, they work a lot better than they do in England as the roads are long, straight and clearly visible (there are no literally no trees), but, most importantly, the drivers here are extremely polite. Whoever gets to a passing space first with stop and wait and both drivers will thank each other as they pass. There are no Audis here, obviously.

The only problem is the sheep, which are everywhere. They think they take priority over everyone and have very little intention of getting out of the way. We had some trotting along the middle of the road in front of us, moving over at their leisure so that we could get past.

Much to the disapproval of our lead photographer, we decided to have a 'best picture of a sheep' contest with daily and then overall winners. More photography rebellion, I'm afraid.

We finished our day of photography at Scarista beach where there was a good sunset. Needless to say, I got my feet and legs wet from the waves, which would deliberately and maliciously come up behind me whilst I was concentrating on my photography. I wasn't the only one though.

One of the other photographers had a drone, which she was flying around over the beach taking photographs and video. I have never seen the appeal, but I was starting to be very tempted, not least because you can stand well back with no risk of getting your feet wet or hit by a huge wave (see Covered by a Wave and Sandblasted).

I was actually feeling a bit of a light-weight today due to all the early starts, so I decided to skip dinner and have an early night. Of course that did mean that I would miss out on the Oreo Cheesecake this evening, unless I can persuade the hotel to deliver some to my room.

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Photos

Callanish Standing Stones
Sharing the stones with the spiritualists at sunrise.

Full Scottish
But no haggis and minus the black-pudding.

Iced Coffee
During a photography rebellion.

Gin Distillery
Strangely for a Scottish distillery, they make gin.

Hearach Whisky
Some whisky is on the way.

The Golden Road
Is that it?

Walking Sheep
No, we're not getting out of your way until we're good and ready!

Disused Post Office
Sadly, complete with a dead sheep.

Scalpay Croft Cottage
Abandoned cottage here also.

Red Roof Cottage
Not abandoned, but we liked the colours.

Scarista beach
A bit of a sunset.

Scalpay Bridge
The bridge linking Scalpay to Harris and Lewis.