Not an Eagle!

This morning we came over on the ferry from North Uist to Harris. And what a change in landscape! Harris has high ground, in fact it has mountains, high rugged ones. There are also Golden Eagles.

So we would take yet another scary narrow road through mountains to reach the North Harris Eagle Observatory. Not my idea, I hasten to add! In order to reach the Observatory you have to walk. We walked miles 2 km along a track in a howling wind to eventually get to a hut. Did we see eagles? Nope. Why? Too windy. Indeed! So we walk miles 2 km in the howling wind back.

So instead of an Eagle, you have Harris Tweed.

Earlier in the day I had visited the Harris Tweed Shop in Tarbert. I went rapidly through the shop itself, passing caps, waistcoats, purses, bags, you name it! All made from Harris Tweed. I then went into the real place - the warehouse. It was full of rolls of the fabric. A sewer's treasure trove. Each roll or bolt has a label with the name of the weaver, as the genuine Harris Tweed has to be woven in the Hebrides by individuals in their own homes. The warps are set up in mills and then delivered, together with the bobbins of yarn for the weft, to the weavers.

I bought a few lengths of some of the fabrics; there was an awful lot to choose from. Now I just have to decide what to do with it. The purchase should inspire me to find the time to get the sewing machine out and get stitching. A much preferable activity to walking in a gale in the hope of seeing an Eagle, I would say!

Tomorrow we have a day on Harris, but it is Sunday, so nothing will be open (and we mustn't hang washing out).

We have limited access to wifi at the moment, so don't worry if you don't hear from me. We'll be home on Monday and I will catch up with everyone then.