Every generation . . .

. . . gone.

We went over to Raasay on the ferry from Sconser today. We wanted to find a path that we had walked many years ago and still remembered. We did find it – after a rather scary drive along a narrow roadway across the island to the other side.

This has to be one of the most wonderful walks in the world. A grassy track with steep rocky cliffs on one side and the sea always on the other, fabulous views across to the hills and mountains of Skye and of Applecross on the mainland. It was cloudy but light and not a breath of wind, the water flat calm, reflecting the light. And quiet – well silent except for the odd birds and insect. (Mind you the Ravens were making a lot of noise as we approached the really high cliffs, where we suspect they were nesting.) Not another person did we meet. A real joy.

But this road holds a great sadness. It was built, properly with retaining walls and a hard surface now covered with grass and moss, as the road to the settlement of Hallaig. But Hallaig is now deserted and only ruins of houses give evidence that it once was. Between 1852 and 1854 the entire population of twelve such townships on Raasay, ninety four families in all, were driven from their homes.

Hallaig is one of the most famous of these Clearances because of a poem by Sorley Maclean. Written in Gaelic, but even in its English translation, it evokes the heartbreak and desolation of the Clearances. The full poem and more details and pictures of Hallaig are here. Along the track there is a memorial cairn and plaque for all the people who suffered in this way.

A beautiful path, but hard to walk along it without thinking of the people who travelled it in the past.

there is only the congregation of the girls
keeping up the endless walk,

coming back to Hallaig in the evening,
in the dumb living twilight,
filling the steep slopes,
their laughter in my ears a mist.

A wonderful day. Our last one on Skye tomorrow and then we go across the water to North Uist.