Barra is a small island. It only has one road.The Annual Show took place at Barra Community Hall on Saturday, when the locals show their produce, win prizes, then auction off the goods.
I was talking to the local physics teacher, Robert Ross, whose daughter Patricia gave me this die. Actually I was the only mug who would take it, after she tried to palm it off on her father and on her father's friend.
It now sits in my van, as a Hebridean tribute to furry dice. It turns out the Hebrides don't need a tribute to furry dice, as they still have plenty of real furry dice still. Photos to follow, if I see one that isn't moving.
Left Barra to drive up the Uists. Didn't see any Otters, despite the warnings.
I'm holed up in a hotel bar in Lochmaddy, North Uist, as a Force 12 gale rages outside. Even the locals are commenting on how windy it is. All the ferries have been cancelled, so I'm stuck here for the day.
Fabulous surf on the west side of North Uist yesterday, big Atlantic rollers with beautiful green walls. I know it was at least head high, as I surfed down the face of one great wave and looked up at the green wall of water looming above me.
Becca and Ann are following the same route as me by bike. They're mad.
So I shared my lobster with them. It was called Rita, after the Latvian woman who sold it to me.