Mature Flânuer
Harris: Scotland’s Wild Isle
Why I love this remote place in the Outer Hebrides
Wind and rain blow relentlessly on the other side of the windowpane. Sometimes, when the clouds lift for a minute I can see mountains past the churning waves: that’s the Isle of Skye, back towards the Scottish mainland. I am glad to be warm inside on such a cold, wet day in late July, writing, instead of outside, fixing some farm fence, or grappling with nets, like most of the people who actually make their home on this wild isle called Harris.
Harris is tough. Harris is wild. But also, Harris is beautiful — its white sand beaches seem positively Caribbean. What I like most about this island in Scotland’s remote Outer Hebrides is that despite centuries of human squabbling and exploitation, Harris seems virtually untouched by it all. It remains perfectly, authentically itself.
“Isle of Harris” — ask a Republican to say it out loud, fast.
Yes, of course the inhabitants of Harris are aware their namesake is the US VP and presidential front runner. In fact, the morning we arrived at our B&B on Harris, our host, Alasdair…
