Tiree- wild camping at its best

Tiree- the windiest place in Britain.

And also one of the sunniest.  Which is fortunate because the enjoyment of a trip to the Inner Hebridean Island is extremely weather-dependent (unless you own outdoor clothing that is expensive enough to create its own sunny microclimate).  With a population of around eight hundred, Tiree has only three settlements and six eating establishments.  Yet it boasts six miles of beautiful coastline, the best conditions in the U.K. for windsurfing, a huge diversity of wildlife and a fantastic annual music festival.  It’s an island to go to if you like being outside.

My boyfriend and I visited in July.  It was my first experience of cycle touring and as we queued for the ferry in Oban at 6:30am on a grey drizzly Friday morning, I was skeptical, if not gravely concerned.  Everything we needed for camping was crammed into four panniers and two rucksacks.  It really was just everything we needed: there was no room for anything we merely wanted- like pillows or more than one towel.

The four hour ferry ride from Oban takes you through the sound of Mull where it’s common to spot whales, dolphins and seals.  We weren’t so lucky with marine life but when the long, flat island came into view the clouds had parted cleared to make way to a blue sky.  Our weekend away was looking up.

After cycling off the ferry we stopped to adjust our panniers’ and were approached by a young, attractively weather beaten man, who amazingly, was looking for me!  I’d emailed Suds (who runs a surf school) to find out about surf lessons and must have mentioned when we were arriving.  He’d bought his van to drive us to Balephuil beach in time for his afternoon lesson!  An hour later we were floating on surfboards in turquoise waters under a cloudless sky.  The sun was shining and from the sea the view was an empty white sand beach bordered by pristine dunes.

Following the lesson (which we’d deemed a great success as we’d both managed to stand on the board, even if only momentarily) Suds pointed out a secluded spot in the dunes, perfect for wild camping.  It was a in a slight dip in the grassed part of the dunes, where only sheep would stumble across us. He told us where the boards and wetsuits were kept; we were free to use them anytime. Life isn’t too regulated in the Hebrides. Sud’s generosity was a highlight of our trip: he welcomed and treated us like old friends, inviting us for tea and showing us around.

When the weather’s good wild camping in sand dunes, miles away from anybody is extremely romantic.  We woke to clear open skies, got dressed in the open air and walked a few paces to the sea for a morning swim.  Life without walls is very simple.  In the evenings we would cook dinner on the beach and drink wine whilst watching the sun set beneath an unobscured horizon.  Only the occasional dog walker ventured as far as where we’d pitched tent but we could literally spot them a mile away.

One evening we trekked across fields to a restaurant. What had looked like a shortcut on the map was in fact an epic journey across bogs and through private fields, which involved crossing streams and passing our bikes over barbed wire fences.   Traipsing through long grass in inappropriate footwear and carrying my vintage racing bike on my shoulder, with the low sun casting long, soft shadows made me feel like a fictional character in a coming of age inde film. We finally arrived at the restaurant, situated in someone’s front room and were met by a broad man in a pinnie.  He beamed at our muddy shoes and bright red faces and welcomed us into his home.  The food was simple, home made and delicious, partly thanks to the view: highland cattle grazed just outside, backlit by a striking sunset over the ocean.

On Saturday night we cycled to the annual Tiree music festival, with tickets sorted out by Suds. The venue was small- the stage, standing area, burger van and bar all fitted into the island hall car park– but that didn't reflect the scale of the event. It seemed as if the entire island population had rocked up.  Several stag and hen party’s had made it their venue, it was THE night on the island.  The first few bands played popular rock tunes but as the sun set the music became more celtic and the dancing more lively.  If you’ve never experienced the musicality of the Hebrides before this is the place to came. It was the first time I’d seen of all ages going crazy to the fiddle and the accordion.   The music got louder and the beats faster.  We all lined up for a huge strip the willow, exhausting ourselves with overenthusiastic swinging and rehydrating with cider in plastic cups. By the end of the night everybody was dancing, drunk and giddy in the crisp night air.  Around midnight the music came to a celebratory, dramatic finale and celtic beats still ringing in our ears we totteringly cycled home with our head torches to light the way.

Eating muesli on the last morning was tinged with sadness. Our four days living in the dunes had come to end and I had the distinct feeling nothing would ever be quite like it.  We struggled to pack our belongings back into the 4 paniers and 2 rucksacks and set off for the ferry.  Our cycle touring had turned out not to involve too much touring- we had stayed in our one idlyllic spot for the four nights- and riding fully loaded bikes against the strong wind was challenging.  As we slowly made our way across the island we spotted the ferry approaching at an alarming speed.  The rest of the journey was a constant moral battle between peddling as fast I could to avoid having to explain to work that I’d missed the only ferry of the day and indulging in the idea of spending another night in our tent, by ourselves on this beautiful island. We made the ferry with minutes to spare and returned to the mainland. 

A few months later my boyfriend suggested we returned to the island with friends.  I was reluctant: I simply couldn’t believe that one small, very flat island could deliver two trips of such blissful freedom.

Tiree- great for….		Not so great for….
ü  Camping on deserted beaches ü  Partying with the locals ü  Windsurfing, surfing, kitesurfing, kite flying….. ü  Crazy céilidh dancing ü  Unobscured horizons (all kinds)		x Badminton, or any game hindered by wind x Fine dining (unless you’re creating it yourself. And are’t restricted by the food selection in a mid size coop) x Anything metropolitan x Cycling very fast