"directed"--you go somewhere with someone, at someone else's timetable, you follow someone else's directions. All safe, all secure. But with Make Tracks you can follow their instructions or not follow them; it's completely up to you. Apart from the one hike on North Morar where I had to be at the harbor in time for the return ferry, I could hike as quickly or as slowly as I wanted. I could get lost, sweat and worry and then, relying on my own resources of compass and map, find my way back. I never thought of myself as an adventurer and yet when I think of how I devoured Nancy Drew mysteries and read Girls Own annuals and envied the adventure these fictional characters had I realize it was always deep inside of me. This time in the West Highlands has meant almost total freedom. No ads screaming at me to do this or that, to buy this or that. In Mallaig I chose whether to have dinner or not, whether to buy a sandwich for lunch or just snack on trail mix. On Eigg, Mairi Carr provided full board and her cooking was a delicious reward for miles and hours of walking. I occasionally saw people on my hike but we would pass each other by with a brief "hi, how are you doing" each concentrating on where we were heading.
There are no signs once you leave the pier and you have to know how the tracks work--i.e., bits of paint splodged on fence posts, rocks or sometimes on the track itself. As I've said before, it's easy for a city or town dweller to get confused between a people track or a sheep/cattle track. (That's true of the area around Maillaig as well though.) Only one tea shop down at the pier; no tea shop at the beautiful Singing Sands; just the Sands. Thank goodness.
The exception to my "solo hiking" was this morning. At breakfast Helen, of Helen and Barry the couple from Edinburgh, said she wanted to find the Cathedral and Massacre Caves. Barry wasn't up to it because of his crutches so I told her I'd come along with her and make one final attempt to find them. So off we went. Mairi had told us to take a different route than I'd taken the day before but as we toiled up the steep road it seemed we were walking away from the cliffs, not toward them, and I feared that we were lost again. We met a fellow just leaving his house and, when we asked him about the caves, he said that he and his collie would be happy to lead us to the right pathway.
He was very chatty, telling us that he reckoned that Beowulf (?) was actually set on Eigg and not in Norway. We hardly got a word in edgewise as he marched us down the hill toward the cliff. He left us at the gate leading down to Cathedral Cave with detailed instructions on how to find each. And he was spot on.
Cathedral Cave is larger and easier to find. It's so named because it was once used for Roman Catholic services when such services were banned in the 18th century.
I doubt that the cross that was inside the cave dated that far back but it made a nice touch. We had to be careful scrambling over the large rocks. This photo is deceptive as the flash illuminated the cave; it was much darker inside but not as dark as the Massacre Cave.
Even with John's detailed instructions, we had difficulty locating the mouth of Massacre Cave. It was a very narrow opening and even at 5'3" I had to stoop quite low and enter the cave almost at a crawl. I took this photo looking back at the opening. John had warned us that we would need some kind of torch to actually see anything and he was right about that as well. Helen had a very small torch that only gave off a weak, pinpoint light so I found myself groping my way along the cave wall and after only about 10' the atmosphere got to me and I told her I was going to turn back. And the history of Massacre Cave? Well in the 16th century, there were about 400 inhabitants on Eigg, mostly MacDonalds, who would periodically go over to Skye on raids. On one such raid they killed and wounded a group of MacLeods who days later set sail for Eigg seeking vengeance. The islanders, learning of the approaching MacLeods, hid in the cave, which is apparently very deep.
When the MacLeods landed, they met only one islander, an old woman who refused to tell them where the others were even though they burned her house and slew her animals. Frustrated, the MacLeods prepared to sail away. And this is where the islanders made their fatal error. Wondering if the MacLeods had left, they sent a scout out of the cave to climb up the cliff and take a look. It was winter and there was snow and the MacLeods, looking back from their boat, saw the scout clambering up the cliff from the cave. So they returned and, trapping the islanders in the cave, they built a large bonfire at this, as you can see, very narrow entrance. The smoke filled the cave and all of the islanders died. Except, I suppose, the old woman.
It is a very dark and difficult place. We both felt, standing in the dark with only the camera flash and Helen's fading torch to throw some light, a kind of sadness that still seemed to hang there. I, as a Campbell, also wondered why so much is made of the Glencoe massacre while few people, outside of those who visit Eigg, ever hear about this, far worse, massacre. I suppose it was because this was simple clan warfare as opposed to Glencoe which has come to be associated--I believe erroneously--with a violation of Highland hospitality. It was far more complicated than that.
At any rate, you can see from my relieved smile, that I was glad to head back to the cave opening.
We arrived back at the pier with about 20 minutes to spare before the ferry arrived to take us back to Mallaig. Some last photos of Eigg and the journey back to Mallaig:
The ferry stopped at Muck; a lovely-looking island. Perhaps I'll get there next year.
We saw seals on the rocks in the distance.
Goodbye small isles! And back to Mrs. Watts' for a good night's sleep, ready for my final hike tomorrow.
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