Photos to follow once we get them out, although there is a sneak preview available on Steady-EDI's website at http://www.rtwman.co.uk/Mini_Reports...ug05_Barra.htm Dave_C has also prepared a superb video which can be found at http://homepage.mac.com/cohendavid/iMovieTheater35.html It requires Quicktime 7 to run.

This is the trip report from a four day trip that a group of FTers made up to Barra, a small island on the west coast of Scotland, which has the only (we believed) scheduled service to use a beach as a landing strip. It's operated by Loganair, as a BA service, and also happens to earn BA miles and tier points Plans are afoot (although now delayed) to replace the beach with a proper runway, and so we wanted to take advantage of the beach landing before it ceased. And as such, this is quite a gossipy account of the entire weekend, and not just the flying bits Hope you enjoy

Thanks to Shuttle-Bored and BahrainLad for assistance with the composition and comments, and those who went for reminders of things we might otherwise have neglected.

Friday 26th August - the adventure begins

The alarm kicked off bright and early at 4.30 am... which might not have been too bad, if Do attendees hadn�t been contacting me until 12 midnight� it was going to be a long day.

A quick drive to the airport and I arrived at MAN, checked in (insisting on business class check-in just because I can � BD take note, force me to use SSCI, and I�ll use a desk), secured an emergency exit and ensconced myself in the DC lounge, where I happily consumed flat coke from the 3L bottles and ate pastries. Flight was showing a slight delay, which was unusual that far in advance of the departure, but not too alarming� Discovered BahrainLad was first to reach GLA on the overnight CO from EWR (or as he put it �flew across the Atlantic in a crappy 757 on a crappy third world airline� � I think it�s fair to say he didn�t enjoy it much, but for us, it was well worth him suffering so we got the pleasure of his company), and told him I�d give him a ring when I arrived in an hour or so�.

Went to board�. �Ladies and Gentlemen, we regret to announce�. At that my heart sank� GLA cancelled, taking us to EDI instead where �a bus would be waiting on arrival� Yeah right. In your dreams. FT training kicked in, and I was first at the gate desk to get the transfer onto the EDI desk (although did not manage to secure an upgrade). And I was first of the GLA passengers to the gate for the EDI flight which was due to depart in 15 minutes� and I�m pretty sure I was the only one asking about EU compensation for cancelled flights . And in the meantime, I started to let the rest of the group know I had a problem� whereupon the suggestion was made from someone who will be nameless that I phone ajamieson because he knows BD ops better than anyone including (as it was to turn out) BD. So I did. And after waking him up he said he�d start some phonecalls� and we departed for EDI�

Fortunately, an on-time flight gave me a small comfort blanket for the transfer to GLA for the BRR flight (Did I mention I was on two different PNR's on two different airlines ). And comms with ajamieson re-started as soon as the door was opened, and I was being assured there was a plan in place, and that he was waiting for me in arrivals� That really wasn�t bad considering I�d only phoned him an hour ago, and woken him up in the process�.

Arrived to find, as expected, no bus. Instead a fleet of cars would take us through. This was relayed to us by ajamieson, who then started organising who would go in the first car�. So myself (identified previously to BD staff as important and recognisable by my �dark curly hair and carrying a toy sheep�), a bemused BD CSD just finished her long-haul flight and returning home, and two random business men found ourselves directed by ajamieson into the first (and so far only) available car. The CSD could not work out why a random stranger, who hadn�t even been on the flight, wasn�t coming with us, but was carrying my bag, and who didn�t work for BD, but knew a lot about them, was organising the transport to GLA� If there was one amusing spot in that, it was watching her trying to work out what the heck was going on�

The FT safety net was completely successful. I made GLA in plenty of time (but 15 mins before EU compensation would have kicked in). Checked in for BRR and went to the BA lounge, where the party had already begun�. Was waved into the lounge by the not-at-all-dragon-like dragon with the words �one of you will have a card for her��

We had two important tasks in GLA� 1) getting everyone in the group into the lounge, and 2) ensuring we had sufficient alcohol for the weekend. The former was easily achieved, thanks to the collection of J tickets and status holders. The latter was critical � too little and well, the consequences were not to be thought of� .too much and the plane might not be able to take off. The bar was set at two bottles of champagne each. GLA domestic �duty free� has probably never seen such a peak in champagne sales. And when the lake was collected, we did wonder if we should use the earlier flight for ferrying over the champagne

The nice thing about basically booking out the aircraft was that we knew it was extremely unlikely to leave without us. And it didn�t� so at slightly after the appointed time, we gathered up all our belongings and, like refugees from the �45 made our way along to the gate. A little problem with gate-checked luggage � gate attendent determined to stick with the rules �But your bag must be tagged before we can gate check it and I don�t have any tags� was resolved by ramp staff who took the pragmatic approach that we were travelling as one group, and BRR is not a high risk terrorist destination anyway.

We were met at the door by the quite cute FO, who told us the seating was a la Ryanair (although he didn�t quite use those words) and we settled ourselves into the cabin for the hour long flight. Some present were reassured by the wood panelling on the cabin walls� this was their natural habitat after all.

The FO gave us the safety briefing... which for once we did all pay attention to. No Jason Donovan videos, no silly arm gestures, but extensive use of the safety card. Then the captain checked if we were residents or tourists (although the collection of cameras and camcorders should probably have indicated which � well that and a toy fluffy sheep who was now happily (and safely) seatbelted into an empty seat, loving every minute of it, but with instructions to his seatmate BahrainLad to hold his hand on take-off as he does get nervous). Having ascertained our status, he handed out a photocopied information sheet (which we later found out he did himself :-: ) giving some information on the plane and the route (would we take the �direct route� or the �pretty route� which were the two identified on the photocopied map?). Our suspense was soon relieved when he told us that the weather was good enough to take the pretty route � following the Sound of Mull, rather than directly over the island

With that we pushed back, and taxied off the apron towards the runways. The airport was quite busy, but we soon found ourselves lined up the crosswind at GLA (09-27) which was a novelty for most of us. This is a much shorter runway, used by mainly GA or turbo prop aircraft � such as ours. Take-off run was fortunately short, although it did feel like we were rolling at around 30 mph when we rotated, just at the runways intersection (I include these details just for the anoraks amongst you, and since Shuttle-bored spent a nervous few minutes after I�d told him if we hadn�t rotated by that point, then we were in trouble!).

We then headed west over the Clyde towards Greenock and from there over Loch Fyne and Loch Awe towards the west coast. The first part of the journey was wet, but as we flew, the weather brightened and visibility cleared and the scenery got prettier and prettier. One of the great things about the route/aircraft is the fact it�s only flown at a few thousand feet � and the aircraft will be manoeuvred to give views of landmarks en route. The captain was great at pointing them out to us (from the Trennish Isles to Tobermory �where Balamory is modelled on�) and it was amazing to be able to see things so well. Muffins were handed around and munched fairly happily, with the bag even being passed up to the cockpit � although in true Airplane fashion, only one of the crew partook probably just in case they were poisoned

All too quickly we could see Barra ahead of us. The Twin Otter swung around the east coast of the island and up to Northbay, for the wide expanse of sand between Barra and Orosay. From the air, the beach looked very wet�. but sufficiently large. And as we flew in, some of us could see seals hauled out on the rocky islets offshore� and then the Oystercatchers feeding on the beach as we flew low over it and gently settled onto its surface� we had made our first beach landing!

A short taxi to the terminal, and we could see Spotwelder waiting for us on the ramp. We rapidly deplaned, and could see them loading the luggage onto the tractor for the journey to the terminal. We left our hand luggage in the security office/departures lounge/gate while most of us went to re-check in for the BRR-BEB-BRR mileage run. Unfortunately, OLCI was not available on this route and neither was PYOBP� instead we were issued with our plastic laminated boarding passes, and asked to check in for BEB-BRR at BEB (I�m reliably informed that never has a BA flight come so close to Ryanair and Easyjet in style ). Through a hand security search (us girlies got a fast track by the rules stating that only women can search women and men men� and there were way more men than women on the flight), and back out to the plane where the crew were delighted to see us re-board the aircraft. After another Ryanair scrum...we all found our seats, although I was concerned that Sheep�s guardian on this trip was not prepared to strap him in or hold his hand Poor Sheep! The exact same security briefing by the same FO which we paid rather less attention to this time, and we were off across the sand again

The flight up was amazing. The sun had come out, and South Uist looked amazing � we flew over the west coast of the island on the northbound leg before circling in to land on the tarmac runway of Benbecula. Benbecula is a vastly bigger airport than Barra � they even have an electric information board. We checked in once more, and were given quaint paper boarding passes. Benbecula has a metal detector, but bags have to be hand searched. Shuttle-Bored randomly selected for a pat down, but it wasn�t too onerous and JimmytheJock selected himself by setting off the detector. We waited in the glamorous departure lounge (but sadly, no champagne or canap�s) to be called to the gate.

When we were called, we�d a walk across the airfield to the aircraft (was it just me or did that seem a long way from the building ) where we boarded once more and took our seats. Our third briefing of the day by the FO (even Sheep was bored by now) and we took off, catching a glimpse of St Kilda well to the west of Benbecula as we went. This time, our captain gave us the scenic tour close to the mountains of S. Uist and over Lochboisdale � again the scenery was spectacular, and it was helped by them rocking the aircraft wings to let us take pictures where possible. Twenty minutes later, a crowd of happy contented FTers were disembarking from the flight, after their second beach landing of the day. It was fantastic again� watching the wet sand getting closer and closer is a really surreal thing to see.

From disembarkation, we went round to the high-tech baggage reclaim facility - a bus shelter like structure on the outside of the terminal with some rollers to slide the bags across on. Our transport for the weekend had also arrived � an N reg Vauxhall Cavalier with 78000 miles on the clock. After some discussion about the best way to proceed, we decided to load all of the luggage into the car and send most of the group round to the hotel by bus.

This in itself proved a bit of an adventure for them, as they caught the bus going in the wrong direction, and had the pleasure of an unexpected tour round the north end of the island. Meanwhile Shuttle-Bored and myself took the car round to find the hotel... which was similarly interesting because it took several kilometres to work out where we were on the OS map and that we were going the correct way. However Shuttle-Bored was fairly unaware of my quandary as he was trying to figure out how to drive a car with no acceleration, no brakes and a first gear he couldn�t find. Nevertheless, we safely negotiated the single track road with passing places to the Isle of Barra Hotel which we managed to find on the first attempt.

On arrival, it looked kind of, well, tired and faded (that would be a kind way of putting it). We went and checked in and they were expecting us, so we took our bags down to our room, to see what it was like before the others arrived�

Having skipped merrily along the tartan-carpeted floor (what else does one do when the floor is tartan??? ), we reached our abode for the next two nights � Room 217. Now, first impressions count, and �interesting� was the first reaction of my roomie Shuttle-Bored and I. Who�d have thought that moss green carpets, white breeze block walls and wicker furniture constituted a �look� these days? That was of course before we got through the door and found the taste-tastic white, beflowered faux-satin bedspreads, or switched on the bathroom light to reveal a bathroom suite which had stood the test of time�. And the window with a large crack in it, but which the hotel obviously had no intention of fixing, as it had been resined over to ensure it couldn�t get worse or fall out.

Having stopped creasing ourselves laughing, we went out to unload the car. Having just finished it, with a pile of stuff behind and on the pavement, one of the residents went past, looked at it and said �You�ll never get all of that in there!� she didn�t seem too impressed when we explained that it had actually just come out.

Just as we were starting to wonder where the bus had got to with the rest of the troops, it arrived and disgorged them into their salubrious new surroundings. We spent the next five minutes playing the delightful game of �Find the champagne� as everyone tried to identify which of the many Glasgow airport duty free bags held the champagne (and possibly other items) they had purchased.

Once this important task had been completed, they went off to check in at the hotel, and the time was spent establishing who had the best room� a prize won by Dave_C as he got extra points for the faux black marble in his bathroom and the hideous flock wallpaper in the bedroom.

For the next few hours we went our separate ways, with some of us taking a pre-dinner stroll along the beach (although the hotel d�cor was a little bit dated, the setting was superb, right on the coast with a beautiful beach at the back door).

Dinner at the hotel was fine � nothing to rave about, but perfectly edible, with some hidden gems (the cockles were fab), and surprisingly, quite a lot of local seafood. And it was a very reasonably priced four course meal, so we can�t complain too much.

And then after dinner, Shuttle-Bored and I revealed the evenings planned entertainment � the first ever FT pub quiz. While not wanting to reveal too much (in case we want to use the questions again), questions were asked and generally answered on the subjects of
IATA airline codes
IATA airport codes
FT general knowledge
Guess the FTer (with some truly appalling �poetry� written for the occasion by Jenbel � although in my defence, we were to experience much worse the next evening)
Identify the airline from the tail fin.

After a tough battle (mainly to get some of them to play in the first place), the team consisting of BahrainLad, Globaliser, spotwelder, QF Hammer and Jane won out, and were awarded prizes of little fluffy toy lambs, whose purchase Sheep had supervised earlier in the day at GLA

With that, much alcohol was consumed, and we eventually retired to bed, somewhat the worse for wear� but not before an experience with a very drunken barman, who obviously took quality control in his job very seriously.

Being a Scottish hotel, breakfast was served at the decidedly ungodly hour of 8-9.30, and saw a selection of states of FTers (from the �not drunk the night before� to the �consumers of Irn Bru very early that morning� (and thank god it works)) creep in for breakfast, which was actually pretty good.

The first plane was due in about midday, with three FTers (GregM and Steady-EDI in for a day trip and ajamieson making his official arrival into the Do) arriving on it, and one BahrainLad hoping to leave. The plan for the day was therefore decided by the executive committee to be a beach party on the beach opposite the airport (we decided it wasn�t really appropriate for a bunch of drunken FTers to be found on an active runway). So with that duly decided Shuttle-Bored, BahrainLad and myself headed off to the bright lights of Castlebay, the islands main �town�. But en route, we decided to drive down and have a look at the island of Vatersay, attached by causeway now to Barra.

Once again the scenery was outstanding � and we found what was probably the most beautiful beach on Barra/Vatersay � with white sands and emerald waters. We also, in true FT fashion, discovered a crashed aircraft (fortunately it appeared to have been there for a while ), which of course we had to take photos of. We also very much liked the habit of putting postboxes in the middle of nowhere (complete with signs explaining that for customers convenience, it was necessary to bring forward the last collection time of the box to 8.30 am )

Having explored the delights of Vatersay, we then hit the big smoke � Castlebay. This centre of civilisation boasted a very small co-op which was the main shop on the island. Despite it being small, it had the random collection of goods one associates with shops which are the mainstay of the community � in addition to picnic food, we also managed to acquire some board games in case the weather turned nasty. The in store tannoy seemed to be playing a rather hardcore mix of Ibiza classics, which added to the surrealism of the situation). A stop by the island hardware store provided cutlery for the picnic (as the Co-op couldn�t provide, which had limited our sandwich options to those we could make up without knives), and we stopped to buy some diesel for the car at an eye-watering �1.04 per litre. We also picked up Bobnick and Helen, who had walked into Castlebay, but weren�t that keen to walk back as it was now raining very heavily.

A quick run back around the island and we were back at the hotel, ready to start taking people up to the airport for the party!

The last carload arrived just in time to watch the arrival of the first Twin Otter from Glasgow. Meanwhile BahrainLad was told he was still on standby for the departure, because whether they could take him depended on the weight of fuel the captain had onboard� once they checked that they�d know for sure.

The next group of FTers disembarked and made their way to the terminal, having enjoyed their flight as much as we had the day before. They also bore a copy of the article ajamieson had written about Barra, the beach landing and us in that day�s Scotsman � previously unavailable on the island as the days papers were just being unloaded from the plane. This was read with much appreciation by the surrounding FTers�. Meanwhile BahrainLad was cleared onto the flight, so we watched him leave us once more, with another excellent departure from the island.

At that point the sun came out once more, so the group was invited to cross over to the other beach to partake of the group picnic. Some invites had to be delivered really rather strongly, but in the full belief that once there, everyone would enjoy it! (I�ll let you, dear reader, decide what particular inflexion should go on that sentence). Indeed so keen was Dorothy to get to the beach, that she decided to attempt to hurdle the barbed wire fence.. unfortunately it was rather more difficult than it looked, but fortunately, while shaken, she was unharmed. (In typical Hebridean fashion, we had to cross a barbed wire fence before reaching the sign welcoming us to the beach!). A quick yomp through the sand dunes, and we came out onto a beautiful Atlantic coast beach, with only the slight disadvantage that it was really rather windy and the wind appeared to be coming from all directions at once, which made finding shelter rather problematic. Nevertheless Spotwelder began to prepare the strawberries, Shuttle-Bored, Jane, and I began to make sandwiches, QF Hammer made an excellent wine waiter (yes the champagne was the first thing opened on the beach!), and various others handed out the other munchies. Despite our best endeavours in the Co-op, it was not the most impressive picnic in the world, as some FTers were at pains to point out, but it was probably still better than what tristan727 got on his honeymoon flight, and it certainly had a great deal of novelty about it! And on top of that, there were still my hand made muffins to be passed around � although the FTer who characterised them as evil and accused me of trying to poison him was probably being a little bit over-dramatic, as they seemed to go down very well. Rather less surprise when telling me how nice they were might have been appreciated though!

Those of us who had brought beachwear decided that we didn�t want to catch hypothermia trying to swim, so discretion proved the better part of valour. However as the champagne flowed freely (QF Hammer missed his calling!) some FTers decided that sandcastles were the order of the day� we do have pictures of an eminient employee of one of the world�s foremost architectural practices on his hands and knees, making sandcastles�

But all good things must come to an end, and a person can only ingest so much sand in a day. The arrival of the second flight was imminent and so we decamped back to the terminal to wait for the flight on which Brian_1, Dave_C�s other half , Pete (Him Indoors) would be arriving and upon which Globaliser, GregM and Steady-EDI would be departing for civilised parts.

Additionally, Spotwelder had to remove his Duchess to BEB, as they would not allow him to depart on the Sunday from BRR, but we were staying on BEB on Sunday night. So he, Mark, jmd and JimmytheJock headed off for BEB, with the intention of getting the bus and ferry back to Barra that afternoon. We watched them depart before the inbound Loganair flight, and then headed back to the terminal to wait.

We didn�t wait long before the Loganair flight arrived � although I do have to say some of us were getting pretty blas� about the whole thing and didn�t even go outside to watch. However, we did get a good view of Pete and Brian_1 (flip-flops and all � was Barra really ready for flip-flops?) deplaning, and met them inside the terminal. We waited for the bags at the high-tech luggage facility, and then one car-load headed off, the rest of us waiting on a taxi to take us back to hotel. Highlight of this run was ajamieson delicately inquiring if there would be taxis available after the bars shut, in case we wanted to go drinking in Castlebay to which our rather aged lady taxi driver responded, in the softest island accent imaginable �Och, you�ll be wanting to get pissed then!� to which he rather shamefacedly agreed.

Upon return to the hotel, we arranged a time for dinner and then the group split up. Some set off to go up the hill next to the hotel. Hills not being my forte, a group of us went over the beach and along the clifftops for a stroll, where we were joined later by some of the ill-equipped hill climbers. The scenery was magnificent, the air clear and fresh, and even though the weather wasn�t fantastic, it was good weather to walk in. All in all a good time was had by all, although once back, we did start to get concerned about the length of time it took the hill climbers to return, but even they made it back eventually, and well before dinner.

For most of the dinner we had the dining room pretty much to ourselves� and then the ferry arrived from Oban, and with it that nights coach party! The average age of the inhabitants of the dining room rose steeply�

After dinner, we adjourned to the bar, where we already had the champagne cooling. Our drunken barman of the night before seemed delighted to have the opportunity of serving so much champagne and so the evening progressed.

And in the way of some FT do�s it quickly descended into surreality. Can I hold up my and Shuttle-Bored�s hands and say we probably instigated it, having got drunk enough to think that some country dancing was in order, much to the bemusement of the rest of the FTers as we Gay Gordon'd (how appropriate ) and then Canadian Barn Danced our way around the very small dance floor. But it was fun!

However, there were several unintended side effects of this� firstly, one of the locals stopped glowering at me like I was a Babylonian harlot (see bible for further explanation) as obviously Babylonian harlots cannot country dance. The more important one for the rest of the group was that the alcoholic barman decided that such public displays should be reciprocated, and so persuaded the 14 year old to give us a display of Highland dancing (imagine tartan and bagpipes for the difference between country and Highland dancing). Unfortunately lacking tartan and bagpipes, the poor lass was made to dance to her grandmother singing for her, a kind of tune that went diddley-dee diddley-dee�. For all too long���� It was also noted by some of the male members of the group that the poor child seemed likely to fall out of her top at any moment�

We daren�t look at each other. This was even worse than piano playing elves (which at least was pleasant to listen to). But we clapped politely at the end� afterall, she was about 14, and at that age everything is embarrassing. However, in our embarrassment, we misjudged our clapping� and they thought we wanted more

Shortly after, she was made to get up, with her cousin/sister/friend/aunt/all of the above (this is Barra afterall) and proceeded to demonstrate some kind of Irish thing.. all the time with the diddley-dee diddley-dee music going on in the background�. AAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

And then the piece de resistance� everyone had complained about my poetry the day before� it was positively Byron-esque alongside the poem that the alcoholic barman decided to honour us with. I�ve never experienced so much horror in all my life as he started a second verse�

Despite his urgings, surprisingly our group declined to provide any further entertainment, and it was actually with a sense of relief that Shuttle-Bored and I escaped out to the car to listen to the shipping forecast. This had been necessitated by the appearance just before dinner of the shipping forecast, suggesting gales in the area on the next day � which since we were dependent upon ferries to get to South Uist the next day could be very problematic.

So as a result, the group had been pre-warned that they might have an early alarm call if we decided we needed to go for the early ferry the next day� and we went out to listen to the 00:50 shipping forecast in the car, sipping our champagne as the wind shook the car around us. And it was as bad as we feared�.



Which for those of you who don�t speak shipping forecast meant that there were going to be storms, up to near hurricane strength (at least to the north of us!).

And on that bombshell, we tottered off to bed��

The alarm went off at 06:30. Somehow, in my drunken haze of earlier that morning I�d thought it would be a good idea to get up really early to see what the weather was doing and if we should make a run for the earlier ferry. Unfortunately, the alarm hadn�t woken Shuttle-Bored so I couldn�t even kick him out of bed to do the investigating� and so I�d to do that whole getting dressed in the dark thing, while trying not to waken your room mate by swearing when you walk into something you didn�t expect to be there. I could hear the rain and the wind outside, but a quick look outside showed the sea rather calmer than expected.

A quick walk outside, and the weather was classified as �vicious� - extremely windy (although apparently an easterly), with horizontal rain. Having picked up the wrong waterproof in the dark, I was now soaked, and I�d only been out for a couple of minutes. I tried phoning Cal-Mac, but not surprisingly they were fortunate to still be tucked up in bed at 7 am on a Sunday morning�.. . I returned through the eerily quiet hotel (trying not to think of The Shining), and back to our room. Having spent time on Fair Isle, which included some very stormy weather when the Fair Isle ferry was cancelled, I was very concerned that the weather was going to be bad� so concerned that I woke Shuttle-Bored for an early conference about whether we should go for the early ferry (the forecast last night had suggested it would get worse before it got better). For some reason, he didn�t seem particularly grateful at his early morning call� [Ed's Note: Shuttle-Bored may not have demonstrated his gratitude at the time, but he is very grateful to Jenbel for her devotion to the Do. He was even more grateful for the ready supply of Irn-Bru which was proferred ] . We eventually decided that getting the early ferry just wasn�t logistically possible� and that if I genuinely didn�t expect the 11:10 ferry to be running, there was no point in trying to make the early one, with all the confusion and rushing which would be required to make it. The plan would proceed per the original schedule, with us going for the 11.10 ferry, and if we took the first group up to the terminal at around the time of the first ferry, at least we�d have a better idea of whether the ferry was running or not.

A quick breakfast, and then the cat herding began. We�d forgotten the Hebridean effect, where words like �rush� �hurry� or �quickly� have no real meaning. Things happen as and when they happen, and trying to get them to progress further is like trying to push water uphill. It was rather a fraught morning. But in the end, we were just about all ready to depart � when we realised some of the group were about to be left behind, and hadn�t even checked out yet A quick re-count, we managed to squeeze everyone who was ready to go into the taxi, leaving our car for the laggards. We arrived at the terminal, where there were a few cars and some other prospective passengers waiting, and we could see the ferry off in the distance, making its way from Eriskay to the Arhd Mhor terminal. As it chugged its way across the sound, the final carload arrived, and we unloaded all the luggage and alcohol that was in it, and parked it up in the car park, where it was to be collected at some point in the future. In typical Hebridean fashion, the key was simply left in the glove box, and the doors left unlocked � afterall, even if it was stolen, it couldn�t be taken far!

The plan was to take the ferry to Eriskay, where a chartered bus would be waiting for us to take us over the causeway and up South Uist to Benbecula, where we were staying at the Dark Island overnight, before flying BEB-BRR-GLA the next day. There were a lot of arrangements revolving around this ferry � not least our beds for tonight, as we already knew the Isle of Barra Hotel was full, having tried to book it previously. So it was with a sense of relief that we watched the ferry approaching the ramp (it was a ro-ro=roll-on/roll-off) and dock. The ferry unloaded, and then one of the crew approached the first car.. we collected our stuff, made sure no beer had been left behind, and started to walk towards the ferry � only to watch the crewman gesticulating at the first driver, and not in a �right lets drive onto the ferry manner��.

A few minutes later it was confirmed � the 11 o�clock sailing had been cancelled, and they would review the 1530 sailing at 1500.

A quick conference with the group, and it was decreed that we should remain at the terminal until 1500, to see if that ferry would go. It was just too difficult, and would take too long to move a group of our size around. However, the discovery that QF Hammer had left his passport at the hotel ( ), together with a review of how much food we had on us meant that a carload was despatched to recover his passport and purchase lunch at the Co-op, which fortunately had been noted by an eagle-eyed Shuttle-Bored to be open on a Sunday. In addition, we were able to bring in supplies for the cyclists stuck with us� and while we waited, the sound of the first champagne bottle being opened was heard� normal service had resumed

The terminal was a fairly newly built shed, complete with toilets, a pay-phone and electricity. Seats were provided in the form of wooden benches. Whilst not palatial, it was at least somewhere out of the wind and rain to wait out the hours. And in true FT�er style, almost every electrical socket soon had a mobile phone or laptop plugged into it� Although as time went on, the full deficiencies of it were recognised� Meanwhile, outside the rain continued to blow through intermittently, but not so much that we couldn�t get out for walks if we felt like it. However the wind was still extremely strong and because the ferry terminal was at the end of a fairly long peninsular, we didn�t exactly have many places we could walk to! Nevertheless, �outside� did offer a chance to retreat from people� even the FT crowd can get a little wearing when stuck in small shed for hours on end with little to do� Particular sympathy should be offered for the early arrivers, who had been there since 09:30

An attempt to establish who was the BA Board Snakes and Ladders champion was abandoned when it was decided that playing Snakes and Ladders actually made a dull situation even worse (although to be fair, I was winning when the game was abandoned ).

Lunch arrived shortly after 12.30 (when the Co-op opened) and offered a welcome diversion. The shopping runners seemed surprised that no blood had been shed in the interim � they�d expected cabin fever to have set in�..

In many respects, sitting in the hut was a little like being stuck in Y on an aircraft: uncomfortable, crowded seating, with not much to do to pass the time, and what was done was done on someone else�s timetable� But soon the FT catering machine swung into action - once again, rolls were made up (lessons had been learned from the day before, and suitable fillings for all the group had been procured) and fairy cakes were passed around. There was even fruit and choccie biccies! The Barra FT Catering Division could give Gate Gourmet a run for their money! More drinks were offered round � the cyclists seemed to be quite surprised to be offered a choice of champagne or beer from a group of random strangers.

Some of us managed to doze for a bit, being woken intermittently by political discussion from other members of the group � but really the seats had not been made for sleeping on either. Mark and Jane decided to go round to the airport, being joined by Spotwelder later � who decided to run there to save some time.

A small group of us went for a seal hunt along the shoreline and blessedly, one turned up. A grey seal watched us inquisitively from the water, no doubt wondering what the heck we were doing. In weather like we were in, they would not haul out like normal, but remain at sea to ride out the storm � this one appeared to have shelter in the somewhat calmer water of the bay, and was happy to watch us as long as we watched him. I initiated the group into the techniques of seal singing� and the seal was entranced and kept bobbing up to work out what we were doing. Eventually we turned back, as the time was fast approaching 3 pm and we wanted to find out what the decision was. To us, the weather had not noticeably improved (except for the rain lessening), but what mattered was the state of the sound between Barra and Eriskay.

There was some activity on the boat when we returned, and we started to see more prospective passengers arrive, including some of the cyclists who had departed to the nearest pub after the cancellation of the 11 am ferry. They had also booked some rooms at the nearby B&B in case the ferries continued to be cancelled � at which news the cyclists who had stayed with us started to worry about having to find accommodation as well. At the same time, we could see movement on the ferry, which had been docked since 11am.. and it was tantalising!

At about 3.15, we started to gather together our stuff, just in case, only slightly distracted by the sight of a semi-clad, sweating Spotwelder in our midst, following his run to the airport. He was a bit put out by missing the seal, and headed off to try and find it � it meanwhile waited until he was gone, and then appeared in the bay adjacent to the ferry dock, so most of the group managed to see it Not surprisingly, he didn�t believe us when he returned � despite our best protestations!

Shortly after, the ferry man approached � his whole demeanour was not positive, and all-too-impatient, this time Brian_1 got to him first before he got to the cars. The news was not good� the 3 pm ferry was not going, and they would review the 5 pm ferry � although they thought it unlikely it would go at all.

We�d had enough � it was pretty much an instantaneous group decision that we would not wait any longer. Shuttle-bored borrowed a working phone, and got to work on accommodation. Fortunately, he�d made inquiries during the shopping run, and had provisionally managed to get most of the group back into the Isle of Barra, with lodging for the excess at the Castlebay Hotel. Arrangements were swiftly made to keep the hire car for another day, and for taxis to take most of the group back to the Isle of Barra � reactions were mixed upon hearing that was where they were bound. Some were thankful to be going back, others were horrified � it was that kind of place

But at least everyone had a bed for the night! Having resolved all issues, we headed off for the Castlebay, and away from that damn hut!

Once more we drove round the island. 5 of us (myself, Shuttle-Bored, QF Hammer, ajamieson and Brian_1) were booked into the Castlebay Hotel in three rooms - but that was what we�d had between us at the Isle of Barra, so not a huge problem.

The hotel was pretty much in the middle of Castlebay, the urban metropolis of Barra, set up on the hill overlooking the village, and of course Castlebay itself. The castle in Castlebay is the historic home of the MacNeill family. It was one of those solid Victorian type hotels, and the staff welcomed us with open arms. After the 1970�s splendour of the Isle of Barra, the Castlebay seemed like the Four Seasons by comparison � the warm cosy splendour of the d�cor of the lobby set the tone for the remainder of the hotel. And the showers were not of a variable temperature which either scalded or froze one, and I managed to have my first shower which did not involve screaming since I�d landed on the island!

We checked out the menu at the Castlebay, and it seemed a little more adventurous than at the Isle of Barra � they served Greek Salads (complete with feta cheese!) for example. Heeding the pleas from some of the inhabitants, err, residents of the Isle of Barra, we agreed to a few of them joining us for dinner. The meal may be a bit more expensive, but it also looked a better menu (a bargain �30 a head for two courses and drinkies ). Having arranged this, and that Shuttle-Bored would go to pick them up, we had a few drinkies and then retired to get ready for dinner.

Shuttle-Bored tootled off at the appointed hour, and we met up for drinkies, whereupon we managed to bemuse the barmaid by ordering long vodkas� queue a search for Angostura bitters! But they were found, and long vodka is very nice drink�

Shortly after the IOBers arrived, after an apparently hairy "six in a five seat car" journey . Our party had been relegated to an out of the way corner, but that was probably to the best, and did keep us out of the OTT dining room. The menu was very nice, and the food excellent. Personally, I can recommend the home-made chips! But there was a great selection of local sea food on the menu, and everyone enjoyed the meal.

Following dinner we retired to a very pleasant private drawing room/conservatory, replete with big, comfy leather sofas. Rather more alcohol was consumed and the world put to rights - even if the room arrangement did perhaps seem set out ready for a seance.... But it had been a long weekend, and sooner rather than later, the group was ready for bed. Spotwelder took the car back to the hotel with instructions to bring it back the next morning for airport runs and the Castlebay group had <ahem> several more drinkies before retiring to bed� with only a few strange noises coming from one of the bedrooms!

Monday was a clear, sunny day, although still quite windy. Which is typical, because it was also the day we were returning (some of us hoped!) to the mainland. This was a little in doubt, as we weren�t sure the weather was calm enough for the Twin Otter to get in. To add to the confusion, we had people going out on the BEB flight (some for a mileage run, others to pick up aircraft abandoned on BEB) before the GLA flights departed again. It was going to be an interesting and complicated morning, not helped by my complete inability to retain any plans which had been made.

Breakfast in the Castlebay was adequate, but again struck with the Hebridean disease� �we�re in a hurry� meant that those who had requested their breakfasts quickly so that they could catch the bus to the airport received them last, resulting in yet another no notice change of plans � I�d drive the laggards (QF Hammer, Shuttle-Bored) around to the airport for a mileage run, come back, finish packing, check-out, refill the car with diesel, pick up the other Castlebayers, go round to the Isle of Barra to collect luggage, and then onto the airport. All in an hour and a half, with the airport trips taking about 25 mins each. Spot the problem. In the meantime, ajamieson had done his usual know everything and everyone involved in aviation in Scotland, and had phoned Loganair to see what the status of the flight was � official answer �On decision, but they�d be surprised if it didn�t go�. For those of us hoping for an extra day, we were a little bit downcast�.

The first group was taken to the airport no problem. It was my first time driving the car, and I was delighted to be able to do a hill start without burning out what little clutch was left in it. It�s been a while since I drove single-track-road-with-passing-places (as most of Barra is!), and I quickly realised what Shuttle-Bored and ajamieson had been going through � the problem with single-track-road-with-passing-places is that one can never relax � you just don�t know when a car/Sheep/lorry/other random thing is suddenly going to appear around a corner, necessitating a screeching of brakes, an assessment of who is closest to the nearest passing place, and an appropriate re-positioning. Added to that was that the car was fine once it got going, but it took a very long time to get going� still, I was soon back into the swing of it, manoeuvring around lorries at 55 with a joie de vivre that drew squeaks from the car occupants (I knew exactly what I was doing, and always had the space and control to make it� ). We got the mileage runners to the airport in plenty of time, and those that didn�t have were able to buy tickets at no notice (minimum check in on BRR seems to be when the aircraft doors are closed ). With time pressing for me at least, there were some quick goodbyes to Spotwelder Mark and Jane, who were going off under their own power from BEB. jmd, QF Hammer, and Shuttle-Bored would be returning to be on the GLA flight with us. Quick sprint back around the island� (noticeably faster now no-one was there to comment) dashed into the hotel, sent ajameison, who was ready, off to refill the car while I flung my stuff into my rucksack and went to check-out. Check-out was of course on a Hebridean timescale, although we did share some nice gossip on the IofB Hotel, whether a new runway would ever be built, the alcoholic barman and other such wonders while we settled our accounts.

We then literally ran back to the car to get back round to the Isle of Barra before the bus, to take people�s luggage from them. ajamieson drove that leg, and managed to overtake someone in Castlebay, get the car into 5th and keep it there, and hit 70 between Castlebay and the Isle of Barra We arrived to find a group of worried FTers outside the hotel.

�Where�s the bus?� was the first question asked... Now I do have to say, our response was a little mendacious, but could be considered acceptable under the circumstances � �oh it�s behind us� we assured them airily, despite the fact we�d not seen hide nor hair of it (although in fairness, I suppose ajamieson could have done while taking the car to get fuel). However our assurance was obviously not as reassuring as we thought:
�There is one, isn�t there?� was the next question, asked in tones of deep suspicion. We assured them that we had checked at our hotel and been assured that there was one � and then asked if they had checked at their hotel� they had. Well, two hotels couldn�t possibly be wrong then! And just as this debate looked like it was heading nowhere fast, the bus appeared in view down the road� Phew!

Having loaded up some luggage, we set off for the airport. All I shall say of that journey is that if I got squeaks, ajamieson got screams�. But despite that, we got there intact and in plenty of time. The car was left in the car park as arranged, and we waited on both the BEB plane and the bus arriving, in the meantime enjoying the best that the airport caf� has to offer. In the meantime, we speculated on the economic value to BA of the passengers about to board, and if a crash of the Twin Otter would have a noticeable reduction in profits (ultimately, we thought not, but it was a nice conceit! ). Both the bus and the plane arrived, and the group was nearly re-united once more for our final journey to GLA.

Once again our hand luggage was searched, and we were given a pat down, before going out to the plane for the usual boarding scrum. The Friday arrivees were delighted to see we had the same captain � he seemed equally as delighted to see us again To our delight ajamieson had made it onto the earlier flight with us, so we would not be seeing his anxious little face peering out the terminal building as we left without him

Once again, the safety briefing was given by the FO, before we settled back for the take-off. Regretfully, I forgot Sheep was still tucked up in my rucksack, so he missed this take-off, a fact he continually reminds me of now. One of the two non FT passengers ( ) made a request that we route via Staffa. The captain thought about it briefly and couldn�t see any reason not to so we did And how many scheduled services do the passengers get to request routings on?

Once again we taxied off across the beach, and in no time at all were airborne, and turning back to fly over the airfield and down the eastern side of Barra. With the weather being so nice, the views were glorious � more seals were seen, and so was the ferry terminal in which we had spent so much time the day before. We quickly left Barra behind us, heading across the Barra Passage towards Coll and Tiree, which we overflew, flying over Tiree airport (although they have a mundane tarmac runway ) before heading south-east for Staffa, over the Treshnish Isles. Tiree is one of the flattest of the Hebrides, and it looked it from the air, but there were some beautiful beaches around it.

Staffa is famous for two things �Fingal�s Cave and the basaltic columns from which the island is made up. Mendelssohn was inspired by his trip to Staffa to write a piece about it (the Hebridean Overture or Fingal�s Cave, which reflects the surge of the sea throughout the piece). The columns are similar to those found at the Giant�s Causeway in Northern Ireland. From the air, it did look amazing � we were able to circle the island, coming in close to Fingal�s Cave at the eastern end of the island.

Then from Staffa, we carried on over Mull � seeing Iona off in the distance before crossing the Firth of Lorn for Scarba and Jura � and the Corrievreckan whirlpool , the second largest whirlpool in the world! Unfortunately, it isn�t a classic whirlpool shaped whirlpool, but looks like a large area of extremely rough, turbulent water when we flew over it. We could just see the Paps of Jura off in the distance, and it instantly apparent why they were named that�

From there, it wasn�t long until we hit the mainland (well not literally, or we would have established if BA�s profits would have been affected), passing some beautiful waterfalls en route. The weather was still gorgeous, so the scenery was still awe-inspiring.

After passing over Lochgilphead and Loch Fyne we continued through the turbulence towards Glasgow � the cabin was starting to get more subdued now, as we realised we really didn�t have long to go on the flight Some discussion over what was the town we flew over on the west side of the Clyde, and suddenly we were holding over Erskine Bridge as we waited for clearance to land (obviously a Twin Otter can�t hold with the jets, so they are just sent off to turn tight circles around the bridge ). Shortly after, we touched down back at Glasgow and taxied back to the stand we had departed from only 4 days before.

As we deplaned we asked if we could get a picture of the group with the crew� the crew thought we were mad, the ground handlers were not happy bunnies (OTOH, some FTers are amazingly blas� around engines ), but we did it anyway. And then we went inside, around the usual BAA exercise walkway (it�s nice they are so concerned about the health and wellbeing of their passengers) to baggage reclaim. Baggage was back fairly promptly, and then most of us went back to check in again for our afternoon flight. I was to try and check-in for an earlier BD flight (despite being on a �65 ticket � Sheep was standing by just-in-case I needed his appealing looks, and so was ajamieson), only to find there wasn�t one, which is why I�d booked a flight with such a long layover in the firstplace! ajamieson gave me a hand down to outsize baggage drop point (I�m actually not sure if it was to help me, or just because he wanted some protection from the scary weegies and didn�t want to be left alone with them ), where we were underwhelmed by the staff�s attitude � �Put it on the belt behind� not even bothering to look up from her paper, except to ensure it was tagged to somewhere.

We rejoined the group and ajamieson said his fond farewells as he departed back to EDI by train. The rest of us traipsed off back to Terraces, where thanks to our own Special Services, Brian_1 they were even willing to absorb refugees from BD. I promised Sheep would be on his best behaviour� although he was upset this meant he had to be contained in my rucksack The group was much more subdued than on the previous Friday, but made just as much inroads into the sandwiches as before The LGW was the first flight to depart � a little bit delayed, but from the gate closest to the lounge, so we were able to wave at them as they pushed back. The LHR departure went next, leaving just JimmytheJock and Dorothy in the lounge, waiting on their BRS departure � I left to go to the BD lounge with the departure of my escort into the lounge to LHR. After the group in the Terraces, the BD lounge seemed quiet and empty (although it is substantially larger than Terraces), and the staff underwhelmed me with their friendliness. However, it was adequately stocked with munchies (macaroons delighted this ex-pat!), and surprisingly still had small cans of juice in the fridge. However the time dragged until my flight was called. The flight was fine, nothing to write home about�quite full and we arrived promptly at MAN. I got my BEB-BRR ticket from that morning refunded (fortunately, we�d randomly booked it in J � prescient or what!) with not a problem at the BA ticket desk, and not even a murmur of the cancellation fee which others had been threatened with (it�s a PSO route, so exempt from such things is our understanding).

And then to my car, and to the long drive back to N. Yorks..

All in all it was a fabulous weekend! ^

(Like the preceeding posts, this one is posted on behalf of Jenbel )

First and foremost, this trip was initiated by Spotwelder. If he hadn�t kicked us, we wouldn�t have gone. Huge thanks to those who organised our tickets in the correct classes, with the correct numbers etc (we know who they are, but if we told you, we�d have to kill you ). Spotwelder also ensured that we all managed to get the most out of flights at the weekend, made the early round of hotel bookings and generally got the project off the ground. So round of applause for Spotwelder

Secondly, Shuttle-Bored took over all of the ground transportation and accommodation arrangements at relatively short notice, and having to try and work out what had and what hadn�t been done so far. High spots in the run-up included a conference call to Castlebay TIC... which was probably the talk of the island until the group turned up in person, and various imitations of Spotwelder on the phone as he tried to work out what had been arranged so far! His meticulous planning, production of detailed pdfs (�it�s in the PDF� became the party equivalent of �Read the sticky� ) and general cat herding abilities ensured that things went pretty smoothly, despite our and the Hebrides best attempts to de-rail them. Even when the weather did its worst, he managed to get us safely ensconced in hotels at very little notice but with a minimum of fuss. And he�d never been to BRR before attempting this� ^

(And he also found the time to come up with the idea for the quiz, and to write most of the questions�. Although unwisely, he did let me continue with the poetry idea. Ah well, nobody is perfect ).

Party on the Beach was brought to us courtesy of Spotwelder fruit deliveries and BA board champagne buyers united� ie Spottie brought the fruit up in his plane, and the board generally bought enough champagne to float a battleship. Many thanks to those who provided supplies for the beach party�.

Lots of people helped out in numerous small ways as well � it really was a group effort�ajamieson getting diesel in the last mad rush to get away� people who fetched carried and carted bags of food and alcohol around from place to place to place�. Dave_C�s video, the Saturday crowd�s offer of yet more supplies being brought on� those who accepted the complete revision of the lifts timetable at no notice� QF Hammer�s photo editing offers (we hope ) Brian_1 providing our own personal special services... those who contributed phones to the common good, depending upon which network was available (BobNick and QF Hammer stick out here but there could have been more)�. ajamieson�s shameless plugging and knowledge of Loganair� Sheep, just for being Sheep�. Mark for organising invaluable taxi services on BRR. Pretty much everyone contributed something, but I haven�t been able to list everything here, and so a big thank you to the entire group for attending, and making the do the special event it turned out to be ^

Finally, a post in my own right!

Great trip report, capturing many memories of a fantastic weekend. ^

Thanks to Spotwelder for the initial idea and concept, and for everyone for putting up with my rather eclectic concept of project management... And a big thanks to Jenbel, firstly for her calmness and helpfulness during the trials and tribulations of the weekend (after magicing up hotel rooms for 15 on a "sold out" island, my travel arrangements for some of the more interesting forthcoming trips seem positively mundane!), and secondly for the definitive Barra trip report which appears above. At just under 10,000 words, I think it perhaps sets a new standard for trip reports, and I suspect the word "(long)" in the title is something of an understatement!

And thanks to everyone who came along, whether for the full fling, a quick picnic or another derivative thereof - all great fun!

Superb! The hotel does sound like one of those that is so bad you can't help but laugh!

I missed a quiz an FT quiz

This is shaping up to be a great read ^

Roll on the next instalment!

(I suppose that last comment will sound silly once the rest's been edited into the reserved slots in the thread, but who cares!)

If only you'd been there Fraser - you could have helped encourage some of our initially less than willing participants, who soon got a little bit competitive....

I was not getting competitive. I just wanted to win, that's all.

And shame on Spotwelder for mistaking the tail of a Air Hong Kong 747 for a Dragonair A330. Pffff....