The Scottish islands of the west and north are on the edge of Europe. “Beyond, there is nothing – only America.” As they say in the movie Whisky Galore. Good ferry and (often) air links mean many are easy to reach. And all, except possibly Skye, are uncluttered and peaceful.
To get round all of the Scottish islands could take you, uhmm, perhaps a lifetime. There are at least 700 of them, with 100 or so inhabited. (Yeah, that’s more than I thought there was as well!)
So here follows quick descriptions of the main island groups – just summaries that should help you in your trip planning. We’ll work north to south via the western seaboard and be down-to-earth. No tourism brochure language, I promise.
Ready? Let’s start with Shetland. It’s the only major Scottish island grouping that you can’t see from mainland Scotland and has always struck me as not really being Scottish at all.
Its heritage is Scandinavian, its outlook independent and its sense of identity and culture strong and distinctive.
Its most famous statistic is probably that no part of the archipelago is more than five miles (eight km) from the sea. (Though that figure varies depending the source you read!)
It’s great for wildlife, traditional Shetland fiddle music, prehistory and Viking heritage. It’s an adventure. And it’s worth going all the way to the end of Scotland for that view of Muckle Flugga on the very tip of Unst.
I’d go back any time if I could afford it.
Skipping past Fair Isle, the next Scottish islands grouping is Orkney. You can tell by the pages on this site already that we are Orkney fans. Many visitors only get as far as Kirkwall and its environs on Mainland (as the largest island of Orkney is called).
Stunning archaeological sites, great wildlife, pretty good places to stay and dining options, lots of Viking heritage here too.
Orkney is different – and totally captivating. And also windy.
The Western Isles
The Western Isles are these days often referred to as the Outer Hebrides to make them sound far away.
Not so long ago, the top end of this long Scottish island chain – mostly Lewis – had a pretty buttoned-up reputation. There, joyless religious folk would be thundering their protests at ferries sailing on a Sunday, and such-like sinful goings-on.
Whether or not the children’s swings in the play-parks were ever chained up on a Sunday, I am uncertain, though it was a story often told.
Basically, the Sabbatarianism that prevailed in parts of Scotland, say, in the 1950s, still cling on in Lewis to some extent.
However, this wholesome, if straight-laced, characteristic has been somewhat diluted in recent years.
Lewis and Harris have fabulous beaches. The island is a stronghold of Gaelic culture and language – though gloomy predictions are made about the long-term survival of Gaelic in everyday life.
And, among other archaeological sites, the Standing Stones of Calanais are very impressive.
Don’t go at midsummer, as, like Stonehenge in England, the power of the stones – cue plinky-plonky stringed music – attract a lot of alternative lifestyle folk.
Please reverse this suggestion about not going then if you already have an alternative lifestyle, obviously.
Uists and Benbecula and on to the south…
Heading south down the Hebridean Scottish islands, the Uists and Benbecula are extraordinary. The environment of machair (shell-sand flowering meadows) and mountains, linked lochs, causeways and beaches is quite unlike anywhere else in Scotland.
It’s wild, unspoilt, frequented by otters – and I once saw a hen harrier almost collide with a crofter’s washing line in South Uist. Yes, wildlife and nature thrusts itself on you. Otters? You’ll get blasé after a week.
Eriskay, Barra and more
Continuing south, Eriskay is one of our favourites amongst all of the Scottish islands, when the sun shines.
The colours, ah, the colours. And the corncrakes, ah, the corncrakes – and the infernal noise they make all night.
Next, below Eriskay, Barra is fascinating, and the chain of islands runs beyond that, even further than you expect.
It’s 70 miles or so from the Butt of Lewis down to Barra Head at the very end.
Isle of Skye
everyone wants to go there…
Amongst Scottish islands, Skye is the one that’s best known. ‘The Misty Isle’ is a romantic way of saying that it rains a lot.
When it doesn’t, the mountains are spectacular.
There are craft shops, good eating places, a castle and heritage centre or two – but it’s mostly the scenic spectacle that will knock your socks off, at the Quiraing, the Storr as well as Glen Brittle.
Oh, and they say that the view from Elgol, across Loch Scavaig to the Cuillins is just the finest anywhere in Scotland.
(Though the path along the coast gave us the heebie-jeebies, long before the famous ‘Bad Step’.)
It’s just one long geological field trip hereabouts. Rotational slippage, anyone? See it best at The Quiraing, above. There’s a lot more pictures to view, mostly of Sleat, South Skye, if you check out that link.
Isle Of Mull
– An Alternative To Crowded Skye?
Mull is one of the largest of the Scottish islands. Distances are further than they look on the map, as most of the roads are single-track. You do need to know the passing-place conventions and be polite when driving here.
The scenery is sublime, in a green and lush but rugged kind of way. There’s a description of the Mull ferry – Oban to Craignure – here.
Everyone is mad about sea eagles on Mull and you can’t raise a pair of binoculars to your eyes without other cars stopping and their occupants doing the same. (OK, I exaggerate, but not much.)
The choice of decent dining and local seafood is frankly, brilliant. Tobermory seafront is charming.
Most people take in the little island of Iona when they go to Mull, though the road along the Ross of Mull can seem endless. Staffa with its famous Fingal’s Cave is another popular excursion.
Contrasts On Islay And Jura
Amongst Scottish islands, the inner Hebridean Islay and Jura are usually paired together, though one has whisky and a golf course and a woollen mill and geese and seals and beaches and folk doing real jobs not necessarily connected to tourism. That’s Islay.
By contrast, Jura just has a long road and a lot of deer and one hotel and distillery at Craighouse.
It’s wild, rugged, lonely and mostly empty, as if the Highland Clearances had just finished. (At time of writing, there were seven estate owners covering all of Jura. Six of them are absentees.)
And you have to leave the car if you want to go all the way to the top of the island to see the famous Corryvreckan Whirlpool and possibly also the house where George Orwell lived when writing his novel 1984.
(Best to take a Corryvreckan boat trip if you want to see the whirlpool. Lots of options.)
Islands Of Coll, Tiree, Colonsay And More
And some other Scottish islands? Coll and Tiree are another pair, well worth a look. Sands, surf, sunshine on the machair and those corncrakes again. Colonsay is a little gem. Choughs are much talked of.
Out of the way little smudges on the horizon, these places just get on with surviving and mucking in together.
Same applies to the Small Isles, where Eigg and its community buy-out drew a line under the uncaring stewardship that has been a hallmark of too many of these little islands in Scotland’s story.
No space here to describe the personal fiefdoms of rich English industrialists, past and present, such as Sir George Bullough. He, as part of the family wealth made in textiles in the north of England, inherited the island of Rum and built the extraordinary Kinloch Castle.
Rum is now a national nature reserve and the castle a renovation headache.
By the way, talking of nature and islands, there’s a quick summary of good places for wildlife on Scotland’s islands on that link.
Islands of the Clyde estuary and more
Leaping via Gigha (another community buyout success) over the Kintyre Peninsula, we arrive at other islands, sometimes referred to as the islands of the Clyde, that is, of the Firth of Clyde.
Arran is the most popular and the largest of this group. It played its part in the history of tourism in Scotland by giving folk on the Clyde conurbation (centred on Glasgow) a fine attractive island to visit via a short ferry crossing from Gourock.
Doon the Watter…
In their summer fortnight away from the shipyards and all the other now vanished industries of the ‘Workshop of the Western World, the families came ‘Doon the Watter’ in droves.
That’s also why, for example, the town of Rothesay on Bute carries an air of having seen better days – but is quite charming in spite of it.
Its castle, right in the centre, was once invaded by Vikings, and then much later by day-trippers from Glasgow.
But nowhere captures the atmosphere better than the restored Victorian toilets by the Rothesay ferry pier.
Actually, strictly speaking, they are men’s urinals – as ladies have had to make do with a modernised version.
But they are such a popular attraction that they are reviewed on TripAdvisor – and women also sneak in to take a look (I said ‘take a look’), and give them five star reviews.
Lovely walks at the south end of the island. St Blane’s Chapel is our favourite religious place in all of Scotland, if you must know. And we aren’t at all religious.
Oh, almost forgot Great Cumbrae. Level, great for cycling. Nice seafront. Ho-hum. And, uhmm, Kerrera, off Oban, hardly an island at all, as it’s so near Oban Tesco. But it has an interesting castle.
Our Favourite Scottish Islands…
Our favourites? Anywhere in Orkney – just for being Orkney; Eriskay for that special blue you get as the shallow sea laps over white sands; Mull for seafood, and the walks on Ulva; Bute for the ghosts of the generations who came by steamer for an all-too-brief day out.
The one single all-you-need-to know book about the islands is called The Scottish Islands by Hamish Haswell-Smith.
This retired architect and qualified yachtmaster visited every single one of them and did lots of drawings which enhance is very authoritative text. We use the original 1996 publication, but note there is a new and revised edition out now.
Finally, you’d love the beaches of Harris.