Stuart Blackman experiences ups and downs in equal measure as he tours one of the remotest parts of Britain on a bicycle. I push my bicycle off the ferry, up the car ramp and into my very own B-movie. A soundtrack of thunder accompanies the horizontal rain that quickly finds the chinks in my many layers of clothes. Somehow, I must find a place in this bleak, rocky, treeless landscape to pitch my tent. Lightning momentarily illuminates an inn on the hillside above me. There's a light on inside. I head towards it. I have a quick drink, and the landlord directs me to some fiat ground nearby. Formed three billion years ago, the rocks that compose these islands are among the oldest on Earth. But their geological significance is small consolation when they prevent my tent pegs penetrating beyond the shallow layer of thrift tussocks and sheep droppings. I tie the windward guy-rope to my bicycle and hope for the best. It dawns on me that this week might be a bit of an adventure. In fact, the adventure begins about five hours before you reach Castlebay on the island of Barra. Caledonian MacBrayne ferries are as characteristic of the Scottish west coast as peaty whisky, and the Oban-Castlebay crossing must be a contender for the most spectacular ferry trip in the British Isles.
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