The Callanish/Calanais stones

In 2018 I was lucky enough to be offered the use of a weaver's cottage on the Isle of Harris for a week. As it happened, I had a novel to finish and deliver to my publisher and I figured that a week of Hebridean peace and quiet would give me the time to do so. 

How wrong I was. 

The Outer Hebrides are so full of fascinating things and beautiful wild spaces that I barely wrote a word. Take the beaches, like this one at Seilebost. The sand is golden, the landscape looks like a Roger Dean album cover, the waters are Caribbean clear (though not nearly as warm, sadly) and angry-looking sheep glare at you.

The there's the curious small island of Scalpay that you reach by bridge and which boasts a concrete ship in its harbour.

I did a bit of research into this oddity. I knew that the British military had dabbled with the idea of aircraft carriers made from icebergs during WW2 (see here) but concrete was a new one on me. But why not? It's cheaper, lighter and more readily available than steel. This particular 180-foot-long barge - named the Cretetree - was built from steel and ferrocement by the Aberdeen Concrete Shipbuilding Company. It was launched in 1919 and its working life - hauling iron ore - lasted until 1953. It was then towed to Scalpay harbour where it is now permanently moored and used a fishing-gear store. 

There's much more on concrete ships, if you're interested, here. 

Then there are the Black Houses of Lewis with their weaving huts. And more sheep.

     

But star of the show was, of course, the stones at Callanish. I'd been before but that was in Winter when it was dark by mid-afternoon and I couldn't really get any decent photos. This time it was mid-Summer (though that meant 16c on Lewis while my neighbours at home on the Chilterns were sweltering in the mid-30s).

Callanish (or Calanais in the first language of the islands) consists of a circle of thirteen stones with a monolith near the middle as well as a chambered tomb. Five rows of standing stones connect to this circle. Two long rows of stones running almost parallel to each other from the stone circle to the north-northeast form a kind of avenue. In addition, there are shorter rows of stones to the west-southwest, south and east-northeast. The stones are all of the same rock type, namely the local Lewisian gneiss. 

Numerous other ritual sites lie a short distance away including at least three other circles, several arcs, alignments and single stones; many visible from the main site. The most impressive secondary sites – named Callanish II and Callanish III – lie just over a kilometre southeast of the main site, and originally consisted of circles of at least eight stones or more. The existence of other monuments in the area implies that Callanish was an active and important focus for prehistoric religious activity for at least 1500 years. Historic Environment Scotland states that the stones were erected roughly 5000 years ago, pre-dating Stonehenge. 

Here's a view of the main site from above and, as you can see, it's almost laid out like a Celtic cross.

Image: Christopher Gatelock (watch a fantastic drone video by Christopher here). 

As I said before, this wasn't my first trip to Callanish. Back in 2006 I was a police officer seconded to the UK Home Office and working with the Scottish Parliament on a series of community-based initiatives. One of the places I visited was Stornoway, Isle of Lewis. 

I also mentioned that it got dark very early in Winter. I know the exact date I arrived was Sunday November 5th because I'd been surprised by the lack on fireworks. When I mentioned it I was told, 'Not on a Sunday! Nothing happens on a Sunday!'. I suppose I should have been warned when, during my flight from Glasgow Airport, the pilot told me that we might not be able to land as the local Presbyterian ministers made a habit of standing on the runway to prevent planes landing on the Sabbath. It's also why I had to wait nearly two hours for a taxi between the airport and my hotel because the only driver who'd come out on a Sunday - an Englishman - was having a nap after his dinner. 

Anyway, I digress. 

I mentioned to the leader of the council that I was sad not to get a chance to see Callanish. He then volunteered to take me there on the Monday evening after work as there would be a full moon that night and it would look fantastic. As it happened it was a bit cloudy, but I still got a sense of the place even in the dark.

It was only later, when safely back in my hotel room that I realised that here I was, a mainland police officer visiting a remote Scottish Island, and I'd been driven to an ancient pagan site by the head of the council ... 

How differently things could have turned out.