Nathanael and his friend James by the highest point in St. Kilda<\/p><\/div><\/p>\n

Why I went to the Isle of Harris<\/strong>
\nFamed for being difficult to get to and largely devoid of people, the Western Isles are not everyone\u2019s idea of an appealing holiday destination. However, that remoteness is exactly why my friend James and I booked a tiny cottage on the Isle of Harris. We arrived with our hiking boots already on, ready for days of tourist-free trekking.<\/p>\n

My highlight of the trip<\/strong>
\nDaily boats leave from Harris to the even more remote archipelago of St. Kilda, which we couldn\u2019t resist visiting. This tiny group of islands is a double-UNESCO site, recognised for both its natural and historical value. Hardy Scots lived here until 1930, surviving on the fulmars they caught while climbing the cliffs at night. James, an avid birdwatcher since his youth, was in his element hiking along the cliffs among the numerous puffins, skuas and gannets that live there, while I relished learning about the history of the island\u2019s inhabitants in the ruined village.<\/p>\n

What else I love about Harris<\/strong>
\nWhile we were anticipating amazing hiking routes, I didn\u2019t expect to be greeted with the kind of beaches I usually describe when writing about the Caribbean. I\u2019ll never forget sunbathing and swimming on impossibly picturesque Luskentyre Beach, where I got my most surprising sunburn of the year.<\/p>\n

Traditions are firmly and proudly held on Harris, a place where Gaelic is still spoken among friends and on all the road signs. Religion still plays an important role in the Western Isles \u2013 church is the only place open on Sundays. Both in church and for the rest of the week, we were greeted by warm and friendly locals at every turn.<\/p>\n