Macc and Other Islands

‘The slops of Heaval tumble down to Castlebay, across the harbour to neighbouring Vatersay, then on to the archipelago of islands that peter to the point where Scotland runs out. The names – Sandray, Pabbay, Mingulay, Berneray – trip off the tongue, spilling headlong to the fullstop that is the lighthouse at Barra Head.’

Not all the islands are the traditional variety – some entertaining definition-bending has gone on – but Macc and Other Islands is vintage Wilson, a stimulating brew of lyrical and satirical, with chasers of the unexpected.

‘I once nearly jumped on an eagle. It was hidden under the cornice of a peat hag, feeding on a dead sheep. I, late for my rendezvous, was running down the hillside, vaulting down the smaller eroded steps. The eagle must have been only aware of me at the last moment because as I took off, so did it. It was one of those slow motion moments that film-makers indulge in.

And there are chirping rabbits, clingfilmed whisky, vengeful collies a disappointed bridge …'

In Macc and Other Islands, Graham Wilson explores some of the remotest, most spectacular parts of Britain — the Hebrides, Orkneys and a couple of deserted Atlantic outposts. Landscapes, people and snippets of history are recalled with wit and affection: Rum, Eriskay, Mingulay, Jura, Sula, Arran, Hoy, Skomer and, above all, Barra.

Reaching even the inhabited islands is not always straightforward, especially if you forsake the car for the sake of the planet, are encumbered by a young family and have rashly decided to revisit scenes of summer pleasure in the depths of winter. Other islands, like Sula, are only visited by those driven by religion, ancient tradition or economic need.