You mainlanders simply don’t understand how challenging travel can be for those of us who live on the islands.
If you wish to visit relatives anywhere in Scotland, all you have to do is jump into your car or hop onto a train, and bob’s your uncle. For us, it is a nightmare.
Our choice is simply to go by ferry or by air. The ferry service has been reduced by uncaring politicians to an unreliable joke of a service, as everyone knows, and to fly feels like you have to take out a second mortgage. With astronomical air fares, no one is fighting our corner in parliament.
If only a brave fighter like the MSP, Fergus Ewing, who’s always happy to take on his own party in government, could be persuaded to take up residence here.
The veteran politician rightly took up the disgrace of the slow dualling of the A9 and managed to extract proper commitments from the Scottish Government. That is why the ferry network is shambolic. We have no-one to demand action.
Scottish islands travel is becoming less reliable
Sadly, we can see Caledonian MacBrayne fast becoming even less useful.
Tone-deaf transport minister Fiona Hyslop is busy levering some of the most unsuitable placemen in Europe onto its board.
These favoured faceless flops know nothing about the islands they are supposed to service. Some have never been here. They don’t care. They don’t need to worry because Hyslop will take care of them.
Yes, we all know there will be an investigation after the next election, but, meanwhile, islanders suffer.
It is not just the cost we suffer. Because of the distances, we must plan everything.
For example, Mrs X and I decided to go to Edinburgh the other week. How would we go? How long would it take to get there? I phoned Loganair and asked: “What’s the flight time from Stornoway to Edinburgh?” The call handler said: “Just a minute…” I replied: “Wow. That’s impressive. Thank you very much. Goodbye.”
Timing is crucial when it comes to catching ferries and planes. Which reminds me that the clocks went back on Sunday. Thank goodness for that. At least the clock in my van will be right for the next six months.
Driving back from Edinburgh the following week, we arrived at the ferry terminal Uig on Skye in good time. Then we noticed that a driver of a car ahead of us had discovered a puncture.
That was when Mrs X said: “I have an aerosol inflater in the back. I’ll give it to that poor guy.” She then rummaged in the back of the Berlingo, muttering about whoever who had so badly packed the cases. That would be me, but don’t tell anyone.
“I’m going to have to stack these cases to get at my toolbox,” she moaned. I’d no time to go and assist as she quickly wheeched a big, heavy case on top of another. She then reached for the inflator, but the gravitational pull on that big case was too much.
It slid back down, gathering pace as it fell and whacked Mrs X amidships. I didn’t see it happen so I was unaware. It was only when she waddled over and gave the poor motorist the inflator and she waddled back that I realised something was amiss.
‘Why are you walking funny?’
It probably wasn’t the best time to say: “Why are you walking funny like that?”
If she could have reached a heavy tool, I’d have been in mortal danger. She was in agony. And she still is. She has badly-bruised ribs and has been told the pain could last for weeks.
She still can only rest or sleep when dozed with extra-strong painkillers. When we came back, her diary was pretty full so she had to get back to being a photographer telling wedding guests to say “Cheese”, while she is almost doubled-up with severe pain.
At first, we were supposed to be in Edinburgh for the madness that is Black Friday. Oh, that’s tomorrow. If we had been, excessive spending would have caused me a lot of pain.
It’s not just me that’s not good with pain. Women, for example, are likely to come up against painful situations which we men just don’t have to deal with. Some of them are in places like Uist where doctors often are qualified in more than one specialism.
You may sometimes find that a doctor can also be a dentist, for example. I heard recently about a Uist woman who went to see one such doctor as she wanted a tooth extracted.
She told him: “No drilling. I’d rather go through the pain of childbirth again than let you drill in my mouth.” He replied: “Well, please make up your mind so I can adjust my chair.”
Iain Maciver is a former broadcaster and news reporter from the Outer Hebrides
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