GBP 2850, seven nights. Meet at Inverness.

The three-billion year old Lewisian gneiss that comprises South Harris is some of the most ancient rock in the world, resisting erosion as if its pacing itself for eternity. When they were formed, modern-day Harris and neighbouring Lewis were part of the North American landmass, Laurentia, and the same rocks comprise the Canadian Shield and parts of Greenland today. It was only when Laurentia began to break up 65 million years ago that this area became isolated, eventually to join up with today’s Scotland.

This truly is a land apart, and it feels like it. The island is best know for its exceptional white sand beaches where, on a sunny day, the shallows appear turquoise and inviting, like those of a tropical beach. But one toe in the water is enough to remind us that this is the north Atlantic and that the next day it might hurl a storm at these same gentle beaches and less quiescent rocky shores which smash the surges into spray. Away from the beguiling beaches, bare rock extends for mile after mile, with the flimsiest cover of vegetation. It is intractable, appalling, yet mesmerising. In spite of this, people have made a mark on these islands, creating ancient monoliths such as Callanish on Lewis and taking whatever meagre bounty the land provides. Evidence of hardship abounds, though, which is hardly surprising in a landscape that resist every attempt to penetrate it by plough or by pile. Thwarted hopes echo throughout the history of the island and are present in the landscape in the abandoned houses and decaying cars. There is a poignancy, as well as a beauty, to Harris that provides us with rich veins to mine as photographers.

Enjoy our brochure here.