Walking the Western Isles - Preface and Apologies for the Gaelic

It was my wife’s fault.  Shortly after her sixtieth, she announced that we should each have a ‘Seventh Decade List’ – not a ‘Bucket List’, but a list of the things we’d each like to do before seventy years of age rendered us incapable of doing them.  It didn’t take a moment for me to know what would head my list, but it was something that was too easy to defer, at least without a fellow conspirator to share my enthusiasm.  So, it was my wife’s encouragement that was also essential for my aspiration to become an active endeavour.

Long distance walks offer a known daily objective, while enjoying each day’s experience and accomplishment.  On a map of the British Isles, nothing had stood out clearer to me than the Outer Hebrides, or Western Isles, for a continuous chain of walks, south to north.  Previous visits had given me an appreciation and respect for their beauty, dramatic lighting and quickly changeable weather.

This tale is an account which might be read from an armchair while the reader employs their imagination.  Alternatively, it could be read, "blog" in one hand and 1:25000 Ordnance Survey maps spread out and studied, perhaps even with a compass, so that the map fills in more details, about my route and the shape of land and sea, than I could in my account.  Or better still, it could be taken to Hebridean locations, to share in parts of my experience and meld them with one’s own.  

A word of warning, though.  If you use the OS online mapping at osmaps.ordnancesurvey.co.uk, I've found the grid references may differ by up to 200 metres from those on the OS paper maps that I've used.

My path was one to suit my own idiosyncrasies, my age (63 years), the time of year (May) and the capriciousness of the weather.  I had no wish to follow “The (signposted) Hebridean Way” through the low routes; no wish to follow a way-marked route or follow the easiest path or track.  My ambition was to travel through the less accessible, more remote places and gain the best vistas.  I did my homework, read other accounts and route suggestions, studied the maps, planned how each day could be linked into a whole transit of the isles, and then did my own thing.  I regret few of the choices I made, but if I were to repeat this journey, I'd make a whole store of different choices, finding alternative sights and experiences and selecting my best route choices depending on the weather.

I'd chosen the month of May, fitting in with other constraints, but also believing May was most often (but not necessarily reliably) the best month for least rainfall.  The downside to visiting any of the north-west before mid-summer is that the landscape may be lacking in the colours of new growth and the hills may look rather Autumnal in colour.  The machair on the Outer Isles really comes into bloom in July and August. 

Apologies
I have found myself using both Gaelic and Anglicised spellings - an inevitable consequence of learning place names decades ago when Bartholomew and Ordinance Survey maps had predominantly Anglicised spellings, but now navigating with the current O.S. Explorer maps (with predominantly but not totally Gaelic spellings). I suspect that whichever spelling I have used will be to the dissatisfaction of some, for which I apologise.  Also, apologies for swapping  between alternative spellings of the same place, wherever that may have occurred.

Hesitant Observations on Gaelic and Local Pronunciation
I have very little knowledge of how to avoid abusing Hebridean Gaelic pronunciation, and although I have read various guides for the English speaker to grapple with pronunciation of Gaelic, these have been by native English speakers.  I would appreciate advice and correction by first language, Gaelic speakers from the Isles.

I suspect the biggest hurdle, before managing to make blunderingly poor, but perhaps recognisable attempts at Gaelic place names on the map, are "bh", "ch", "dh", "gh", "mh", and "th".  

I have noticed that the Gaelic that I have heard from long-term residents on the Western Isles has quite a lot of soft, tuneful, breathy sounds, in particular for consonants followed by an "h".  One younger islander informed me that an "h" after a consonant indicated that letter was silent.  Listening to older locals using Gaelic as their first language on buses, gave an impression of a soft and tuneful wind blowing through the trees. To my observation, the time occupied by a consonant followed by "h" still existed as air breathed softly humming through that letter's mouth formation with no interruption of the air flow.  I wonder if there is a difference when the speaker is in no hurry with their conversation.

eg. Like the "gh" in through, in English, the "gh" in bagh, in Gaelic, sounds much like bay (but more breathy at the end), which is what it means and to which it is Anglicised.

Other soft sounds:
bh - like a gentle "v" (but may have been made by blowing between two lips that do not meet, rather than top teeth and lower lip for a "v").

ch  - as in "loch", sounding much like lohhh, except that the "hhh" is higher in the throat, where a "c" would, but mustn't, be formed.

dh - a soft breathy quiet hum formed in a "d" formation of the mouth without interupting the air flow.

mh - like a gentle "v" (but may have been made by blowing between two lips that do not meet (in a "m" position), rather than top teeth and lower lip for a "v").

th -  At the start of a word, sounding more like an "h".  Elsewhere much softer than "th" in English but almost like the time of the "th" is there but the sound of it missing.   "Tuath" (north) fading away at the end of the word as one would in an English pronunciation of "bough", except that the mouth formation might be like a "th".

As for other consonant and vowel sounds and rules, one might try the Cambridge Hillwalking Club unofficial-guide-pronouncing-gaelic , but it is unofficial, daunting, and, I suspect, written by an Englishman.  https://learngaelic.scot/dictionary/ may be more useful to hear Scottish Gaelic pronunciations.

Since it is inevitable that the non-Gaelic speaker is bound to get it wrong, I think the best policy is to apologise first to a local before pronouncing any local place name hesitantly and softly.