There’s something unique about life on a small island. You get a sense of community that is elusive to the places where most of us live. I’ve noticed this on our many visits to the remote corners of Scotland, and experienced this most of all on our recent trip to Barra, a tiny island at the southern tip of the Outer Hebrides.
Barra has less than a thousand residents, and people know each other pretty well. Most have been born and bred on the island which is home of the MacNeil clan (a very high proportion of Barra folk share this surname). As visitors we were made very welcome by everyone we met and quickly became comfortable in the island life.
So why is the life in this outpost of the UK so different? Here are just a few examples that might help explain it:
1. A sense of total trust. There appears to be an absence of crime on Barra. We stayed in a lovely self-catering apartment and were given a key but told there was no need to lock the door at any time. Cars too are left open, often with the keys in the ignition (at least you never need to search your pockets for them!) Children play out in the streets at all hours, and walk alone to and from school without the fears of evil strangers that exist elsewhere.
2. No-one is a stranger. Within a couple of days of arriving on Barra, we recognised and were greeted by the airport security man at the supermarket, the boatman along the main road and a local hotel manager who had seen us hiking. Another week and we might have known every other person.
3. Everyone knows others’ business. We had been there for less than three days, and were chatting to the owner of our favourite cafe. She had seen us walking along the road while she was on the bus, and the girl next to her who worked in the supermarket had pointed out that we were ‘the friendly couple’ who had been visiting the shop daily. I can only imagine how fast real gossip travels here!
4. Common greetings. We cycled and hiked around the whole of Barra and neighbouring Vatersay. It is customary for any passing motorist to greet other drivers, pedestrians and cyclists with a friendly wave. Even walking through the main town of Castlebay (no more than a small village in reality) most people would greet each other in passing. It’s a world away from our impersonal exchanges in the south of England.
5. The concept of ‘the Mainland’. Barra is an hour by plane from Glasgow, and five hours by ferry from Oban. Getting to the mainland is a big deal, so when people travel there it is usually a trip with many purposes: to shop for clothes; to get specialist food ingredients; to buy a new gadget of some sort – everything is available on ‘the Mainland’. Kids look forward to visiting McDonalds and Pizza Hut, while the young adults can go clubbing or go to a concert. The Mainland appears to be this all-consuming entity across the water where everything is available, but where dangers that don’t exist on the island lurk freely.
6. Many hats worn. It’s hard to survive with one occupation in a small community. If you own a shop or a restaurant, you’re not going to get enough business from a tiny population. People take on multiple jobs. You might see the same person owning a fishing boat, taking tourists diving and owning a seafood restaurant.
I have to admit there is something seductive about island life. The total lack of theft and the absence of fear of crime is a joy to behold. So many people told us that it is the perfect place to raise children; they can play outside to their hearts’ content, and the long summer hours mean that darkness of sorts only descends after midnight (there is of course a corresponding downside in the winter).
Ultimately we’re used to the world in which we live and have become accustomed to the access to restaurants, shops and technology that we enjoy ‘on the Mainland’. But once in a while it is really refreshing to take a trip to somewhere like the one of the small Scottish Islands, and remember that there is another world out there; one where houses and cars remain unlocked, where bicycle locks don’t exist, where children can play without fear, and where people still take time to greet both strangers and neighbours as they pass. I would say visit Barra before it changes. But I’m actually optimistic that the people living in this, and other island communities, won’t let that change happen.
Related posts:
The island of Barra; small but packed with things to do
I think my next trip to Scotland will be slowly traveling through the western isles. Sounds wonderful to me. Great post!
Thanks Keith. Well worth the trip up to the western isles. And slow is the only way to do it
This article reminds me of the movie Local Hero, which takes place in a community just like you describe.
Ted, you’re talking about possibly my favourite movie of all time :-). Local Hero was filmed partly on the west coast of Scotland (not so far from here) and partly on the east. The famous red phone box is in the village of Pennan on the east. Here’s a post about our visit there:
https://www.501places.com/2009/09/north-east-scotland-the-moray-firth-local-hero-and-that-red-telephone-box/
I guess there are similarities in the slow pace of life, the kind curiosity to strangers and the close knit community. Didn’t get to see the northern lights this time though.
It does sound seductive, the way you portray it. I thought Barbados was small (166 sq miles and about 270,000 people, but Barra really is tiny. I’ve found that many islands have the same propensity for fast traveling news and greetings, though the bigger ones unfortunately also have crime.
I like it when you can leave everything unlocked!
But there is something I just don’t like… they also really know everything about what you are doing… like when you leave your house, when you come back, who is visiting you…
It’s not that I have anything to hide, but it’s just feels like being watched! On the other side, that makes it also safe… if someone should enter your house, the neighbour will know it!
Like everything in life… there are pro & cons.
Nice article & seems to be a nice relaxing place!
Thank you Sharon and Melvin for your comments. As you both say, the speed at which news travels on a small island would take some getting used to, for those of us who live in big cities. Yup, there are certainly pros and cons – I guess if there weren’t, we’d all be moving to live in little remote communities!
Great article – just wrote an article about a very similar topic – I am currently living and working on Hayman Island in the Whitsundays, Australia. The staff village is a very tight knit community where everyone knows everyone, and you stop and chat for about 15 minutes before being able to get to the central diner. More on this story at http://www.jennifertice.com
Thanks Jennifer, and thanks for sharing your own stories from Hayman Island. I enjoyed your list of pros and cons of living in a small community, and laughed at the description of Fresh Meat Mondays!
Great comments about a truly beautiful place. My parents are from Barra (MacKinnon not MacNeil) and it has warmed my heart to read your blog.
Thanks for the kind feedback Cath. Do you ever visit the island?
So much of this reminds me of why I miss living in the Orkney islands. I don’t think I’d go back (yet anyway) because it’s too isolated but I am glad I grew up in such a friendly place. Have you been up that way?