Travels With My Tammy
From an article in Tional by Cathie Lockie
Three and a half years old and about to have my first remembered memory of our annual holiday on the Hebridean island of Lewis, isle of the heather and ‘land of my fathers’.
Three o’clock in the morning with myself seated on our cabin trunk, wearing my new white tammy resplendent with long white tassel – my pride and joy. Excited. We were a family of five, my parents, my sister, my brother and me. We awaited the arrival of the Glasgow taxi, which was to take us to Buchanan Street Railway Station, where the ‘Great adventure’ would begin…..
The 4.15 train for Mallaig arrived and with lots of other passengers and a proliferation of cases and more important things like fishing rods, we clambered aboard. Three to four hours later and half-asleep, we left the train to walk across to Mallaig harbour. There was the steamer which was to transport us north to Kyle of Lochalsh – a journey of some 2/3 hours. Warm and sunny weather and warm enough to be on deck, open up our flasks and sandwiches and have a late lunch. Sail over and we were now on the pier at Kyle. We would wait with our luggage until the ‘Sheila’, the Stornoway steamer, would dock. Another hour would pass as cargo and luggage preceded the passengers and rucksacked tourists were allowed on board. The sea breeze had become a stiffening wind by this time, threatening to ‘de-tammy’ me. I have this memory of great anxiety about this.
