A winter week in Lewis and Harris

Low season: late October to March

Ullapool feels like a town promising adventure. Like many small towns in Scotland, it provides a stopping off point for people en route elsewhere. Armed with walking poles, backpacks, tents and other outward-bound paraphernalia, people here have somewhere to be and there’s a sense of expectation in the air. As I sit watching the sleepy harbour and quiet inland seas, I sip a coffee and stare across to the mountains beyond. The impending arrival of the CalMac ferry MV Loch Seaforth means it’s time to get a move on.

My departure from the mainland heralds the start of a nearly three-hour ferry crossing to Stornoway and a week in the Outer Hebrides on Lewis and Harris. I’m travelling at the point in which winter is only just making way for spring to embark on its tentative first steps. There’s a crisp breeze, rain on the horizon and warnings of gales throughout the week, but perhaps some sun – who knows? The sense of unpredictability about the time I’m travelling means there’s a sense of adventure, and I’ve rarely felt so happy to be ready to depart on a ferry knowing that by the time I get to my destination, I’ll have large portions of the islands to myself. “It’s absolutely the best time to visit this place, there’s a huge sense of space,” says Beverley, the owner of Snowberry Cottage, where I’ll be sleeping tonight. She should know, she was born here and has helpfully provided me with some reading material to kick start my trip. This material suggests that even outside of peak season, I’ve got a busy few days ahead.

As the swell subsides from my crossing and the ferry’s engine note dies down, the first thing Stornoway impresses on me is the smell. Not a bad smell, but a distinct blend of diesel, seaweed, fish and rubber that’s so evocative of hard-working places by the sea. Leaving the ferry in the dark, I find Snowberry Cottage after a drive east to west across one of the Isle of Lewis’s main roads. “The lights will be on, the door’s unlocked” says Beverley over text. Without another driver in sight as I leave Stornoway, and a distinct impression of a vast expanse of wilderness either side of the road, I can see why security isn’t an issue here.

The next morning takes me to Tiumpan Head, one of the best places to see ocean-going wildlife on Lewis. A circular walk from the lighthouse around this peninsula offers views of the dramatic east coast. Cormorants swoop and dive and seals bob around going about their business without intrusion. All morning, I meet only one sole birdwatcher. A trip slightly further north to the majestic and aptly named Tràigh Mhòr (Big Beach) later that afternoon confirms my solitude, and for a mile across the marram-fringed shores I spot one dog walker. The theme of my visit has been set as one of isolation and eating my lunch looking out across the empty beach, there surely aren’t many better places to watch the clouds roll past.

A view of Tràigh Mhòr by Jacob Little

The Big Beach, or Tràigh Mhòr  by Jacob Little

It wasn’t all alone-time though, as this isn’t a small island. At the last census, more than 18,500 people lived in Lewis. About another 2000 on Harris. There’s about 7000 people in Stornoway alone, its tightly packed streets hiding galleries, restaurants, pubs and even a campus of the University of the Highlands and Islands (UHI). It’s one of the biggest island towns in Scotland after Kirkwall in Orkney and Lerwick in Shetland.

I speak to Gerald (Gez) Earp, owner of Stornoway Distillers. Gez makes the award-winning dry gin Landfall on Lewis, and runs a Gin School in town, where visitors can craft a unique gin from a selection of more than 50 botanicals largely sourced from the island. “Winter requires a little bit more flexibility,” he tells me, “But you get to see it outside of the rush. It’s far more enjoyable walking along a beach by yourself. It’s about having your own experience of a place, rather than sharing it with lots of other people.” He also tells me about the potential for more meaningful interactions. “You get to have proper conversations. People have more time, so you understand the place in a completely different way.”

Gerald Earp, owner of Stornoway Distillers by Jacob Little

Some copper pot stills used at Stornoway Distillers by Jacob Little

The next day the wind arrives. I can tell the ferry is cancelled thanks to hushed murmurings in the local Tesco and second glances at shopping lists. The shelves are emptying quickly. It doesn’t seem to bother anyone, and I don’t mind either – I have a few more days here, so I head south to meet Grant and Russell, owners of SEApods Boutique pods, perched high on a cliff above a rocky cove. “We came here for a complete change of lifestyle,” they tell me. “We were looking to buy a hotel but then this came up, and it’s been an adventure ever since”. Fortunately for me, they’re open all year round, and the warm pod that welcomes me is a delightful respite from the breeze.

A journey to Harris is a must while staying here, so the next day I make my way south. I drive through all kinds of weather. Bright sun, rolling clouds pushed by the wind, rainstorms and hail. Over the space of 2 hours, I see every type of weather sweep across a magnificent mountainous backdrop, but my destination is certain to provide some home comforts. I’m visiting Anna and Nick who run the Isle of Harris Brewery in the remote fishing village of Leverburgh, the second biggest settlement on Harris. They packed up their life with their family in Oxfordshire and moved here for a sense of freedom, starting their business in a shed in their garden. “The very first time we did it, we just put it out there to see what would happen. I stuck a post on Facebook saying I was delivering, like a community noticeboard,” Nick tells me. “It just went mad. We could see there was a real need for it.” The brewery is now situated on the harbourside, with outdoor seating and a small deli and shop. It has all the hallmarks of a regular drinking spot for the people who live on Harris. “The importance of having a space for the community as well as tourists really matters, Nick says. It’s about looking after the people around you, in lots of ways.”

Grant and Russell of SEAPods by Jacob Little

One of the boutique pods at SEApods by Jacob Little

Buoyed by a sense of optimism about life here all year round, I drive back to my pod via Sgarasta Mhòr Beach and Seilebost Beach, two of the most famous white sand beaches in the area, which thanks to their high shell content, stand out like coastline beacons against the muted tones of the hills behind. They are completely devoid of people, and I can’t help but stare awhile at the rolling Atlantic waves. Nothing from here ‘till Newfoundland, I think to myself. I continue my journey to the far end of the island, to walk around the northerly most point on the Outer Hebrides, the Butt of Lewis. It’s on record as being one of the windiest places in the UK and the Atlantic breeze is strong today. I stay well back from the cliff’s edge.

Butt of Lewis by Jacob Little

The day I leave the ferry is back on, and the weather’s subsided. It’s a cold but sunny early morning, and I watch the sun come up over the sea. As I board, I dwell on what Gez told me a few days before. “People have more time,” he said. I’ve met with people running small businesses here that are thriving despite the unpredictability of winter. “Even for staff’s sake, you need to stay open through the winter, Matteo Giovanazzi, owner of the Italian restaurant La Balena in Stornoway told me the previous evening. “If you close, what do they do? Up here it’s about keeping a community of people around you”. His restaurant is full of locals when I visit.

Those communities Matteo mentions are framed and shaped by this landscape, by their intrinsic link to the sea, and by the knowledge that despite the weather and an unpredictable ferry schedule, there’s nowhere else they’d rather be.

Departing Ullapool by Jacob Little 

Getting Here

Reaching Lewis and Harris is part of the experience. In winter, it becomes even more memorable. Most visitors arrive via ferry with Caledonian MacBrayne (CalMac), sailing from Ullapool to Stornoway (Lewis) or from Uig on Skye to Tarbert (Harris). Winter sailings can be weather-dependent, so keep some flexibility in mind.

The Caledonian MacBrayne (CalMac) ferry by Jacob Little

Flights with Loganair connect Stornoway with Glasgow, Edinburgh and Inverness. Flight times are around an hour.

Once on the islands, a car is highly recommended. Lewis and Harris are one landmass, but distances can feel longer than expected, especially on single-track roads.

Things to Do

Winter in Lewis and Harris is about immersion in the landscape. Walk vast beaches with barely another person in sight, or explore rugged coastlines shaped by Atlantic weather.

Visit local studios, small producers and distilleries, or spend time in community spaces where stories are shared. Music remains central to island life year-round, and even in winter you’ll often find informal sessions or small gatherings that offer a genuine connection to the local culture.

In Lewis, history is ever-present — from ancient sites like Callanish Stones to traditional crofting landscapes. In Harris, the focus shifts to dramatic mountains and sweeping coastal scenery.

Places to Stay

Snowberry Cottage: https://snowberrycottageborve.co.uk/

SEApods Boutique Pods: https://seapods.co.uk/seapod/ The Sheep Station: https://www.thesheepstation.co.uk/

Self-catering is recommended. Many hotels are closed for the winter. B&Bs and other accommodation providers may stay open during the winter but enquire ahead of travel.

When to Go

Lewis and Harris change dramatically with the seasons. Winter offers space, solitude and a raw beauty. From late October to March, the islands are quiet. Some businesses close or reduce hours, but those that remain open often offer a more personal experience. Atlantic storms can be powerful and dramatic. Spring and autumn offer a middle ground, with fewer visitors than summer and more daylight than winter. Rainfall is often less in these months.