Tourism challenges and opportunities

Born and raised in Lewis, I, like many others, grew up taking for granted just how extraordinary the Outer Hebrides are. I enjoyed the space, freedom and sense of community, but, as I cast envious glances at the wider world, I barely stopped to consider just how much my island home had to offer. As I’ve grown older and wiser and work has called me to promote – and often explain – the islands to many coming here for the first time, the full value and uniqueness of the place has become apparent.

The Gaelic language… Lewis & Harris are two separate islands but the same island… Sundays are different… the story of St Kilda… the plane in Barra really does land on the beach… yes, Bonnie Prince Charlie passed through… we own a majority of the islands ourselves… honesty boxes work fine in a community where you don’t have to always lock your door…

The points of reference that sometimes need to be highlighted or confirmed are many and varied, but all serve to confirm that this is a place unlike any other.

However, with a growing appreciation of the beauty, environment and culture of the islands has come a greater awareness of our remoteness and fragility. I’m familiar with the argument that peripherality is relative and are we remote if not at a distance from each other, our homes, and the ties that bind us locally? It is undeniable that in today’s global economy, mass matters and in terms of the centres of population that drive commerce, we are most certainly remote.

How often have we heard there are simply not enough people to sustain a school or justify a health-care service? We must pay more for our goods as the penalty for choosing to live at a distance from the dispatch centres. It’s unfortunate our ferry network is broken but we know there is always a risk on an island that the boat won’t go.

The current economic model of resource allocation and infrastructure planning unfortunately doesn’t work in favour of small island communities and, followed to its logical conclusion, the outcome is almost inevitable depopulation and economic failure.

I mentioned the intrigue the St Kilda story still ignites in those who hear it for the first time. As the UK’s only dual UNESCO World Heritage site, Hiort is recognised not only for its environmental significance but equally for its cultural importance, its history serving as a bellwether for dwindling island communities who could one day find the challenges of peripherality too much. As the 100th anniversary of the evacuation of St Kilda approaches, we are reminded that extinction is not always a spectacular mass event; sometimes it comes as the result of a selecting out of those whose environment becomes simply too harsh.

Our islands are remote, at least in economic terms, and we have significant challenges to overcome to achieve sustainability, but there is hope – for as islanders, we are responsive, resourceful, collaborative and innovative and I believe we finally have a collective appreciation of the value of our islands.

We are leaders in community asset management and renewable energy production, our crofters and fishermen benefit from generations of knowledge in working productively and sustainably, we recognise the dynamic between culture, heritage and tourism in a way others are just beginning to explore and critically, we no longer foster in our young people the notion that the bright leave and the dumb stay – instead teaching them that to learn and explore is essential, but home has everything to offer too.

Looking back to my childhood, I can recall curiosity and mild interest in the annual procession of ‘visitors’, usually only seen in the mid-summer months. The occasional back-packer or cyclist, extended family on a holiday back ‘home’, people with a work purpose or visiting friends. Yes, there were hotels and the occasional guesthouse, a couple of favourite cafes and small local post-office shops, but not much more for the passing traveller. Interpretation of heritage, history and environment was minimal, visitors were welcome but not particularly catered to. Harris Tweed was something to be worn, not crafted, there were no (official) distilleries or seafood menus and the landscape was the preserve of sheep and crofters, not photographers and walkers.

But as other industries became less viable, islanders awakened to the opportunities in tourism and over time, confidence grew: a few local artists opened up their studios, a greater choice of places to eat and stay emerged and a general renaissance of Gaelic culture through media and music helped to put the islands on the map. But of course the introduction of Road Equivalent Tariff in 2008 was the game-changer – a reminder to our politicians today of the importance of getting transport policy right in order to stimulate island prosperity.

In my lifetime we have seen the islands transform from a little-known outpost of the UK, suspended in nostalgia by some and slightly disparaged by others, to now being regularly touted as a must-see destination.

To my mind, the most important factor in this transformation has been islanders’ recognition of the Outer Hebrides as a place to be treasured and shared with those who truly appreciate it. Over time attitudes have shifted, businesses have invested and infrastructure has been created. We can be proud that tourism is now the largest element of the private sector here, supporting thousands of jobs and bringing millions into the economy, whilst in the main safeguarding community interests and cultural integrity.

But despite this growth and positivity, the shadow cast by the story of St Kilda looms. The Outer Hebrides, and Uist in particular, are facing acute challenges that will not be overcome quickly or easily; deep economic damage inflicted by the total inadequacy of ferry services risks exacerbating already alarming depopulation.

I would love to end this piece with an answer; a winning recommendation to move things forward in the right direction. In the absence of such insight, I will end by saying that although times are far from easy now and we feel powerless in the face of the ongoing ferry and cost-of-living crises, we must remember how far we have come and all that we have achieved. It is our people and communities that make the islands and our tourism sector what it is and we should be nothing but proud of the effort we have collectively put in over recent decades to build a successful industry that welcomes visitors from across the world and shares with them the beauty and cultural soul of the Outer Hebrides.