The guide books describe it as a barren town with little to recommend it, of so it appears to be. There is a pleasant little art center cafe where I am ripping lemonade, to be followed by a ginger beer to cool down the hot, muggy day. I am waiting for the bus to Tarbert, which will save me 37 miles of riding through moorland and the saddle between two large mountains and will instead allow me to start my next ride along the gold coast of Harris, famous for its beautiful beaches.
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