The Great Bernera Mill

For me, seeing the restored Great Bernera Norse Mill was a two-year challenge. I first saw it from the sea in 2015 (see the June 30, 2015 post). It looked so intriguing I promised myself that someday I'd take the time to walk to it.

And so, a year later, with Explorer Map 458 in hand, I walked to the end of the road east of the Bernera Museum. The map showed a dotted line path that went directly to the mill, a quarter-mile farther east. All I saw at the road's end was a gate leading into a marshy field. There was nary a trace of a path of any kind, and it looked so swampy I knew I'd sink to my knees if I tried to cross it. You can see the gate to nowhere at the left in the following photo.

I scratched my head, looked at the map again, and gave up. It was late in the day, and the museum was closed. With no one around to ask directions I drove to the Bernera Mini-Mart. I showed the man on duty the map. He had no idea where the path was.

I then drove the east Bernera circuit road looking for a way to the shore. I saw nothing that looked doable, and gave up. My wife and I were returning to the mainland the next day, so I had to put seeing the mill on the list for next time.

So, fast forward to last month. My wife and I were staying on Great Bernera for a week. On a clear, sunny day I set out to visit the mill. I asked for directions at the museum, telling them about my previous failed attempt. They told me to simply follow the red marker posts, and so I returned to that same road's end I'd visited the year before. There were no red posts anywhere, just that same swampy field beyond a gate; a gate that looked like it had not been opened in years.

I returned to the museum and told them so. The woman on duty said there'd been some 'vandalism'. What! Vandals attacking marker posts on Great Bernera?  This was certainly odd. Then she gave me the key to the mill; not a real key, just a suggestion. I needed to walk right up to the house at the end of the road, which you can see to the upper right in the previous photo.

And so I walked up to the house. And there it was. Just to the left of the driveway stood another gate not visible from the road below. This must be the place. But there was no red marker post, or a sign of any kind. Very odd.

I could be wrong, but I surmised the 'vandalism' was that the marker post had been removed to discourage walkers from passing so close to the houses. After following the path past the house I finally came across a red post, one not visible from the road.

From there a series of posts led east over a hill. From there ten minutes of walking brought me to the mill on the shore of Loch Riosaigh.

It was fantastic, like stepping back in time. The mill was used until the 1920s, and had been rebuilt in 1995. Its restored thatch roof was mostly intact, and along the side of the building the mill race flowed to the sea. 

Water in the mill race could be redirected to flow through the lower level of the mill to turn the paddle-wheel. But the water was not going that way so, torch in hand, I entered the dark opening to see the wheel.

On the upper level of the mill were the two millstones, and a wood funnel used to pour grain into the stones.

I then thought about visiting the giant lobster pond and dam on the far side Loch Riosaigh. I'd seen it from the sea back in 2015, and it looked like quite an impressive structure. It is one of the largest lobster ponds in the isles, and was in use until the 1960s. (You can read more here.) 

The pond was only 500 meters away. But getting there involves following the rough coastline around the head of the loch, a distance of 1000 meters. It was getting late, and so I decided to save it for next time. Before heading back I walked out to the tip of a small headland east of the mill, as I'd seen some sort of structure there. On reaching it I discovered it was just a large cairn, probably built by hikers taking a break in this beautiful spot. I left my own mark by building a portal dolmen from three large stones.

Looking at my handiwork I started chucking to myself. I'd suddenly recalled a hilarious event that happened many years ago in the west of Ireland. I was at the Polnabrone Portal Dolmen, one of the most impressive dolmens in the world. I was with Gloria and Regina, two of my nieces. After seeing the dolmen we walked out onto the rocky terrain of the Burren, where we sat down and set about building our own mini-dolmens from the many flat stones that covered the area; none of them more than six inches high. No sooner had we finished when we heard stomping behind us. Up walked the site warden, who proceeded to knock down our creations. He seemed to think future researchers would confuse our little dolmens with the real thing.  

There was no warden at the mill to knock down my creation, only the coming winter storms. I left the headland and made the short walk back to the road. At the hidden gate I was tempted to transplant one of the red posts to it, so it would be visible from the road. But it would probably disappear, too.

Now that you know the way, if you are ever on Great Bernera be sure to visit the mill. It is well worth the short walk. You can read more about the mill here.