The Harris Eagle Observatory & the Sron Smearasmal Beehive

During my visit to Lewis and Harris in May I set out one Sunday to revisit the stellar beehive cell of Sron Smearasmal. Eleven years had passed since I was last there, and I was curious to see if it was still intact. Another site I wanted to visit was the North Harris Eagle Observatory.

The walk started by following the track to Loch Bhoisimid. After passing through the kissing gate - unfortunately, there was no one to kiss - I headed north along the track.

A kilometre into the walk I came to the bridge over Abhainn Mhiabhaig, which marks the halfway point to the observatory.  

The observatory was soon spotted in the distance, below the looming prow of Sron Scourst. 

After 30 minutes of walking, I reached the observatory. Timber-built, with a turf roof, it has large picture windows that allow for expansive views to the north and west.

Being a weekend, the observatory was full of people. The only place to sit was on a bench at the back, which still provided a good view.

After spending some time in the observatory - without spotting any birds - I returned south along the track to the bridge over Abhainn Mhiabhaig. The bridge is a good place to start the climb to the Sron Smearasmal beehive. The cell lies a kilometre west of the track and involves an elevation gain of 170 metres. It was hot and humid, but a steady breeze kept the midges at bay

There are two cells here (NB 0900 0749). One is completely intact but only the foundation remains of the second. The intact cell is four metres in diameter at its base, two metres high to the top of the dome, and has four cupboards built into its lower walls. 

Although it has collapsed, the second cell has a unique feature, a two-metre-deep rectangular compartment that may have been a sleeping place. You can see its entrance in the previous photo. 

Although over a decade had passed since my last visit, the cell looked the same, unlike the cell at Clar Beag, that I returned to a few years ago only to discover that it had collapsed. I crawled into the cell, cracked open a can of Export, and listened as the wind blew through gaps in the cell wall.

From the cell, a gentle descent to the south across the heather-covered hillside led to the highway and the waiting car. As related in Beehive Dwellings of the Hebrides, the last time I was here was also a Sunday. I had been unable to find a meal and had to settle for a banana sandwich and tea from my B&B hostess. I was better prepared this time. I had booked a table, and an hour later dined at the Harris Hotel. The steak pie and a pint were much better than that banana sandwich and tea,