Back for the First Time

Finally we arrived in Back. Back is a rather weird city from what I’ve seen. Located just a short distance from the small city Stornoway, Back does not have the same oh-my-god-I-think-I’m-going-to-faint views that pervades so much of Scotland. That being said, it would be a disservice to Back to imply that it was at a lack for beauty, having its fair share of perfectly placed sparkling blue rivers snaking from the roadside deep into the green hills. It was also a coastal town, and any view of the ocean has me at hello. I love water.

All the houses here are made of stucco (commonly seen in Mexico) which gives them a cheap, unstable paper Mache feel. Back is a small town, but filled with houses, showing at least a few hundred people live there in a fairly densely populated space. Yet there is not one restaurant in Back, nor even a single Pub. The best form of entertainment within the town that we were able to find (albeit a good one) was the beaches, and though it was midsummer, the water was far too cold for swimming, and there was no one on them. In Back we found a total of three buildings that were not households, and one of them was a post office.

Back had a very impoverished, sad feel to it somehow. Perhaps this is because I have not much of an idea how these people could make a living. There were sheep, which meant some wool, but the squeezed together lay of the town is certainly not formed around a wool market. There were a few other Bed & Breakfasts like ours, but it certainly is not a town thriving off of tourism. Perhaps they mostly commute to Stornoway.

In any case, we arrived at the Brevig Villa (our Bed & Breakfast), talked to our hostess, Ms. Mackay, and quickly headed Back out (pun intended) to get dinner. Ms. Mackay had recommended a place called the Royal Hotel in Stornoway (recall there are no restaurants in Back). Sternoway is a very small city, mind you. I’m not sure city is even an appropriate term. All the shops were squeezed into a 5x5 block area (by my rough estimate) complete with a public library and tourist information center.

We found the Royal Hotel easily enough. They sat us down and took our drink orders, only to come back several minutes later and inform us that the chef was backed up, and could not take our order for the next 15 minutes. However they assured us that if we were patient and willing to have a pint, they could take our order soon.

So we waited.

About a half hour or more went by before finally the waitress came over to us and informed us that the chef had decided to “refuse to take any more orders tonight”. I wonder just how short staffed they could have been. The place was not even half full, and the restaurant hours had it open for another hour and a half. More than a little miffed, but unwilling to yell at the poor waitress they had sent out to deliver the news, we marched out without paying for our drinks. They didn’t ask and we didn’t offer.

We spent the next 20 minutes trying to find a place to eat at such a late hour. By this point it seemed that most places were already packed full or no longer serving. Thankfully, we were finally able to get food at a hotel restaurant, catching the tail end of their serving hours. A little bit expensive maybe, and the food was nothing special, but it was food. By this point, we were all pretty happy to see food in any form. That night I had a pint of McEwans. All was good.