Day 583, Landing stage

Protruding from the lunar-like surface there is a landing stage.  Boats blown in from the Atlantic take a breather before bobbing down the coast to less isolated, better equipped harbours.  No frills here, just rocks, used tyres, and cars with only three wheels that aren't Reliant Robins.*

Lewis and Harris, not your glamorous destination such as Monaco, Saint-Tropez or Penzance, has the distinction of being a small time producer of chess pieces.  Chess pieces made from walrus ivory, whales teeth, and the ossified remnants of misplaced American tourists.  Historically these pieces have made their way to less troubled rivieras, but at great expense. 

It is no wonder then that there are other, less-accidental visitors.  Chess aficionados and grandmasters often make pilgrimage here, many come with the hope of unearthing more chess reliquary.  This desire can lead them from the more well worn tourist route, and into scrub and moorland where carnivorous duck await.  The chess geek** unknowingly taking part in a co-evolutionary process which has helped the duck move from 'critically endangered' on the IUCN Red List to a new status of 'slightly threatening'.

There are brief periods where the carni-duck are less of a hazard to humans, when with their young and in the water.  At moments such as these it is possible to approach, albeit with caution.  But on no account attempt to feed or touch them, and never, under any circumstances let them see you turn your back.

Projecting from the rocky hillside there is a landing stage.  Those blown in from the Atlantic may take a breath here before moving on to less troubled water.  No frills, just rocks, used tyres, and the icy beak of death.

* There are many apparently abandoned cars on the roadside, often with one corner propped up on bricks.
** The plural form is 'geek', like sheep.

For official/internal use only:
7676
0-9