I still smile at memory of the rolls

I’VE still not booked a summer holiday. It’s not that I’m hoping for a last-minute bargain, I’m just not sure where I’m brave enough to go.

Many of the most reasonablypriced packages now are to destinations where there’s a good chance of being kidnapped, shot or blown-up. Call me selfish, but death is not something I generally look for in a holiday.

Other resorts offer the possibility of seafronts groaning with the human tragedy of those who are fleeing the blowing-up. And even the most self-centred tourists must wonder if it’s right to be trying to get a tan in a place where others are trying simply not to die.

The fact that Spain is sold out suggests fear and guilt have changed many folks’ plans. And left no room for my li-lo.

So assuming that life must go on, is the staycation an option? Has Blighty anything to offer that can equal the Acropolis at sunset, the pyramids at sunrise or long beaches on a warm sea?

As it happens, yes – and two come to mind immediately. They sat side by side on my plate in the café of the Ness Historical Society at the top end of Lewis.

It was a bright, clear, windy day

We looked round a museum full of big caps and beards

and we’d just been up to the Butt of Lewis where we stood beneath the Stevenson lighthouse and gazed across to distant mountains on the mainland. We watched seabirds nesting on cliffs pounded by foaming waves and walked the cliff edge with hats tightly clamped to prevent our hair going to St Kilda.

We explored the picturesque Port of Ness, then drove to Cross and the old primary school that’s home to the historical society.

We looked round a museum full of memories of big caps and bigger beards and shawls and creels, and bought a rug made from Harris tweed waste.

Then in the café, feeling windblown and hearty, I ordered two rolls with fried egg and Stornoway black pudding.

It’s not a combo I enjoy regularly (or at all) and not one recommended by the British Medical Association (or my wife). But I was on holiday and it was brilliant.

Now when I think back to that day and those rolls, it always makes me smile. Which is what a holiday is supposed to do.

It also reminds me how lucky we are to live where we do.