Isle of Eigg, Scotland: A Hidden Gem

[ChowderChaser]

Spent a week on the Isle of Eigg and now I’m ruined for ordinary vacations. You step off the ferry and—boom—jagged cliffs, weird green hills, and a beach made of singing sand. Actual fact: if you scuff your shoes across Laig Bay, the quartz in the sand squeaks. The locals swear the island is powered entirely by wind, sun, and sheep (the sheep part is probably a joke, but the wind and solar bit is true—Eigg is famous for being energy self-sufficient). The ferry captain looked like he bench-presses tractors for fun, and the only shop sells everything from oatcakes to ukuleles. There’s a legendary ceilidh barn—think barn dance with more kilts and less shame. Climbed An Sgurr, the island’s ancient volcanic stump, and saw the whole Small Isles spread out like a fantasy map. One night, the pub poured me “Crofter’s Regret,” which should come with a warning label. Also: I tried to make friends with the puffins. 0/10 recommend—those birds have attitude. Hike, bike, swim, stare at the sea, repeat. There’s even a cave where Bonnie Prince Charlie supposedly hid out. Last thing—on Eigg, you wave at everyone, and everyone waves back. Highly recommend, unless you hate rainbows, sheep, or pie.

[BayouBard]

I’ll bite. What does singing sand sound like? Like jazz, or more like a squeaky window? PS: Tell me more about this “Crofter’s Regret.” I once had moonshine in Plaquemines Parish that probably did similar damage.

[CrimsonCanoer]

I read Eigg’s got only 100 people and like 10,000 sheep. My cousin’d fit right in. Did you see the mass stone, or is that just something tourists get sent to find and get lost?

[WineTrailWalker]

I looked up that energy thing—Eigg actually is off the grid. Wild. Did the pub serve Irn-Bru, or just whisky? And was the pie steak & ale or “mystery meat”?

[RiverRambler]

Boat was late when I went—something about “weather” (as if that explains anything). Locals were betting on whether the next ferry would land or get blown to Muck. The sheep aren’t pets; don’t ask me how I know.

[GulfGallivanter]

I went in summer and it STILL rained. Massacre Cave is wild—sad story, wild acoustics. Kids tried to spook each other by yelling “Bonnie Prince Charlie!” Pie verdict: top tier.

[SiestaSeeker]

Ceilidh on Eigg: it’s like square dancing, but with bagpipes, and if you mess up the locals just laugh louder. My shoes still haven’t recovered.

[SwampScribe]

I believe you about the puffins. I brought binoculars and a sandwich; the birds stole my lunch and ignored me. And “Crofter’s Regret” should be a warning, not a drink. 10/10 would visit again—Eigg is legit magic. Don’t trust the sheep.