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'Yesterday, I walked over to Skye'

Engineering/ end of an era

John Arlidge Scotland Correspondent
Saturday 10 June 1995 23:02 BST
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FOR centuries, travellers have sailed "over the sea" to the Isle of Skye. From Bonnie Prince Charlie to today's Japanese tourists who strike up "Speed bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing" as they board the ferry, the road to the Isles ends at the Kyle of Lochalsh. It is there that Hebridean adventures begin.

But soon, Flora MacDonald's refrain will be heard no more. The Skye Bridge is finished. For the first time, travellers can now walk over the sea to Skye and, later this year, when cars begin to roll on to the concrete span, the ferries that run between the Kyle and Kyleakin will disappear.

Yesterday, I walked to Skye. The gateway to the bridge lies yards from the Lochalsh slipway where the last generation of summer tourists drives on to the Caledonian MacBrayne ferries. Through a cutting one hundred yards down a sodden track, next year's tourist trail begins - two miles of tarmac with shiny, trunk-road signposts to Kyleakin, Broadford and Portree.

On each side stand dry-stone walls and fences - built to keep otters off the highway. To the right, the Cuillin hills pierce the mist; on the left, on Eilean Ban, stands the derelict, white-washed cottage where Gavin Maxwell, author of Ring of Bright Water, lived out his final years. Ahead lies the bridge he would have despised - 100,000 tonnes of concrete, 570m long and 12m wide, rising 35m above the sea.

With John Henderson, the 45-year-old engineer from the Highland village of Strathpeffer who has masterminded the bridge's construction, I climbed the first span. The pounds 30m box girder structure was built in pounds 5mchunks, piece by piece, from each side of the straits. Last Thursday, the two giant arms met. The final layer of concrete has yet to be poured, but simple wooden planks now cover the gap.

We edged on to the makeshift crossing. Below, the CalMac ferries fought the swell. The wind billowed around our feet, the first drops of rain fell, and we hurried, grasping the scaffolding rail. Moments later, we reached the other side to be greeted by dusty, Gaelic-speaking workmen.

"Welcome to Skye. Great, isn't it?" Mr Henderson said, with all the relief of a man who has spent the last three years building a bridge which many - angry at the planned pounds 5.20 tolls and the ending of Skye's island status - sought to scupper.

When the bridge officially opens in September, up to 20,000 vehicles a day will follow. Their journey will last just 30 seconds. Then, parapets will be in place, the steel barriers glimmering; street lights will blaze, and the roar of diesel engines will replace the clang-clatter of the ferry ramp on the slipways. The last act of the Government's privately-funded flagship project will be complete - and another piece of Hebridean romance will be consigned to history.

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