The Outer Hebrides, also known as the Western Isles, is a chain of islands off the west coast of Scotland and perched at the edge of the world. West of the archipelago of St Kilda, the western-most islands of the group, there is nothing but the North Sea, then Greenland and Canada.

The northernmost Isle of Lewis and its neighbour Harris are referred to as distinct islands although, confusingly, they are not separated by sea but are on the same land mass.

My own introduction to the Outer Hebrides – known mostly for wild, windy weather, stormy seas and a history of herring fishing – was via the Lewis Trilogy, a series of murder mysteries written by Peter May and set on Lewis, and some scanty knowledge I had of the stoic herring girls of Stornoway.

Being able to combine the excitement of a trip to such a remote region with my love of Celtic folk music was a bit of a dream come true.

The village of Tarbert on Harris – home of Harris tweed. Photo: Amanda McInerney

Heeding the meteorological warnings, I was prepared for whatever the infamous weather of the islands was going to throw at me and arrived in their mid-summer kitted out with light seasonal clothing, woollies, a rain jacket, a heavy down jacket and a budget that included an amount set aside for the purchase of wellies.

As it turned out, I didn’t need any of the wet weather gear as we enjoyed a rare, solid week of glorious sunny days and long (really long – not dark until about 11pm) balmy evenings. The only hint of the potential of the weather was the constant wind which left me sporting what I christened my Hebridean hair-do – where I basically gave up on my curly, unruly locks.

What I wasn’t prepared for was the incredible beauty of the Outer Hebrides.

It is a place of huge, wide, ridiculously blue skies, endless vistas and ancient monuments. After just a few days, I had completely lost my heart to this fabulous place.

The island of Harris is treeless and rocky, with barren, naked hills and vast peat bogs. It is devoid of most life except for the scattered crofts and farmhouses, sparse grassland and Hebridean sheep scrambling over the stony slopes.

Driving north to Lewis, this scenery gives way to sweeping vistas of grassland, more bogs, endless lochs and more sheep.

Sunny skies and glassy water on Lewis. Photo: Amanda McInerney

The coastline is breathtaking. I had never for a minute connected these islands with stunning beaches, but they’ve got it all – from dramatic, rocky cliffs, to the widest, whitest sandy beaches I’ve ever seen.

There are tiny little fishing villages, charming isolated cottages and fantastic guest houses which are accessible only by boat.

And, while Skye was quite busy with a thriving tourist trade, it seems that many of the punters draw the line at the extra two-hour ferry ride out west, so there is plenty of room to move, breathe and enjoy this stunningly special part of the world.

Getting there: There are direct daily flights from five UK airports to Stornoway, on the Isle of Lewis, with the trip taking around an hour. Ferry services also operate between the various islands.

Staying and playing there: Read more about the accommodation, activities and attractions of the Outer Hebrides on the official tourism website.

South Australian writer Amanda McInerney writes about travel and food on her Lambs’ Ears & Honey blog, where this article was originally published. Read her article about the Isle of Skye here.