How long DOES it take to learn Gaelic?

So, how long *does* it take to learn Gaelic?

Three years.

Next question?


OK, maybe I had better expand on that a little bit.

First off, let's rephrase the question:

'How long does it take the average person of average ability with a fairly busy life to learn Gaelic to a conversational level?'

I reckon, in my experience as a very average learner, it takes between two and a half and three years. Roughly.

If you've cast half an eye over this blog before, you'll know I am a massive fan of the BBC Radio nan Gàidheal Lerners' programme 'Beag air Bheag' with Iain Urchardan.  Every week Iain introduces 'Neach-ionnsachaidh na seachdain', Learner of the Week, and these people each have a very different story to tell.

I remember in an early series, a very busy housewife who was massively commited to bringing up her family and to her church was barely able to string a sentence together after two years of learning. However, she still admirably put herself forward for an interview, and it was done in a way that she could cope with. On the other side of the coin, in the most recent series (Series 4) you had two different dudes (Martin B and Carmine) who had pretty much reached fluency after learning for barely a year. All these people serve to inspire, be it to show that even when you barely have a second to yourself you can pick up a little bit here and there, or that if you have the time and the inclination you can immerse yourself and become fluent in a comparatively short time.

These examples are, in my view, extreme. There is no doubt in my mind that Martin B and Carmine are very intelligent and focussed men. Most of us, me included, are neither particularly daft nor particulary bright. We have jobs and social lives and make the most of our free time. While the 'Holy Grail' in Gaelic is to reach fluency, what really makes the whole thing really come to life is to reach a conversational level - a level at which we can express ourselves. If you're doing the 'regular route' of distance learning by Cùrsa Inntrigidh followed by Cùrsa Adhartais with Sabhal Mòr Ostaig, that 'Eureka' moment comes roughly towards the end of the first year of Cùrsa Adhartais or during the second year.

The first two years of learning Gaelic, in my experience, can be the toughest. You learn and learn and learn and you still can't seem to be able to string a sentence together. Sure, you can say 'Ciamar a tha thu?' and as long as someone comes out with a response you know, you're good. You may get a few sentences down the line then the whole thing will stall. The person you're speaking to uses phrases and words you really don't understand, or you don't have the vocabulary to express what you want to say, and the sheer frustration makes you end up switching to English and you loose face.

However, if you keep at it and keep practicing your 'key phrases' and expanding your vocab, you'll eventually reach that Eureka moment where you hold your first conversation entirely in Gaelic. It might be broken Gaelic, there may be mistakes galore and the odd bit of 'Beurla' here and there, but you somehow manage to keep it all on track until the 'Mar sin leat' or 'Chì mi a-rithist thu' at the end. I guarantee you, the first time that happens, you'll be walking on air.

If you look back through the blog you'll see my frustration in the earlier days with the entry 'Why won't you talk to me?'

However, as I toured the Islands doing my project for 'Saoghal na Gàidhlig' (Module 7 of Cùrsa Adhartais') I found Gàidhlig gu leòr. It seems that if you stick at it, and people start to get to know you and know your story, you'll get Gaelic wherever it is found.

Of course, nobody but nobody ever stops learning Gaelic. Once you hit conversational level, the next stage is to expand your vocab and eliminate your mistakes until you hit fluency. Yet Gaelic is such a rich language, even the most fluent and learned speakers will always admit that there is plenty more out there to learn. That's the joy of Gaelic - its richness beyond measure. If you keep at it, it's all there for the taking.

You just have to keep going at your own pace; whether that is three months or three years, it really doesn't matter how long it takes to get there, just as long as you simply keep going. That's all you have to do.

The Invisible Gift Horse

Awaiting the Right Away, Scotland Bound again

There are many rewards, and frustrations, with learning Gaelic.

One of the frustrations I'm finding at the moment is that nobody within the Gaelic speaking community appears to acknowlege the existence of a very powerful asset that they have. Nobody appears to be looking outside the long-established bubble.

Anti-Gaelic bigotry is real, and I've only come across it in Scotland. Right now, some very narrow-minded and blinkered folk are working themselves up into a state about bilingual road and rail signs.

Yes, really!

Personally (maybe I'm biased) I love to see the bilingual signs. To my wide eyes they add a sense of place to this beautiful country, a 'uniqueness' that you only find outside England. It's also a daily reminder to non-Gaelic speakers of their native language's existence.

The bigots will argue that to support Gaelic is a waste of public money. In retort, the pro-Gaelic lobby will argue with the facts and figures that would suggest that money spent on the language is but a drop in the ocean. We could all find public projects that we don't agree with, but the joy of living in a democracy is that we need to allow others to enjoy their passions, skills, and creativity even if we don't understand. Even stuff we don't necessarily like or agree with adds to the fantastically rich and diverse culture of Scotland and of Great Britain in general. Me, I have no interest whatsoever in football. I don't really agree to my taxes paying to Police football matches, but a few million football fans would disagree with me. We live and let live.

Recently there was a survey about Gaelic learners. The study focussed soley on learners based in Scotland. During a recent course at Sabhal Mòr Ostaig, we were asked by a third party to give our feedback and ideas for BBC Alba. My form was whipped away from me when I said I was resident in England, as my views would be null and void. This is slightly ironic as a licence fee payer who mainly watches BBC Alba, albeit by the wonder of the internet or satellite.

My major source of frustration, as I hinted earlier, is that I don't really exist in the wider Gaelic picture. Neither do my friends R, M, M, J, and E in London. Or R in Wales. Or M&C from Misouri. Or S from Germany. Or anyone else living outwith Scotland who spends a considerable amount of their income on Gaelic.

It's not just the Cùrsaichean Goirid and the Cùrsaichean Air Astar that we pay (non-Scottish rates) for. There's the travel, the food and accommodation, and the countless cultural trips to Glasgow, the Highlands, and the Islands that we make. Ever since my discovery of the Outer Hebrides in 2009, I have been hemhorraging my hard-earned English pounds in Scotland. Like many of my learner colleagues and friends, learning Gaelic is a way for us to get right underneath and into this beautiful country and its culture.

For the fact and figure lovers, here is my spending over the last 12 months:

Cùrsa Adhartais, 4 x modules @ £450 = £1800
Cùrsa goirid, two weeks at approx £500 p/w including board & lodging: £1000
Food, lodging, site fees, fuel, ferry, accommodation in Glasgow, Highlands & Islands: £2,200

So that's £5000 or thereabouts from me alone. November/December last year was Harris and Lewis. January was Celtic Connections in Glasgow. Mar/Apr/May was a three month island tour. I'm intending to sneak a wee trip or two to Staffin and/or Tiree before the end of the year, as well as basing myself in Glasgow for 10 weeks just to improve my accent.


There are hundreds of us making the pilgrimage to Scotland every year to immerse ourselves in the Gaelic language and culture. Coming to Scotland - where the landscape speaks Gaelic - is a ritual we enjoy. We spend lots of money while we're doing it, as do visitors who are not Gaelic learners, but see the language and the culture as part of the very fabric of Scotland that they find so attractive.

I may be wrong, but as far as I am aware we are not being counted. I cannot find evidence of our existence in any report or study that I have come across. Here is this wonderful, gift-wrapped present for the pro-Gaelic lobby to exploit and highlight; this body of non-Scottish learners demonstrating that Gaelic can be, and is, a money magnet as well as a cultural asset.

Yet despite our contribution and commitment, we seem to remain invisible.

I'd love to be proved wrong. I hope I will be.

Where are you going with this?

'It's better to travel than to arrive' so the saying goes. Obviously a saying coined by someone who has never fought the M6 in order to get to Scotland.

But where am I going with learning Gaelic? What's the point?

Quite simply, if you look at the blog entry from a few days back ('Why is an Englishman learning Scottish Gaelic?') you'll see many of my motovations. However, it doesn't address what I want to acheive by all this study.

Having successfully completed An Cùrsa Inntrigidh at Sabhal Mòr Ostaig, I'm now on my first year (third module) of An Cùrsa Adhartais, a two year distance learning course which takes a similar format to An Cùrsa Inntrigidh. Fingers crossed, in a little over a year's time I shall be conversational in my abilities.

An then what? There are options. Maybe I'll continue my studies at Sabhal Mòr Ostaig and do something like Gaelic with Media Studies. Who knows.

In this consumerist and sometimes vacuuous world we live, people are often fixated with 'results' and 'goals'. There has to be some money-making or target-obssessive reason why you'd ever do something.

Do you know what? Knickers to all that. You can shove your corporate rubbish up your jumper.

It's lovely to do something that you enjoy and have absolutely no goal whatsoever. It's liberating, fun, and an utter joy to indulge in a spot of Gaelic learning just for the pure, simple, uncomplicated delight of enjoying the journey, and seeing where it ends up.