The bunkhouse was quite nice and I had no desire to head off in the rain so I decided to stay another day and make the most of the relative comfort.
The bunkhouse was quite near to Duart Castle, the seat of the Clan Maclean who once ruled over Mull, Jura, Islay and part of Argyll, so I thought I’d take a look. The two old ladies staying in the bunkhouse were also heading there so I gave them a lift and ended up walking around with them. It is a well positioned castle, right on the NE corner of Mull where the Sound of Mull meets the inner seas off the West Coast of Scotland. It is almost opposite Oban. On a good day (which unsurprisingly this was not) you could see for miles and have a commanding view of all the sea traffic. Apparently this was a stopping point for ships travelling between Ireland and Norway.
The castle was interesting to look around and then I was treated to two coffees in the cafe where I listened to Jean and Rosemary’s stories for over 2 hours. They had both worked in social care in Glasgow and so were better versed in the world of prison and drugs than me. It was fascinating.
In the afternoon I drove them off the main road a bit and we went down to Lochbuie for a look.
There was a small post office on the shore which operates on a help yourself basis with an honesty box. Jean and Rosemary had another coffee while I walked along the shore in the rain, just as far as Moy Castle.
It had been a chilled day and I had enjoyed the company. In the evening I went to the pub next door for some food and a pint. It was still raining on and off.
Tobermory to Craignure, driving anti-clockwise around Mull
Driving tour, 4 miles walked
Sharing a room with 5 strangers meant I woke early. Unsurprisingly the sky was dark grey and it was pouring with rain but I decided to get going anyway. I wanted to visit Iona and had decided to drive a long, circuitous route around Mull to get there.
The drive along the South side of Loch Na Keal and then around Loch Scridain was on a road that pretty much bordered each loch. I kept my eyes peeled for otters but no such luck. I saw lots of herons and a few other birds but not a lot else. I think most of the wildlife was sheltering from the bad weather.
The drive was scenic, with water on one side and mountains on the other. I couldn’t see Ben More, Mull’s Munro, through the clag but it was nice driving the windy, up and down roads. I was reminded of the Lake District, which I think was because of the trees. On any other day there would also be stunning views to Coll and Tiree.
I arrived at Fionnphort, the tip of Ross of Mull, in time for the 9.55 am ferry across the Sound of Iona.
The sky was very dark and the short 10 minute crossing was surprisingly rough. Having seen the influence of St Columba in Lindisfarne and around N Scotland I thought I ought to visit the island where his legend started.
St Columba was from Ireland but arrived on Iona and founded the Iona Abbey in 563. This small island still attracts pilgrims and has its own Christian community (the Iona Community) who fervently believe in pacifism and go on peace marches so I didn’t mention I am ex-RAF.
The sea around Iona has some fantastic colours: green through to black. It is pretty impressive, as is the sound the sea makes. Some people say it’s all quite spiritual; I thought the water was quite shallow and sandy, hence the wonderful green colour, and the large amounts of seaweed accounted for the darkness.
Upon arriving on Iona I walked through the ruins of the old nunnery. I was fascinated to learn that buildings like this often had a carving of a naked woman with her legs apart, called a Sheena-Na-Gig, to ward off evil. Fortunately this carving was worn away so no eyes can be offended! (The information board was more graphic.) The sky was so black that I went into the Heritage Centre next and enjoyed an hour reading about Iona’s history while the rain bucketed down. I emerged into a flash flood along the road, but I was dry. That was £2.50 well spent!
I was going to go to the Abbey next but all of a sudden there was blue sky and sunshine so instead I walked across the island to the West side (it’s a good 15 minute walk from one side of the island to the other) to the famous St Columba’s Bay. First I had to cross the Iona golf course – definitely not worth a trip to play on this course!
St Columba’s Bay was quite nice. I think I was expecting too much and have seen too many great beaches to be blown away by it. It’s mostly a stony beach with some white sand and the sea has lots of rocks and seaweed in it. The sound of the sea is supposed to be amazing?!
Just a bit further on from St Columba’s Bay is Port Ban, a smaller bay and this one has beautiful white sand and the sea looks amazing.
There was a woman in swimming but I didn’t feel like it. Although the view was wonderful, the sea had a lot is seaweed in it and the burn running into it was red with iron and that gave the sea a reddish tinge. Beautiful to look at but it didn’t call me for a swim.
After sitting on a high rock overlooking Port Ban for an hour I walked back across the saturated golf course and headed for the Abbey. It was early afternoon and more people were arriving with every ferry; it reminded me of my trip to Lindisfarne.
The Abbey is the main draw on Iona and also houses people on Iona Community courses. It is not the original Abbey that St Columba founded in 563 but is the 1900s version. It is still clearly a place that is venerated by many people but I was just interested in the history, not the spirituality.
Just as I was thinking I’d had enough I saw a ferry coming in so I hurried down to the quayside to get on it. This time the water was calmer and I could see the sand beneath and some fantastic hues of green and blue.
Once back on Mull I headed a bit further South to look at a couple of beaches shown on my map. I had been told the beaches at Ross of Mull were fantastic so I diverted to take a look and this one was rather nice. Behind the beach was Machair grassland, which is a protected habitat and gives the beach a sheltered feel thanks to the grassland and dunes. I think the beaches on the West coast of Arisaig, Ardnamurchan and Mull are all quite similar, it’s just that some are bigger and more remote.The cloud was coming back as I drove across the Island, along Glen More to Craignure. I would definitely like to come back to Mull. I reckon this would be a great island to walk around and perhaps then I would see some of the wildlife that eluded me this time, including otters, red deer and eagles.
Craignure Bunkhouse was a nice surprise as it was modern, clean and hospitable, and I was able to do some much needed laundry. I was sharing a room with 2 old ladies, Jean and Rosemary, as well as another lady. Two French girls turned up late having missed their bus connecting so, in the absence of the warden, we found them some bedding and fixed them up in our room for the night as we couldn’t just turf them out.
Jean and Rosemary were a hoot and Jean was telling stories late into the night. She has been hostelling for 61 years (she’s 77 years old) and seems to take all her holidays in hostels, sometimes with her children and grandchildren as well. She was a fascinating lady. I fell asleep to her stories and woke up to her snoring!
Around the Southern part of Mull (and Iona) many of the locals have put out ‘scarecrows’. These were two of the best.
What a big week! I covered so many miles and saw so much. I had no idea just how lovely the area around Glasgow is. The Trossachs looked stunning. And there is so much water, everywhere you look.
This week I reached the Mull of Kintyre and the Mull of Galloway, and I got close enough to Ireland to see it across the sea.
Such a wonderful week; however, I was starting to feel the need to get walking again. By the end of the week the weather was improving and I was reaching places that would be easy to walk around; they even had paths! I was also feeling the need for a break and the desire to go home. How fortuitous that having a car meant I could get home without too much added expense.
I have really enjoyed seeing much of the West coast of Scotland by car – it actually worked out rather well for me.
I woke to a beautiful sunny day and packed up quickly to make the most of the early morning. My first stop was the Mull of Galloway, the Southern tip of The Rhins and Scotland’s most Southerly point. I parked the car and walked to the tip. Wow. It was glorious, and there was no one around so I got it all to myself – the quiet, the light, the creeping warmth of the sun. How lucky am I?
As I was leaving I spotted a strange round tower in a field that had steps all around it. I always have to climb these things, just for the hell of it. I began the long drive around Luce Bay (I think they named it after me). It was a lovely drive and Luce Sands looked like a lovely big beach.
On the East side of the bay I stopped in Port William, a pretty little town full of the same terraced houses I’d seen going up the East coast of Scotland. Killantrae Burn flowed through the town and right past the old piggery and abattoir. Although no longer used for that purpose, it’s history was celebrated by filling the yard with plastic pigs. I quite liked it.
There was a wonderful statue of a man looking across the sea to Ireland.
Just after Monreith I stopped to look at a memorial by the side of the road. It was an otter and celebrated the author Gavin Maxwell who was from the area and had kept pet otters.
At the eastern end of Luce Bay, just before Burrow Head, is St Ninian’s Cave. I parked up and walked the mile or so down Physgill Glen to a small beach with a cave at one end. This was apparently the place where Scotland’s first saint retreated to pray and reflect. It is clearly still a pilgrim site as there were many crosses, carvings and prayers on the walls. Quite an amazing place.
Next stop was the Isle of Whithorn. It’s not actually an Isle but a small town at the end of a natural inlet.
On the headland is the remains of St Ninian’s Chapel. St Ninian was the first Christian missionary to come to Scotland around 400AD. For centuries, Isle of Whithorn was the landing place for pilgrims coming from Wales, France, Spain, Ireland and Scandinavia.
There is a huge witness cairn and the whole place had an incredible feel to it.
Just inland from the Isle of Whithorn was Whithorn so I diverted there to take a look.
Here was Whithorn Priory, the earliest known Christian foundation in Scotland. It was established about 500AD by St Ninian, whose monastery became a site visited by the likes of Robert The Bruce and King James IV. He also built the Candida Casa, the little white church. So much history in one small corner of Scotland!I finished my day with a quick stop in Wigtown; I had no idea this was Scotland’s National Book Town. So many book shops to choose from but I picked one and went in to buy a book. I came away with Gavin Maxwell’s Ring of Brightwater, and John McNeillie’s Wigtown Ploughman.
It was time for my road trip to come to an end and, as I was a long way from Inverness where I had hired my car, I had negotiated to drop it back at Heathrow Airport, which isn’t too far from home. That way I could visit home for a couple of weeks. I had decided to drive via Ali’s house in Edinburgh to collect my old tent and rucksack that she had been keeping for me.
It was lovely to catch up with Ali and Morna again, and nice to spend the evening with friends before my long drive home tomorrow.
Isabel fed me up and I particularly enjoyed her homemade muesli. I could have easily settled down for another few hours of chatting but she rightly set me on my way to find the next adventure. It was a fine day as I drove across the Erskine Bridge and along the River Clyde front to Port Glasgow and then Greenock.
It was lovely to stand in Greenock and look across to Dunoon – I got a better view of the place than when I’d been there thanks to the change in weather.
From Greenock/Gourock, right on the bend of the Clyde, there are ferries going across the Clyde to Helensburgh, or to Dunoon, or to Kilcreggan on the Rosneath Peninsula. I had other ideas however so I left the Clyde behind and turned South towards Largs.
I passed through West Wemyss (there was one of these in Fife!) and got to admire the view across to the Isle of Bute. It wasn’t the most scintillating of drives but the sun was out so it was pleasant.
I stopped in Largs to stretch my legs and look across to the 2 islands of Great Cumbrae and Little Cumbrae, and then carried on to Ardrossan.
After chatting to Isabel I had decided I would like to get the ferry to Bute and, ideally, to climb Goatfell as I expected some wonderful views that would take in the Kintyre peninsula, the beautiful lochs and mountains of Argyll and Bute and Ayrshire. Unfortunately, I hadn’t banked on huge queues for the ferry, well it is holiday season I suppose.
I changed my plans and carried on South through Ayrshire, around the big sweep of Irvine Bay to Troon, Prestwick and Ayr. By now the sun was warm and the sky a deep blue, perfect weather for leaving the car behind. However, the road was next to the sea and the further I drove the better views I got so I carried on, and on, and on.
At Girvan I stopped to stare at Ailsa Craig, the remains of a volcanic plug 10 miles out in the Irish Sea. It’s the place where the blue granite that is used to make all the world’s curling stones is quarried.
I decided I might as well carry on to Stranraer and onto the “hammerhead” peninsula that juts out into the Irish Sea and faces Belfast. Here I was sure I’d find a nice campsite.
There was a big ferry in Loch Ryan, at Stranraer terminal, but the town seemed rather deserted. I carried on, straight across The Rhins Peninsula, to Portpatrick. It had clearly been a busy day by the seaside for lots of people and so unfortunately I was greeted by lots of detritus around the harbour and the town. It’s a quaint town and obviously a popular holiday destination. It was once the main port for ferried to Northern Ireland, until it was decided the shelter of Stranraer was preferable. I didn’t want to stay in Portpatrick so I decided to head back to Stranraer, get an early dinner, and hunt on the Internet for campsites. I stopped at Henry’s Bay House overlooking Loch Ryan for an early bird special.
I found a nice little campsite in the middle of The Rhins. It was very sheltered (not that I required that tonight) with fire pits and looked lovely for families.
Once I’d got my tent pitched I walked up the short hill to the Agnew Monument, from where I could admire the views in the setting sunshine.
I awoke to sunshine, which was a nice surprise. Everybody seemed to creep around the small youth hostel so I decided to walk back along Inveraray high street to find a nice breakfast in a small cafe/B&B.
It gave me a chance to appreciate the views across Loch Fyne and the small Loch Shira, which is really just a bay of the huge Loch Fyne.
Today seemed like a good day for a walk and I was itching to stretch my legs after a very long day of driving yesterday. I was surrounded by mountains but didn’t have an OS map of the area. Fortunately there was a map pinned to the wall in the youth hostel and so, after studying it for a while, I decided to head over to the tip of Loch Long and walk up The Cobbler (Ben Arthur). The map indicated a good path and, without a map, I was set to break one of my rules about walking without a back-up means of navigation so I determined that I would only walk to the top if it was a well trodden path. With a plan made I set off, driving back around the top of Loch Fyne and following the A83 back up Glen Kinglas, the main road following the same route as an old military road. I was still retracing yesterday’s route (but with some visibility today) until I reached the wonderfully named ‘Rest and be thankful’ viewing area at the high point between Glen Kinglas (leading to Loch Fyne) and Glen Croe (leading to Loch Long). What a beautiful spot and today I could admire the view that wasn’t visible yesterday.
The road descended down Glen Croe, through Ardgartan Forest and in fact skirted around the mountain I intended to walk up, although I couldn’t see it through the trees. I reached Loch Long and stopped at the car park on the edge of Succoth, the town at the Northern tip of the Loch. There were lots of cars parked and people setting off hiking so I decided that, even though I was map-less, I would follow the well-marked path and not deviate from it. I knew where I was heading – to the top of The Cobbler and back – so it shouldn’t be difficult and there seemed to be plenty of other people with the same idea as me and making the most of a break in the bad weather.
What a wonderful climb up to the summit of Ben Arthur at 884m. The rocky top does look a little like a cobbler mending a shoe.
Once I was above Ardgartan Forest the path followed a stream to the col between the 2 summits of The Cobbler and Beinn Narnain (926m). Tempting as it was to head for the higher peak, there was no well trodden path so without a map I stuck to my original plan. I passed lots of people on my walk up and down this mountain – no one passed me so I must still be pretty walk fit even after so long sat in a car.
There was a round route to the summit with steps going up and then a more difficult descent down the rocks. How typical that the weather should close in when I reached the top!
Still, the views on the way up were magnificent and I was enjoying the exercise.
It took me just over 3 hours to complete my walk and so there was plenty of time for some more sightseeing when I arrived back at the car at 2pm.
I drove around the head of Loch Long, through Arrochar, and then took a wee road up and through Glen Douglas, crossing over the hills to Inverbeg on the shore of Loch Lomond. This was a stunningly beautiful drive. Although nothing is marked on the map I guess there’s some military bunkers here as there was a lot of security and megaphones were in operation. I am around the corner from Faslane after all. After a few miles driving down the Western shore of Loch Lomond I cut back across Glen Fruich to Garelochhead and the Rosneath Peninsula – a tear drop between Loch Long and Gare Loch. This is Royal Navy country and I drove past Coulport and Faslane (one on each loch).
The Rosneath peninsula is not very large but it was worth driving around to see the views looking South across the Firth of Clyde to Greenock and Dunoon. A great spot to shelter submarines.
Finally, I drove down the East shore of Gare Loch and stopped on the sea front in Helensburgh, once again facing across the Clyde to Greenock and Port Glasgow, and across the mouth of Gare Loch to Rosneath Point. It had been a fantastic drive cross-crossing between the lochs; there is so much water and beauty around Glasgow.
It was late afternoon and my final stop was Morna’s mum’s house in Balloch. I headed out of Helensburgh via a quick stop to peer through the fence at Hill House, designed and built in 1902 by Charles Rennie Mackintosh for the Blackie family. Unfortunately I had missed opening hours.
I had a wonderful evening in the company of Isabel. I don’t think I have ever stayed in a cleaner house and she is a real inspiration for all the activities she gets up to in her eighties. It was lovely to be treated to good food and great company.
I woke to the sound of rain thundering on the roof of the Dive Centre. I had done some handwashing the previous evening and none of it had dried in the damp weather. I draped it all around the car, ate some cereal and headed off to catch the early ferry from Lochaline to Fishnish on Mull. The ferry had a technical problem that meant the 4 cars waiting to board had to drive on and turn themselves around. No problem with only 4 cars but there was a longer queue when we got off at the other side.
I had done no research on Mull and had only bought a rudimentary map yesterday. I was therefore in the unusual position of having no idea what to go and see, no idea of where I was going to stay and no plan. So I drove West to Tobermory, the main town. It has a pretty high street facing the harbour that is used for a well known children’s TV programme and so is now quite a well-visited place. It is pretty with all the buildings painted in bright colours.
It was still pouring with rain when I parked and went to the tourist information point to find some accommodation. I had thought I would camp but the forecast is terrible for the weekend so I was lucky to get availability in 2 hostels.
The girls in the Dive Centre (the owners were out diving so I only saw their daughters) had recommended the Tobermory Bakery and the Chocolate Shop. I went to the Bakery for coffee and a croissant; very nice too.
The man at the ferry terminal/tourist information had recommended a couple of walks and things to see. Mull has more forest than the rest of the West Coast and this seems to have attracted Sea Eagles and Golden Eagles. It would be amazing to see one of them. I didn’t know that Mull has lots of wildlife, including a large otter population. I guessed that Mull had lots of wildlife when I drove through the small coastal town of Salen and saw loads of birds right by the shore. There was even a road sign telling me to beware of otters running across the road. I got a great view of a buzzard that was sat pretty close and just looked at me.
I drove to the NW corner, near Glengorm Castle (which is a hotel) and went for a walk.
Past the Castle there is a set of standing stones (there are many around here) and further on there is some forest (possibly with Eagles) and the small Mingarry Loch.
There were lots of Highland Cattle wandering around, including calves and a bull, but they just looked at me through their wet shaggy fringes.
After half an hour I was soaked through but carried on to Loch Mingarry where I found a nature hide.
I took shelter in it and spent almost an hour watching for wildlife. It was not as good as if I’d had binoculars; I think even the birds were hiding from the rain. I saw lots of herons fishing, a curlew, geese, a few gulls and Oystercatchers, but no Eagles or otters. Ah well.
Back at the car I had more wet clothes to drape everywhere and so I drove off in my Chinese laundry. I spent a couple of hours driving a circular route that took in most of the West Coast of North Mull.
It is quite a dramatic coastline with some good cliffs and great views, particularly to Mull’s own set of small islands: Ulva, Gometra, the Treshnish Isles, Little Colonsay and Staffa.
Unfortunately today was not a good day for views. I enjoyed the drive nonetheless and did see a rather angry looking waterfall that was quite impressive.
I also stopped at Calgary Beach, with its beautiful sand and clear sea.
Back in Tobermory I checked into the Youth Hostel on the High Street and went to the pub along the road. Just my luck they were short on chefs tonight so were no longer serving food when I went to order. A quick trip to Co-op and it was a pasta meal for me.
Today was predicted to be the nicest day of the week and I had a long drive ahead of me, hopefully with some good views.
First stop was the Prince’s Cairn at the head of Loch Nan Uamh. This was where Bonny Prince Charlie landed in Scotland, and from where he made his escape on a French ship. Clan Ranald had supported him and there is reputedly still some buried gold in the area, treasure rescued from the battle between the English and French ships (the French were sided with the Scottish Stuarts).
I took a slight detour to see Castle Tioram on the edge of Loch Moidart. This was once the main residence of the Clan Ranald Macdonalds. It is perched on a rock that can be reached across the sandy beach at low tide, facing the North and Aouth channels of Loch Moidart as they envelope Eilean Shona.
I drove through the village of Acharacle, which seemed to be right in the heart of holiday home country. There looked to be some good fishing rivers around here and Possibly some hunting as I saw a few deer antlers hung up on houses. I stopped at the tea room; one of the nicest tea rooms I’d been in. Like others in these small places it was a community-run facility and attached to the only shop-come-post office in the village. It does seem like the most enterprising villages set up tea rooms and the like (sometimes in their village halls) to take advantage of the passing tourist trade. It’s a great idea and provides me with much needed(?) coffee and cake.
The Point of Ardnamurchan is the most Westerly point of the UK mainland (27 miles further West than Land’s End) and today was a great day to visit. It is a long drive across the Ardnamurchan peninsula, which was once a volcano. Aerial photos show clear circles in the landscape and it is possible to see cone sheets caused by volcanic activity around Ben Hiant. Apparently these are world famous. They do look quite impressive.
Whilst waiting at some traffic lights just before the lighthouse (only set of traffic lights I’ve seen on these single track roads) I was able to watch some Red Deer munching the grass. They were not bothered by me in the slightest.
I arrived at the Point just as the clouds parted and the sky became blue. Perfect timing for a trip to the top of the lighthouse to admire the amazing view.
The old lighthouse keeper (he was on the keeper list before the lighthouse was automated in 1988) showed me around and loaned me his expensive binoculars. I could see the Small Isles, the tips of the Cuillins on Skye and out as far as Barra and South Uist of the Outer Hebrides.
There were several yachts in the sea as this seems to be a good place for sailing. I could also see a couple of Ardnamurchan beaches, including Sanna. Similar to Arisaig, the sand was white and there were lots of small rocks just off shore that become islands at high tide, but these beaches were bigger and more difficult to get to so would be less crowded.
Apparently there were lots of basking sharks right here by the rocks last year, but none so far this year.
The beach at Sanna Bay had looked so nice that I drove around to Portuairk to admire the white sand and the lovely colour of the sea. I keep seeing so many kayaks around here – this seems to be a great coastline for sea kayaking.
The drive back along the side of Loch Sunart was beautiful.
I stopped briefly at Strontian (the town after which the element Strontium is named!) to get some fuel and then headed South across Morvern to the Sound of Mull. The clouds were closing in and I was glad I’d booked into a hostel for the night as the forecast was for very heavy rain. Lochaline Dive Centre was a very relaxed place – I didn’t even see the owners. I was too late for the shop, where I could have got food and tokens for the launderette. Instead it was toast and handwashing for me. Still, I had a bed for the night and was out of the rain.
The rain eased off during the night and the order of the day was wind instead (and a bit of rain but also a bit of sun). I couldn’t miss out on the opportunity of attending a Highland Games whilst up here and this one was right opposite my campsite.
There was a big arena with a ‘running track’ marked with flags placed in a circle and a wooden stage in the corner. A pipe band led a the Clan Ranald representatives onto the field and the Clan Ranald chief made a speech (he sang a Gaelic song) to open the Games.
There was plenty going on. The ‘Heavies’ competition (big men throwing all different weights and tossing the caber) went on all afternoon in the middle of the arena with other competitions going on around it. I saw highland dancing, bagpiping, running races, high jump and long jump. It was all good fun and there was prize money on offer (£100 for winning a bagpiping competition, £10 for a highland dancing event).
People had come from far and wide to watch, and indeed to take part – an Aussie lady won all the highland dancing trophies and a Canadian was competing in the Heavies. Most of the running races were open events that anyone could enter but unfortunately I had left my trainers at home.
The bagpiping competition apparently was a very high standard and had 3 professional pipers in it. I was told the man who won is considered to be one of the top pipers in the world. I was supporting the young guy from Hong Kong who was representing the RAF (I have no idea how this came about as he wasn’t very talkative).
A great fun day out!
In the evening I drove along Loch Morar, just inland of Mallaig, as it was quite a nice evening. Such a beautiful, peaceful loch.
It rained all night and persistently all day as well. When I got up I discovered my tent was now surrounded by puddles and bog, which wasn’t a great sign but I just left it and hoped it would survive. I drove back to Mallaig just for the hell of the twisty, turny drive and the views of small white beaches. I parked up by the port and made some cheese and tomato sandwiches with the rest of yesterday’s provisions. A fine breakfast, and washed down with a coffee. I spent some time trying to plan and then drove back to Arisaig to catch the 11 am ferry to Eigg.
The campsite manager had recommended the Arisaig ferry rather than the Calmac ferry from Mallaig as “if they see wildlife they divert to go and look at it”. That sounded like the ferry for me. There were lots of sea kayakers already out paddling in Loch nan Ceal and the Sound of Sleat. We were about halfway across the Sound when someone yelled “whale” and everyone on board scrambled for a view. The boat driver idled the engine and we looked, and looked, and eventually it popped up for a breath. On the 3rd time I finally saw it (it didn’t move in a straight line and we weren’t steady either so you had to be in the right place on the boat and looking in the right direction to get a view). I saw it 3 times and the driver chased it for a bit. It was one, or maybe two (the fins looked different) Minke Whales. Fantastic. I also saw a couple of Dolphins that were playing with some sea kayakers, but they were in the distance.
We were 15 minutes late landing at Eigg but no one cared. It’s a small island that I don’t have a map for nor had I done any research about it so I decided to walk up An Sgurr, the big ‘cliff’ that dominates the island. I bought a postcard with a rubbish map on it just in case, even though it was useless, because I felt naked without a map. It took me just over an hour to negotiate the mud and the bog to the top. It was worth it for the amazing views…not today!
It was still raining and everything was shades of grey. I could see the closer islands and vaguely make out the mainland in the distance but that was it. At least the walk was enjoyable; I like going up hills.
The way down seemed trickier as the rain was coming down harder and the rocks were slippy. Time for a mug of tea and a cake in the tea room.
I braved the weather again to wander around the beach, whereupon I was dive bombed by some terns.
The wind had picked up for the ferry back and so it was a case of hunkering down out of the spray. A few birds but no cetaceans to be seen.
I drove into Mallaig again in the hope of getting some wifi but didn’t succeed. I headed back to the campsite, checked my tent wasn’t flooded, and popped across the road to the field where the Highland Games will be taking place tomorrow. There was a beer tent and some live ceilidh music so I hung around for a bit. It was freezing cold and I was wearing all of my top layers (but still wearing my shorts).