The Inner Hebrides:
Mull and Iona

Friday, July 11

This was an interesting part of our trip, but maybe not for good reasons all the way around. Getting to Mull was not bad, but getting to Iona was a different matter altogether.

We left Inverness in the rain, and it rained off and on all day. Our first stop wasn’t very far away: the Loch Ness Center at Drumnadrochit. We got there before it opened at 9:00, waited and went in, only to decide it wasn’t for us. There was a diorama, a multimedia show, and some areas more appealing to children. We then spent an hour in the very extensive series of shops and looking at Urquhart Castle from the land side.

We got back in the car and drove in the rain along way too many lochs for what seemed like days. We saw a series of locks, at the bottom of Loch Ness, I think, that I thought was Neptune’s Steps. I was disappointed to learn we had miles to go before that point. Then I was even more disappointed when we zoomed through Fort Arthur with never so much as a sign to point us in the right direction. It’s very careless of the Scots to pass up an oppurtunity to snag the tourists who drive rather than climb aboard a tour bus, don’t you think?

We stumbled along and got to Oban, on the coast, and went to the Tourist Information office. They made the ferry reservation for us, then we hit the ATM for cash. We didn’t have too long a wait for the ferry to load. In spite of the bad weather, the crossing wasn’t bad. That is, it wasn’t choppy enough to cause any discomfort on my part. When we got close to Mull, the sun was shining and everything looked good.

The ferry landed at Craignure and we had to drive quite a bit to reach Tobermory. The weather was a little gray again, but the biggest challenge was driving on a single-track road. I found out later that I handled the “Passing Places” incorrectly. We reached Tobermory, walked around the harbor some, and went in a couple of shops. Let me say this about Tobermory: the harbor and the street along the harbor itself are absolutely stunning after driving in the rain all day. In fact, that street is striking at any time.

Then we started toward the Strongardh House, our home for the next two nights. My Lord, what a difficult place to drive in! I missed a turn, or something, even backing around and doing a three-point turn just to go from one street to another. Once you leave the harbor, it was a whole new ballgame.

We did make it to Strongardh, and the house is gorgeous, even in this kind of weather. We have the large bedroom on the second floor. The bay window gives us a view of the outer harbor, anchored sailboats, and forest-covered hillsides beyond that. The room is huge and beautifully appointed. Judy jokingly said we should cancel our trip to Stirling and stay in Tobermory two extra days. It seems we have just about everything we could ask for in a B&B, including a gracious hostess.

There was a break in the weather, and we got to stretch our legs in the garden and relax a bit before heading down the hill for dinner. We walked down a wet dirt path along the narrow street, back into the town for supper. Downhill, of course. I’m certain that was actually easier than driving down there and back up. It was still early, so we went into the Mishnish Pub for a drink. I never thought I’d be glad to see a fire in July, but I almost knocked two people out of their chairs so I could sit by the fire. I didn’t do it, though. For us, this was an “authentic pub experience,” really a neat place. There were lots of locals, with enough tourists thrown in that we didn’t feel awkward. We then went to Gannets Restaurant for steak and mushroom pie. Good, solid, warming food.

Of course, when we headed back to Strongardh House, we had to walk up that wet dirt path. But we made it! Then we closed the window, closed the drapes against the light (at 10:00 PM), turned on the heat (in July!), and snuggled into our nice warm bed for a good night’s sleep.

Saturday, July 12

Today I learned that it is best to make reservations for the return ferry ride when you book your trip to Mull. I also learned that the ride from any one point on Mull to any other point on the island will take longer than planned. Much longer, in my case. Most of the time, I’m editing these comments as I review my notes and type them up for potentially public exposure. This time I’m going to just put it all out there, but I’ll spare you the need to read it here. The tale of our trip to Iona and then to Stirling is on another page. if you enjoy reading the trials and tribulations of wandering tourists in a strange land, check that page out.

Iona

We took the pedestrian ferry from Fionnphort to Iona, walked to the Abbey, and said several times we were glad we packed warm clothes. In general we were very glad not to have missed Iona just to make the 2:15 ferry from Craignure back to the “mainland.”

The Abbey was impressive as a monument, for its history, and not least because of the religious community that is there now. Maybe they’re a little new-age charismatic, but they’re seemingly earnest, with a grand scope and global outlook. That’s cool. Some very simple things–a wooden cross with a red drape and a prayer for peace–were very moving. So were the egg with an early Christian symbol, the modern sculpture in the center of the Cloister, and the eighth-century cross. I’m really glad we went there. The ruins around the rest of Iona are evidence of the stature the island once had among Christians in an earlier time. That was moving in a different way.

We took a lot of photographs of Tobermory, Mull, and Iona. In fact, we took so many they’re one a separate page of their own.

When we got back to Craignure to find there had been many cancellations, perhaps by others who had planned as poorly as we did. That meant we could catch the 4:15 ferry and not have to wait for an extra two hours.

The drive from Oban to Stirling was uneventful. Some more beautiful scenery, another lovely glen, more big boulders, altogether lovely. We got to XI Victoria Square and were met by a loquacious host with a brogue so thick we could hardly understand him. Fun, again. We walked to Papa Joe’s, ate pizza, called Sara, and crashed. Our real visit to Stirling would have to wait until the next day.