Mull and Iona
Grey clouds and drizzle to start our day, but nothing can dampen our spirits: we are off to Iona! Our bus was waiting at the head of the Craignure quay and Steve, our local driver, soon had us heading east across the island. Past Loch Don where the Viking longships once overwintered, past Loch Spelvie with its mussel farms, across Lussa salmon river, and up over the high pass into Glen More, and down to the shores of Loch Scridain. We spied several groups of red deer grazing alongside the road, squeezed over humpty bridges and twisted down the single track road while Steve entertained us with a witty monologue on Mull, its characters, history, geology and wildlife. Time at Fionnphort for a cup of tea before the ferry docked and then we were away across the water to Iona, with flocks of shags on the sea and gleaming white gannets diving into the clear waters of the Sound.
Once ashore on the jetty, we set off at once: so much to see! The 12th century nunnery built by Somerled, Lord of the Isles, the tiny vegetable plots with peas and potatoes, the organic gardens of the island community where flowers and salad crops mingle behind sheltering Hebe hedges. Sheep graze house lawns, a song thrush sings from a rooftop, all the sycamore trees with crumpled brown leaves are shooting anew after a Force 10 storm back in May. Then the heartland of the island: the ancient church of St. Oran with its extraordinary graveyard, in which lie 48 Scottish, 8 Norwegian, 4 Irish and 2 French kings. St. Columba landed here from Northern Ireland in 563, a humbled warrior keen to turn his face to nobler work. The tiny spreading plant Ivy-leaved toadflax which graces the walls here symbolizes his life for me: like him it found a precarious toehold on the rock of Iona and from this humble beginning spreads its simple beauty far and wide. Columba spent the last 34 years of his life preaching, meditating, coaching and inspiring eager acolytes to spread the word of Christianity. His eloquence and example created a lasting Christian renaissance across Scotland, thence into England and so to Europe, leading eventually to a string of monasteries in Germany, Switzerland and Italy. The magnificent 12th century Iona Abbey is built on the site of his modest 6th century chapel, was totally restored in the mid-1900s, and continues to inspire pilgrims to do good work in countries throughout the world.
After lunch at the St. Columba hotel, we took a variety of walks: back along the shore to the middle of the island, from Abbey back to the village, or out to the machair and white sand beaches of the north end. This party heard several corncrakes calling from the long grass meadows set aside for their conservation, and on the way back witnessed a riveting display from a pod of bottlenosed dolphins in the Sound, which were bow-riding local boats and even leaping clear of the water. Back to the ferry, and then our coach returned us across Mull to Craignure. As we pulled away north up the Sound of Mull, the captain spotted a Sea Eagle attacking a swimming gull, and many made it on deck in time to see this huge bird, with gleaming white tail, beating back to the far shore on 8’ wings.
We docked tonight at Tobermory, the colourful village at the north end of the island, and settled down to mull over our Mull day in suitably spiritual fashion with an after-dinner whisky-tasting session. Slainte!
