Ardtoe

A little windy last night Marge, at least it was blowing on to the shore. On to the shore, off the shore, along the shore, I didn’t care for it. No neither did we.

Never mind, look at the cattle on the beach dipping a hoof or two into the rolling surf. Others nibbled at the ropes on the lobster pots and another nibbled at a crab. Is this normal behaviour for cows? They’re not going to start sniffing around me are they. Probably not Marge, they are more interested in the lush grass in front of you. John greeted our French neighbours with a bonjour. Turned out they were English in a French registered van.

Not wanting to leave Elgol too late in case we encountered too many vehicles travelling down to the harbour we left early. The hill out of the village was serious. Very serious. At least a 20% gradient with two bends. By the time we reached the top Marge’s engine had been revved within an inch of its life. As the road levelled out slightly a group of sheep decided to wander across it, stopping halfway. By now Angela had shaking knees, a pounding heart and could barely breath. She thought her heart was going to stop coming up the hill, John quipped, you sound like you might have just had an orgasm!

Unrelenting heavy rain accompanied us all the way to the ferry at Armdale. As we awaited its arrival the wind speed became a bit of a worry. The crossing to Mallaig looks like it might be a little rough Marge. Oh to be sunning ourselves on a warm beach somewhere without a care. That wouldn’t be us though, not enough drama. We sat in Marge during the forty-five minute crossing. It was so bumpy it felt like we were driving over a heavily potholed road without being in control of the steering wheel. Then things stepped up a notch. The motorhome in front of us began swinging from side to side like a pendulum. Sick bag anyone?

Back on dry land, stomachs settled we retraced our steps of four weeks ago driving back to the Ardnamurchan Peninsula.

At Glenuig we stopped to use the public showers at the very nice village hall at just two pounds each. Bargain. On the interent there is a list of all the showers for public use in Scotland, including the islands. Some are at village halls, others sports centres, at Tobermory on Mull, the marina. We were headed to Ardtoe once again. Coincidentally we were there exactly a month ago. As we travelled the slow narrow road we noticed the green of late summer had been replaced with bronze, yellow and red of autumn. At the side of the road we twice saw deer. What a difference four weeks had made. But Ardtoe looked the same. As we arrived the tide was out and the little fishing boat owned by an English couple who live nearby sat lopsided on the beach.

Ardtoe was introduced to us by a couple we met last year, and we’ve fallen in love with the tiny village and cove. In fact we love the Ardnamurchan peninsula of which some areas are considered to be some of Scotland’s west coast’s best kept secrets. We are pleased we had a chance meeting with a couple who love the area so much they visit it to bird watch several times a year. Settling Marge, we fully waterproofed ourselves and walked out in the now light rain. Along the narrow lane we scanned the verge and amongst the birch trees for edible fungi.

We found plenty that weren’t edible like the pretty red and white spotted ones fairies sit on. The rain halted and pleased to be outside we walked quite a way.

But walking isn’t enough for us. Let’s scramble up this rocky outcrop to check out the view and the setting sun. It was worth it. The views were stunning. Up on a hill opposite four roe deer watched us.

The light fading, reminding us of the season we turned back spotting yet more deer in the trees. Then a young one stood in the road staring at us with interest.

Upon our return to Marge, John spotted another down on the beach. That was fourteen in total. We are loving being so in touch with nature and the wildlife.