Bunnahabhain Bay, Isle of Islay

What we didn't expect before we'd even eaten breakfast at Corrin Sands on Jura was a lady dog walker stopping to ask if we had a toilet. Why? Did she require the use of it? It seems that human waste in the area is a problem. Her mission, and quite rightly so, was to try and educate people in its disposal. She hands out dog poo bags to those without facilities. Jura is a very small island, and we were shocked to hear people were behaving so badly.

(Note the names of the small islands)

The hotel Jura has a camping area at the front with beautiful sea views and five star toilets, showers and laundry room. Two pounds fifty for two showers and use of the hairdryer seemed a bargain to us. We were even able to carry out some hand washing before shopping at the community shop and then stopping for coffee at The Antlers cafe restaurant where we conversed with a couple from the Cotswolds who touring in a very nice Aston Martin. We weren't sure the low slung body and low profile wheels were really suitable for some of Scotland's roads. Everyday we find ourselves in conversation with many people. It's true what is said. Travelling is not all about the places you visit, but also the people you meet along the way.

Tonight we are back on Islay staying right beside the Bannahabhain distillery. The weather has been beautiful and we were able to walk out to a nearby cove.  Then a look in the distillery shop where some bottles of whisky would set you back over two thousand pounds. With limited signal for the internet we reverted to 'old fashioned fun', scouring the beach for sea glass and skimming stones. By late evening the visitors all gone along with the workman who'd been erecting a new fence nearby whilst jigging to Scottish music, it was just us, the oystercatchers and black guillemots to watch the sun go down.

The Paps of Jura, just across the sound.

Corran Sands, Isle of Jura

The first job after breakfast this morning was to once again navigate the Calmac ferry website in order to book a ferry crossing today to the island of Islay. After a lot of exasperation and swearing we managed to secure a space on the lunchtime sailing. Talking to our Swiss neighbours we discovered they were also heading to Islay. See you there then. They are spending two months in Scotland and England  including Cornwall. Their van was quite large, but the chap had driven in Cornwall before and seemed quite unfazed by the narrow roads and tall hedgerows. He also thought the Scottish weather of sunshine and rain was perfect. Are we missing something here? 

We felt excited as we boarded our ferry at Kennacraig on Kintyre. The small islands we were heading for were new ground for us. As many of you may know, Islay and Jura are famed for whisky produced at the many distilleries.

Two hours after leaving the mainland we arrived at the tiny port of Askaig. This had been our eleventh ferry crossing since arriving in Scotland, and now we were about to embark on our twelfth, taking the small ferry that crossed the sound of Islay to Jura. Less than an hour later we arrived at a beautiful beach with views to die for.

 The bright blue waters and white sand  could rival many a beach in the Caribbean. Stunning. But the island is small, with only two hundred inhabitants. Back in the nineteenth century many people left to find better lives in America and Canada. George Orwell thought the island so peaceful he rented a whitewashed house, Barnwell House beneath the slopes of bog cotton and purple foxgloves in a remote area inaccessible by car, to write his final work 1984. The island is certainly the place if you want to get away from it all.

A poem written by an emigre from the Isle of to Jura,
to North Carolina in the United States.

Farewell to Jura
No more I'll climb the mountains high
To view the meeting sea and sky.
The stately vessels passing by
on every side of Jura

Give honour to the great the brave
The sordid souls the gold they crave
Give me a walk at dusky eve
Along the shores of Jura

How dear to me thy every scene
When sun shines o'er the Western Main
Or when he walks and spreads again
His golden beams o'er Jura

By simple nature's power impressed
There friendship glows in every breast
The stranger is a welcome quest
At every hearth in Jura

From strife of noisy towns secure
These mortals spend their lives obscure
And long may harmony endure
Throughout the Isle of Jura

Though n'er to tread thy shores again
My heart with thee shall aye remain
Where'er I wander I'll retain
My dearest wish for Jura

Jessie Scott, Knockintavill Farm
Feb 27th 1871

Carnasserie Castle, Kilmartin Glen

One last walk out this morning in beautiful sunshine. We were sad to be leaving Lochbuie, but also excited about discovering parts of Scotland we've not yet visited. As we began our drive along the narrow winding road the cloud crept across the top of Ben Buie. A reminder how the weather here in Scotland can suddenly change. We allowed ourselves plenty of time to drive to Craignure, arriving in good time for the ferry that would take us back to Oban on the mainland.

As Mull slipped away, Oban soon came into view. And upon our arrival we were thrown back into a busy, noisy world we didn't want to be part of.

Today was our shower day, and comments on the internet said the facilities on the Railway Pier should be avoided at all cost. Angela googled and found there was a leisure centre a few minutes out of town. £1.95 each and we were sorted. Now, we've been fairly lucky so far with showers, today however was a little different. Angela, sixty four, with the body of a twenty year old, she is not. Despite the showers being communal she undressed, showered and dressed in two minutes. Fortunately no one else arrived to join her. John, being John, locked the door in the men's so he had full exclusivety. The main thing is we now smell a little sweeter.

We have left the Highlands now, and are missing the constant presence of the sheep who have provided us with much joy and entertainment over the last few weeks. On the drive to our overnight stop we saw a group of ewes in a field who had just realised the farmer had let the rams join them. And they didn't look happy! Enjoy your evening girls.

It's been a long day. Travelling, banking and shopping in Oban and driving down country to tonight's stop at Carnasserie Castle. Upon arriving we realized we've stayed here before. Two other vans were already here, one Swiss who we're parked next to. Their television aerial is up. Oh how we're missing the quiet of Mull.

We walked up to the castle, open twenty four seven, and free to enter. The views from the top were stunning. Tired, but happy we are looking forward to tomorrow when we will hopefully be able to catch a ferry over to Islay. Island life suits us, so we can't wait.

Lochbuie, Isle of Mull (our last night before the mainland)

John was greeted first thing by one of the resident Chaffinches turning up looking for breakfast.

We were very disappointed this morning, not because it was raining, we've got passed that, but because our folding bucket sprung a leak. We bought it from Aldi for £4.99 before we left and now it's let us down. Our previous folding bucket from Go Outdoors at a cost of £8.00 lasted five years. Well there you go. Buy cheap, buy twice. Sitting out the weather we made use of the time to book a ferry from Mull back to the mainland. The CalMac website isn't the best and it took ages. Finally after much persistence we secured a place on tomorrow lunchtimes sailing to Oban. 

Late in the afternoon the sky still darkened by threatening clouds and the water in the loch the colour of oil, we walked out to the nearby stone circle, passing through a field of 'not so friendly sheep', their large horns, like Sue Pollard's glasses made us feel a little uneasy, particularly when they fixed us in their gaze.

More friendly were nine fallow dear who'd found their way into the field in front of Lochbuie house. This would be our last walk out here,  in fact our last walk out on Mull this visit. Angela felt a little sad, but knew we would return to this beautiful, tranquil, peaceful island again, and that Lochbuie and Tobermory would be waiting to welcome us.