Blackrock, Isle of Islay

Why do all the other vehicle drivers on Islay wave to us? Is it just us, or do they wave to everyone. Who cares. We like it. So does Marge. She loves to attract attention. The town of Bowmore was on our route out this morning. We stopped to shop and dispose of ours and other rubbish left by some lazy, thoughtless people who thought it beneath them to remove it! Islay is the first island where we've noticed bins everywhere. Why doesn't anyone use them! The place is a mess. Glass broken in telephone boxes and rubbish everywhere.

Today we decided to drive to the far side of the island down to the southerly point of Portnahaven, described as a pretty little fishing village, which it was.

It just wasn't visitor friendly. As expected the roads were tight. There was no parking for visitors, also no signs to deter larger vans. One entrepreneurial person had a sign outside their house inviting you to ring the doorbell for hot drinks. Perfect If you could park! Disappointed we headed back stopping at the Nereabolls Ancient Burial Site. Not that interesting. Our day wasn't going well. So after a walk on a beach, the staff in the mini market opposite watching us behind the blinds, we headed back into Bowmore to take showers at the McTaggart Leisure Centre, where for the first time we showered together in the accessible shower. Angela nearly doing herself a mischief as she sat on the commode to put her socks on, before checking the brake was on!

To boost spirits we stopped off for coffee and cake before heading to tonight's stop. As we left town the rain arrived. Great. The weather here is becoming a right drag and we decided that we'd book a ferry for Sunday morning early to leave this island and head to another, Arran. We know it's sunny and warm at home, which makes it worse, and no doubt when we return it will probably be raining. So one more day tomorrow exploring Islay and them we're off, tonight we stay above the beach at Blackrock across the water from Bowmore.

Laggan Bay, Isle of Islay

After a beautiful day yesterday, this morning we were back to grey and damp conditions. We decided to head over to the west side of the island away from the Paps ( the mountain range on Jura).

About a mile into our journey we met a German tour coach.

How on earth are vehicles like these allowed to drive on the islands roads? Luckily for us the driver backed up and we continued to the islands main town of Bowmore.

 Bowmore distillery was the first distillery on the island. Now there are nine. The town of tiny white washed cottages and unusual round church was interesting to walk around. The sun played hide and seek, eventually showing itself. In the main square two elderly ladies complained it was too warm. Pardon? The mercury had hit 17 c. Obviously a heatwave in these parts. Pleased to be able to sit out to eat our lunch by the harbour we were both shocked and saddened when a group of seven school children sat at a nearby bench, ate various packets of junk food then discarded all their rubbish behind the seats, and on the pavement.

Angela had already picked up three cans and binned them upon our arrival. There was no excuse for this appalling behaviour. The bin was right next to them! This was a particularly bitter pill to swallow as the vans always get blamed for rubbish being left up here in Scotland. Perhaps look a little close to home. Rant over.

This evening we needed a good internet connection so we could watch the England v Denmark football match, (appalling weren't we?). Out park up is beside Laggan Bay, a vast white sand beach with dunes and rolling breakers. It reminds us of the French Atlantic coast, without the sun and blue skies. There is  us and a couple in a tent. It is blustery and fresh. Right beside us is the islands airport.

As we cooked our evening meal we watched a plane arrive and then depart. To that's as exciting as it gets in these parts. 

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