Imachar, Isle of Arran

This morning we were up early and down at the ferry terminal before nine. Almost immediately they began loading the ship, so we quickly discarded our rubbish bag, its contents better left on Islay, and of course there was other people's discarded rubbish to be collected from all around the bin and placed in it. Unbelievable! Our time came to board and for the third time this trip John had to reverse Marge onto the ferry. No problem. Comfortable in the lounge area surrounded by tired, hung over looking passengers, could it be the whisky, we settled down for the two hour sailing that would return us to Kennacraig on Kintyre.

Then a drive of six miles across the Mull of Kintyre to Claonaig to catch a ferry to Lochranza on the Isle of Arran.

This would be our fifteenth ferry journey of our time in Scotland. Already Marge had attracted attention from two Americans. She loves it. Men are all over her. 

Days like today always make us tired. So once on Arran we stopped off to take a look at the eighteenth century castle ruins at Lochranza before stopping at the nearby 'sandwich station, formerly the fire station, for coffee and excellent homemade fruit and nut flapjacks, and of course for Marge to catch the eye of yet another male admirer. The sun was out, and it felt warmer than we've known it for a very long while.

A drive along the coast, missing our planned overnight stop along the way found us at another, the access only really suitable for off road vehicles. Result. On the park4night app someone who had stayed at the spot previously described it as the best stopover on the island. We've yet to experience any others, but can see it's definitely right up there. So, as we're right by the shore, the beach pebbled, we will cook on an open fire this evening and hopefully with a clear sky experience a magical sunset. First we need our washing to dry in the southerly breeze that cools the warmth of the day.

Kilnaughton, Isle of Islay

First stop this morning Belmore and coffee once again at The Celtic House coffee shop. Then a drive down towards Port Ellen, the road cutting through bogs pooled with water where white water lilies liked scrunched up paper sat waiting to open their delicate petals. Our destination the American Monument on the Mull of Oa. The monument was built to commemorate the loss of 700 soldiers who lost their lives in Islay waters during the first world war. The circular walk to and from the monument takes you through an RSPB nature reserve. Stopping for a while at a bench we noticed a notebook. It contained information on birds that had been spotted since 2019. Oh dear, someone would be upset. We spoke to a couple of people walking towards us with cameras and asked if it belonged to them. No, but they would put posts on Whatsapp and Facebook groups to try and locate the owner. Hopefully they will. 

The weather was perfect for our visit. The sun warm, the wind trying to cool us. We could see for miles. The air felt fresh and we were glad to have made the long, uncomfortable drive out here. This was the Islay we'd been waiting to see. Up around the monument highland cattle grazed, as always turning their heads away at the hint of a photograph being taken, and wild coats balanced precariously on the cliffs, the Billy's giving us the look of, don't come to close. After almost two hours we returned to Marge and decided to drive back down to the small town of Port Ellen to check the access to the ferry port where we will be sailing from tomorrow, and to take a walk around. 

It was a pretty town, with a Chinese takeaway. What's not to like? By now the weather was once again on the change. We wouldn't want subject ourselves to too much sunshine would we?

But it was warm enough to sit out and eat our food at a table in the Lochiel Memorial Garden on the waters edge.

Then a drive of around ten minutes to our overnight stop just above the beach at Kilnaughton, where we can see across the bay to the ferry port, and also to Carraig Fhada, an unusual square lighthouse. We are pleased today has been a good day. We'd seen the best of the island and would not leave now feeling so disappointed. We are glad we visited Islay and Jura, but will not return. As we keep saying, 'so much world to see, so little time'.

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.