18-Jul-2014 Iona

We left Craignure in plenty of time for the ferry to Iona as it was estimated to take an hour to reach Fionnphort. We hadn’t reckoned on stopping on route for cars coming in the opposite direction as often as we did. Also we were caught up by a lot of vehicles obviously used to the road and the rule in Mull is that you go into a passing place to let faster others go by. The road winds and seemed interminable. We were quite stressed by the time we reached Fionnphort and after parking the car in the free car park we managed to get on the ferry just before the doors were closed for a 10.30 sailing. It had taken at least half an hour longer than expected.

 It was a half mile ferry trip and the sun shone on Iona. We have heard a lot of people say there is a special atmosphere on Iona which could be due to it being an established holy site from the time of St Columba. The original wattle and daub 6^th century monastery has long gone but St Oran’s chapel built by Queen Margaret in 1080 still survives. A strong religious community is still present at the restored 13^th century Abbey, consisting of men and women from all walks of life who come together to pray for justice and peace. It was founded in 1938 by George Macleod a minister and visionary.

We went inside the little chapel and I left a request for a prayer for a sick relative pinned to the cross along with several others. Many ancient kings are said to be buried here but there are some graves dating around the 1940s we noticed. Standing up against the wall, an exhibition of stone sarcophagus lids are decorated with Celtic carvings.

 We had tea and coffee in the little Heritage centre cafe on our way out to the northern point deciding to come back for lunch on our way to the other end of Iona. We passed a school with bike parking for 10 and, if that is the number of students, they had a small garden allotment each to tend.

From fields near -by we heard a very loud noise between quacking and croaking but we couldn’t see anything among the wild flowers and grasses. It varied in volume as if it was moving around. On the way back we asked a local in his garden what it was and he said they were male corncrakes- only 3 or 4 maybe. Unusually for females corncrakes are quiet, he said. We later read on an information board at the southern end, that there are about 30 corncrakes on Iona, introduced to help with their conservation. The fields have areas left for natural wild flowers and grasses to grow. We didn’t see one unfortunately as they are quite elusive. They are from the rail family like coots and moorhens and nest twice a year, July being one of the times.

The beach further down was beautiful and I really wanted to put my feet in the clear water but I knew it would be uncomfortable later if I got sand between my toes- we had to walk at least 7 miles. The sand is white and Bob picked up some small smooth marble pieces.  Looking back we could see the hill of Dun, the highest point on Iona at 100 metres. We walked down to a lesser hill near the end and had good views of Mull and other of the Hebrides.

 It was almost a retracing of our steps back and quite meagre fare from the cafe surprisingly. The soup was nice but only a cup full and rolls we had were tiny. Lucky we had eaten a hearty breakfast!

The longer part of the walk took us west through a golf course with no golfers and then south through dunes and up a rocky channel that looked like rivers sometime run down but it only had damp patches today. The sun was full on our left side for several miles and we’d forgotten the sun block. With nothing to protect except a coat and it was too hot for that I burnt where I don’t usually uncover, which consequentially gave me some uncomfortable nights.

  We arrived at a small reservoir. From there the path was dubious and so again we had to retrace our steps. There was quite a lot of commotion coming from a defunct inspection chamber connected with the reservoir. A cow had fallen through the plastic roof and was frantically trying to jump back out. The hole didn’t look big enough for it to have gone through and just the head was poking out. The farmer and his children were waiting for help to arrive. First a tractor and then we were passed on the way down by someone who would look at home tossing the caber and was used to extracting cows from similar situations. We heard the mooing for some time and the cars people arrived in had to be parked on the turf with the sea crashing under the cliff. The golf course was be-speckled with cow pats and there were no marked paths or roads. Later we saw a car being driven across the green and the driver looked rather small. The driver got out, a boy of 11 or 12 and changed places with his mum before the road. I suppose a golfing green with the beach to one side and not too many people about seems a good place to practise driving skills, though not good for the car’s suspension.

 At the pub we saw there was to be a ceilidh with pipers and that a boat would take people over at 7.30 and would bring them back at midnight. We hoped we might manage to stay awake for it.

We had walked nearly 8 miles surprisingly and so we were glad to take the ferry back to Fionnphort at 3.30. The wind had got up through the day but despite the rippling waves gannets were diving for fish.