Travel Day to Mull

Pretty uncreative title today, don't you think? A sign of fatigue, I'm afraid. Long day, lots of rain, bumpy roads--those are the negatives. There are two positives: congenial company and magnificent sights, even through rain, drizzle, fog, mist---how many words do they have here for water falling from the sky? But the weather has rarely affected our appreciation of the landscape even when it restricted the number of photos we took.

I especially enjoy the great wide-open glens--treeless and very green with a large white house tucked into a hillside. Here is one, not a perfect image but an impression:

It poured rain a good part of our journey and one positive was the heavy flow in waterfalls:

This is a single section of cascades that rushed all the way down a very tall hill!

Tobermory is the main town on Mull; it has traditionally maintained a colorful Main Street:

Tomorrow I will wander over to Iona for the day, Bill and Mary may join me in the morning, then take a five-hour trip to some islands to see puffins. It sounded to me like a very long time bouncing around in a boat after doing so in the car all day today, besides it's Iona I came to see. I plan to sit and think a lot. Wander, look, think. Repeat. Repeat again and again.

I had been eager to begin work when I return home, but now I just feel worn-out. So many ideas I wanted to begin and tonight, they have all vanished. There is a hill in front of the Abbey and I plan to sit there if it's dry enough and just BE. My first plan was to look through my photos and make plans for how to design what I want to create, but I think that would be futile and stressful.  I have a small notebook and I may write or not. I am certain I will take many photos, weather willing, but I hope to just experience this special place. Just be.

Out and Around

Bill, Mary and I are making progress at traveling all the main roads on Skye. In fact, on our quest today we crossed the new Skye bridge and traveled on the Scottish mainland before returning home by a way different route. The Cuillins peeked out at us, at least some of them did:

Then over the bridge to the harbor to actually see the bridge with a Cullin or two peering back at us as well.

Our clever hostess had directed us to visit Plockton, a photogenic town on the coast. It is actually in wooded hills, quite different from recent scenery and very picturesque:

Advancing on our clockwise route, lunch at Eilean Donan Castle. Weather by now wasn't great for a photo but here it is anyway. 

Eilean Donan is iconic with it's three-arched bridge, it is often seen on calendars and posters--and my brand-new teensy print of an old watercolor.

Overland now, steeply up and down single track roads to catch a small turntable ferry--after we drove on, they actually manually pushed a turntable so neither the ferry nor the two cars had to turn around. It was so small there wasn't room for a ramp on both sides! 

Back on Skye, steeply up and down more country: beautiful high glens with white houses residing below. It felt like we were on top of the world, we were so high above them. No pix because it was raining in earnest now.

Returned to Portree to rest before dinner and prepare for our drive tomorrow: off Skye to the mainland then down the coast to cross over to Mull, then drive almost to Iona. I'm excited all over again! 

Only a few more days until it's over and I'll be home wondering if it really happened...

In and out of Mist at Coruisk

These again, are the Cuillins, a mightily rugged range of Skye mountains, taken Wednesday from some distance away. 

Yesterday (Thursday) we had hoped to see them from the far side but instead saw only rain and fog. Here is an artist's romantic rendering instead:

It took us more than an hour Portree to reach the starting point at Elgol almost all on single track-road, then boating a half hour across Loch Scavaig (sea loch) to reach Coruisk, (freshwater) within the mighty Cuillins. Here is Bill looking undeterred and stalwart in all weather gear as we began:

But we motored in below the mist, stopping to have seals gaze back at us, and found the loch just as I'd left it, the land all round smoothed by glaciers millennia ago.  It is a small valley hewn of stone.  

 

These photos are the flow from the Coruisk into Scavaig; I couldn't get a good shot of the loch because of the way it's tucked in there, but you can see the nature of the place, a gem!

The misty rain ceased, and we clambered around for an hour and a half, staying dry except for pantlegs against the grasses. 

And I'm very happy to have been there!

Over the Sea to---Skye, of course!!!

Early rising to leave beloved Lewis and Harris behind, such beauty on those islands; elemental beauty and poignant memories, but now, moving on. And it's over the sea to Skye! Sailing from Tarbert, Harris, the harbor was smooth as glass, and the crossing smooth, watching the Harris hills recede.

Near the north end of Skye is Dunvegan Castle, a beautiful setting as you can imagine with acres of gardens--Water Garden, Walled Garden, Round Garden, etc. It is home to the Fairy Flag which had been given by a fairy to an early laird  in the 7th or 8th c. It has protective powers and can be used three times; there is one more remaining. Yellow silk of mid-east origin, it is fragile, extremely delicate and framed, hanging in a drawing room or somesuch. I find it very romantic and charming, but photographs are not permitted, drat! Here is castle entrance and one garden:

Surprise for Bill and Mary! A pipe band from an exclusive Scotch College in Melbourne was on the 'back porch' of the castle!

Later in the town of Portree, we saw a pipe band of local young people, including several girls, great fun!

During the interlude between the bands, we saw a fair amount of Skye. It is quite different from the other places we've visited.

The rugged Cuillins which we will also see from the other side at Loch Coruisk in a day or two, when the rain stops. Ah, the Misty Isle indeed!

About Yesterday's Kite...

I told you yesterday about the kite at the Stones of Callanish: my initial irritation and and annoyance, then the realization of the freedom, joy, and no lessening of love Chuck has now. Further knowledge emerged this morning: I am no longer bound to this place or to those stones. It's a funny thing to say that I was 'bound' to them, but I think that somehow I thought part of Chuck was somehow here and that, when I left, I would be leaving him.  The kite freed me! Chuck isn't hanging around Callanish waiting for me to come visit, he is free! And he is where I go. I do enjoy, respect and appreciate Scotland and especially Lewis and the Stones, but my heart is no longer tied to them. I bought some giclee prints of three watercolors for my living room; they will be enough.  They will be enough. Something happened to me here, and they will be enough.

Hills of Harris and a Thick Sky

South to Harris today, pretty much drove the perimeter of the island. 

As a comparison Lewis generally has a lower, more gentle profile with more peat bogs and heather. Harris seems to be almost all hills, some quite steep and high. The Atlantic side (west) of both has  golden beaches, the east side being more rugged. Walked a while on splendid Luskentyre Beach; Chuck and I had walked there with a tour and I'd forgotten about it until our host brought it up this morning. Long, deep and golden, 'splendid' barely covers it!

Returning to the car, we came upon this profusion of yellow iris!

I am terribly sad to tell you that at this point the sky thickened. Fortunately we could take photographs of tombs and stones inside St. Clements Church in Rodel. 

We lunched around the corner at Rodel Hotel, pretty much the southern tip of the Isle of Harris. I had venison pate with freshly-baked oatcakes followed by cherry crumble with cream! Sorry I forgot to photograph the food!

 After lunch, rain began falling in earnest-- limiting our photo ops--but lessened again near 'home.'

A splendid day! If we let a little drizzle stop our roaming, what's the point? There are still places to go and sights to see. So I missed some photographs but will have more than enough! Hope your day was as good as mine!

Sands and Stones

Following a violent storm in 1831, chess pieces of walrus ivory were discovered in a cache beneath the sand on the southwestern coast of Lewis. The chessmen, with their beloved startling expressions, were most likely  made in 12C Norway and stolen by Viking raiders. 78 exist, most in the British Museum, the remainder in Edinburgh, but six returned to tiny Uig where they were found for one day last summer. Though the original chessmen are of normal size, a local artist was commissioned to re-create several; here is one figure, almost twice my height:

And another:

I would like to buy a replica--normal size!--of just one, no luck yet.

The sands of Uig are vast and golden, apparently the Atlantic Ocean is skilled at making sand. The tide was out so I walked just a bit, picked up some tiny shells; that's my way.

 The blue sky came and went all day, lovely.

Bernera, another small peninsula,has more golden sands. These are glorious beaches; unfortunately the cold North Atlantic does not lend itself to swimming or even sun bathing.

On a Bernera beach at Bosta, after another terrible storm, was discovered the remains of an Iron Age village. One house has been reconstructed. Having been build much more recently than Skara Brae on Orkney, it closely resembles a local blackhouse, with its thatched roof and oblong shape. A peat fire smoldered in the firepit, what an evocative scent.

On our way back to the mainland, we cam across this fine fellow:

And finally to Callanish, to see the stones again. They are sited on a low hill with lochs nearby, though not immediately adjacent, on either side.

I prefer not to have people among the stones, but I left this fellow in (above) to give a sense of the scale of the stones.

The stones appear to be engaged in conversation. As you know, they have a powerful effect on me and some others, though not on everyone. A magical place--but then--a coach arrived and people streamed onto the field. We left, returning after dinner. 

I have shared my tears at this place and deeply lamented having to leave it again, possibly forever. The sun was still fairly high, but there were fewer people. One of them, though, was flying a kite. A kite!!! Can you imagine my irritation?!!! I wandered, taking photographs, mostly it seems, from the same vantage points. I was fastidious about avoiding the kite in any of them, but when I returned to my quiet room, I realized that it was okay to leave, that the kite was good, that Chuck is like that kite--coloreful and bright and free, soaring and soaring. 'Lo, I am with you always, even to the ends of the earth.' Even to the Isle of Lewis.