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Looking out of the window of the Shepherds House at Scoor on Saturday fingers were crossed that the weather was fine and calm for our planned trip to Fingals Cave. The Reverse-Eeyore-Principal was beginning to be apparent - sunny skies over us but showers falling across the water, with a cold wind blowing and white caps on the sea.
Warm clothes packed and ready to go, we set off, intending to be back by lunch. Nigel was happy to stay behind and look for birds through his binoculars.
At the wharf at Fionnphort Nicky greeted the Staffa boatman and began chatting enthusiastically. Sadly, his advice was that they probably would not be landing that day and we made a choice not to pay our $60 AUS and probably not set foot on the island. Slowly also the realisation dawned that this was the wrong boat! Nicky had been given clear information to look out for a little wooden boat and this one was a shiny white "plastic" one. Eventually we saw our boat across the bay, making its way slowly to Mull, and being chased by the CalMac ferry.
The ferry to Iona was the first to arrive as we were making decisions, so guiltily we boarded, asking the wrong captain to pass our apologies to the right one.
Just as the walking guides had said, all the other passengers turned right on alighting and headed straight to the Abbey. We, on the other hand, meandered to the left, with a quick stop at the shop for Nicky to buy Karen an awesome pair of thick, red Iona walking socks. Those borrowed shoes were not the best fit afterall.
Then off we tramped, past the hotel organic gardens, the ancient Celtic cross and the Nunnery, Nicky point out items of interest and telling entertaining stories of her childhood holidays on Iona.
On up the dirt road heading for the heights of Dun I (pronounced Dunn-ee) Paul and Karen were asked a very important question by a small boy, maybe 4 years old, as we walked passed him and his older sister. Very concerned, while standing hands on hips in a puddle, he queried us "Have you seen the mothers?" we luckily were able to point "the mothers" out to him further back down the road.
Across a field, the slopes of Dun I began. It feels really strange to be allowed access to everyones private land, although, of course, the strict farm rules of "if it was shut -shut it and if it wasn't - don't" apply here too. Many ewes had lambs in tow, in fact they very often had twins. One even had a totally black lamb and a totally white one. Karen's farm-girl life to the fore.
As we climbed, the usual "wetter the higher you get" thing was as expected. We could see a chill shower rolling in, so Matt and Nicky sensibly put their plastic pants on - maybe the Dunny was not needed by them?
Once at the top we had the most awesome views back across to Mull and the cliffs where the MacCullochs Fossil Tree (a mere 50 million years old) can be found. Karen has read a book called "The Well at Worlds End" about drinking from the Well of Eternal Youth on the top of Iona's' Dun I, and she had every intention to do the same - why not take every opportunity, hey?
Unfortunately, Nicky and Paul were unable to tell her the exact location of this particular well, so Karen decided to choose her own. With Pauls help, she found a great rock pool, recently filled by the rains on the ascent, but despite his encouragement, she refused to drink from this one, as it contained the dunny deposits of a highland sheep! Further investigating sourced another couple of likely pools, so to ensure she had it right, Karen drank from both of them. She was sure there was a younger-feeling spring in her step as she followed the rest of the Murton gang down the slope and off the top of Dun I. Mission achieved!
Nicky definitely, positively knew where she was leading us to next, it was just that the crofters had most inconveniently positioned awkward fences directly in the path of our intended route! So after a bit more tramping and back-tracking and scrambles over fences, we finally made it to Calva Beach.
This is where our new craze of rock collecting began. The beach was covered in the most awesome smooth pebbles of multi colours, ever so tempting to pick up and pocket.
By this time the sun had reappeared, and Nicky, predictably, took the time to take off her socks and wellies and go for a paddle in the ocean.
After a lovely long wander down the sands, and photo of the still unusual sight of sheep on a beach, we made our way against the prevailing tourist traffic to the town. The Abbey stood alone and aloof on its own, but we were all starting to feel rather hungry, due to the fact that it was now something like 3pm and our other new habit of eating lunch in the middle of the afternoon was taking shape. So we popped into the pub for a quick bite. Then we snubbed the Abbey (well, mainly the entrance fee charge) and visited the little chapel and churchyard next door for free.
Nick and Matt went their own way for an hour while the oldies went shopping at the art gallery and the silversmiths. We all met back at the ferry for the trip home to Mull.
Back at our holiday home, reunited with Nigel (who had expected us back for lunch!) and fortified by hot drinks, Paul and Matt began the process of cooking tea together, and the rest of us went off across the fields in search of the "Home Beach".
Our navigation skills, or maybe our only vague memory of the directions given, meant that it was probably a longer and more meandering path to our destination. It could also be explained by Nicky slipping (darn wellies with no tread!) and hitting her head on the ground, leading to temporary memory loss, as we are assured she has a fantastic sense of direction. Once finally discovered, Nick and Nicky were ultimately the only brave souls who were willing to risk life and limb to descend to the beautiful sands below us. Nigel and Karen were happy to remain on the top of the bluff and watch them wandering up and down, as the sun slowly sank behind the hills to the west. Then the shorter tramp home - on the correct path this time - to the boys' Kedgeree for tea.
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Jo Just can't keep that Nicky out of the water! Ah, the habit of eating lunch mid afternoon when with Paul & Nicky continues, begun in the Flinders Ranges I recall...