Profile
Blog
Photos
Videos
Our third day on Mull dawned brightly, as was becoming a habit. Nigel was going home the next day, so we let him choose our destination. He chose Croggan, on the far south eastern end of the island, with the chance to see otters, a castle and a stone circle, so we were all for it.
Off we went, all 6 of us packed into the whizz-bang-alarm-car. Paul was driving and he was insistent on playing the "Sorry, can't stop!" game. This partly involves ignoring pleas from passengers requesting photographs of amazing views, but mostly ensuring the car continues to move forwards (no matter how slowly) whilst other traffic passes you, often in the most tight-fitting and seemingly inconvenient ways. Points are lost if you come to a stop, even momentarily. Paul finds this game highly amusing, the rest of us are not so sure it is actually fun..
We progressed across the island with varying degrees of disregard for kindness to other drivers and passengers alike. Paul was increasingly gleeful at the success of the game today, as the day before, driving to Carsaig with Nick, he had been compelled to stop twice and therefore had lost all enthusiasm for it. Nicky in particular was voicing her opinion that she had no enthusiasm for the game today, or any day for that matter!
Loch Spelve was windswept but as beautiful as the other lochs on the island. We Aussies have been noticing both the red phone boxes and the red mailboxes across the countryside. This neck of the woods was no exception. Turning the sharp bend at the end of the Loch, it became apparent that the Royal Mail are also aware that these red mailboxes may look interesting to tourists - so interesting, in fact, that they might be compelled to steal them! This particular mailbox was encased in a large concrete and stone construction. In fact, we are not sure that any mail pushed through the slot could even be removed. Maybe it is a time capsule and not a mail box at all?
Continuing further along the loch edge, we passed many little croft farm buildings and small fields, backed by steep wooded slopes. Sheep and highland cattle grazed freely, unrestrained by fences, on both sides of the road. A small stream ran down to the loch, and the bridge which spanned it was quite narrow. Prominently displayed on the edge of the stone arch was a sign which read "SLOW! animals crossing". Immediately adjacent to the bridge was yet another farmhouse and yard, containing free ranging hens and a sheep or two. This is where Pauls "Sorry, can't stop!" game came to a grinding halt, but not due to another vehicle disregarding his rules. No - Paul was forced most reluctantly to brake and bring the car to a full and complete stop simply due to 3 chickens and a sheep blocking the bridge! The chickens just kind of turned their backs on us and studied the ground in front of them, and the sheep actually stared at us all as if to say "What? Got a problem?"
It was then we realised the punctuation must have gotten confused, as the sign must actually read "SLOW ANIMALS, crossing".
The next phenomenon was "the phone box at the end of the world", sitting alone and bereft in the middle of nowhere. We tried to decide who to call on the phone, to say we had used the remotest phone box known, but inspiration and correct change defeated us.
We reached the end of the allowed track, and then had a most pleasant walk around the corner to the black beach, which it really is, although it appears dull grey at first glance. Scratch the surface and it is deep, dark black in colour. The beach is called Port nan Cruilach, the English translation of the Gaelic being Bay of the Fairy or Ghost. This is a most apt name for the beach, the wind blows the lighter white grains across the top of the darker, black volcanic sand of the beach, making it look like mist or fog is moving across it.
We had yet to spot any trace of an otter, and were beginning to think that Nigel had led us there under false pretences, when Karen noticed tracks on the sand which were definitely NOT dog. They also appeared to be in clusters of four prints, then a gap, then four prints again, as if the animal was bounding or hopping across the sand - exactly as an otter does! Excitement grew when we also noticed that there appeared to be two sets, one larger than the other - Mother and baby perhaps? We followed them for quite a distance, but then they disappeared into the water. Missed them!
Our next stop was at the nearby Loch Buie post office shop. This is an unmanned shop selling items by honesty system. Nicky and Paul both self-served themselves a coffee, the boys had chips (oops, crisps! Darn UK wording) and Karen tried out an Elderberry sparkling lemonade. Then off down the track again, this time in search of Moi castle. The square tower stands on its own at the end of another almost black beach. We were also in search of a stone circle we knew was in the vicinity, but these farm roads, unusually, were signed as Private Property, so we retraced our steps to the car and drove around the fields to the signed path.
Nigel and Matt both decided the cold wind was bothersome, and neither of them were wearing appropriate footwear for another soggy tramp across fields, so just Paul, Nicky, Karen and Nick braved the elements to explore.
The guidebook had mentioned a short stroll across a slightly damp field, following white painted stones in an arc, then entering the next field through a clearly marked gate and the stone circle would be there. It also mentioned that the few water channels we would encounter were easily negotiated by small wooden platforms. This was all very misleading. The field went from damp to decidedly wet within meters of entering (in fact even the kissing gate was under water and Paul and Karen climbed over instead of going through). The water channels were more like a meandering fanned out flood plain, and the wooden platforms either rotten or non-existent. A few largish branches had been placed over a couple of the largest streamlets, but they were very challenging to walk across as they rocked and sunk into the ooze.
Nick and Paul strode confidently on ahead of the girls, who were looking at their next footfalls so closely they did not notice the way they had successfully gone. Also, their legs are longer, and they could jump nimbly across some of the boggier places, where Nicky and Karen couldn't.
Predictably, Karen managed to get stuck in the bog again! So badly this time that even Nicky was unable to assist and she had to find a stick so Karen could dig herself out. Trying to help, Nicky was just sinking slowly into the bog too. Dissolved in laughter, neither of us had any strength to pull stuck feet from the mud, but eventually we gathered our senses and managed to extract ourselves.
The stone circle was well worth the effort, being almost complete except for one stone, and there were even outlier stones pointing the way. Aggravating though, was the fact that this field was less than 200 yards across a comparatively dry field from Moi Castle, just through the trees! We blame the snobby people in the big house next door.
Paul had mentioned getting naked and dancing with abandon within the magic circle, but it was far too cold for that kind of nonsense. As a compromise he suggested mooning, which after some discussion we agreed to do, Nicky to take the picture - but we all chickened out of barring our posteriors to the elements, and did it fully clothed.
It was an amazing place, and even more amazing was the way we all made it back to the car again without getting stuck in any more bog patches, though the girls did insist on the boys staying with us on the return, just in case more muscle was required.
Then the journey home along the Ross of Mull in the gathering dusk (a habit we were forming big-time). Karen is sure she saw an otter in the waters of Loch Scridain, its head and body above the water for just a second before it dived in. No-one else saw it, so they cannot confirm or deny the truth, can they? Here be otters J
- comments
Jo I believe our Grandfather played a very similar 'can't stop' game when he and Nanna were "on the continent". Like Nicky, Nanna was not amused...
Dan How do you have time to write so much, and who is doing it? Nick is mentioned in this one and Karen in another. Is someone speaking in the 3rd person or are you sharing? Looks great. P.s Moved into my new pad today...