Dolphins sighted between Lismore Lighthouse and north end of Kerrera

On our way back from the Mull Mòd on the 7pm ferry we were delighted to see many young bottlenose dolphins cavorting in the bow waves. There was quite a strong tiderace in the narrow passage between Mull and Lismore, which must have attracted these predators for a feast on disoriented fish.
I'm saying "young" dolphins because they looked quite small. How many? Hard to say because we couldn't see under water, of course. But I'd guess at least six, maybe a dozen, maybe even more. At any one time, three, four, five of them would jump out of the otherwise very calm sea.
A fantastic end to a great day.

A sunny trip to Mull

Hiya
Saturday, 25 July 2009, saw myself and a friend from Nigeria via Glasgow visit the Castles of Duart and Torosay near Craignure on Mull.

A few visual impressions, not of the touristy kind.

Near Duart Castle the jetty has seen better days:At Torosay Castle, we were impressed with flower displays of all sorts:
Tucked between two posts in a cast-iron railing, this strange object, which must have been fished out of the sea at some point:
After the visits to the castles, we slowly walked back to Craignure for the 5 o'clock ferry back to Oban. We came across these strange sights:More touristy photos to follow later. Must go.

Kerrera

The jetty at Gallanach, with passengers embarking on the Kerrera ferry; the ferryman standing in wait for us.

Hiya
Fantastic day out on Kerrera -- left home just after 9am and got back just after 5pm. Walking all the time, except for maybe 40 minutes waiting for the ferry to and from the island, and about an hour sitting down for lunch at the gorgeous Tea Garden.

Most appropriately, a camellia shrub at the Kerrera Tea Garden. It's already almost past its glory.

A live hedge near Kerrera Tea Garden - part of their organic garden. A little further on, the rhubarb was already huge and in bloom!

The sun was in our faces much of the time; the skylarks were up in the sky; the waters were crystal clear; the horizon was hazy, yet we just managed to see Jura beyond Scarba and Seil.
As for wildlife, we saw a gannet coasting, rising and falling on the thermals up the western shore; we saw some of the famous wild goats of Kerrera; ...
... we saw one rabbit and lambs galore, some very shy, others not so shy...

As on Iona a couple of weeks ago, some of the lambs are so young, they have yet to grow into their skins. They're leggy!

We saw black Highland cattle, and numerous shaggy ponies and sturdy, yet elegant horses; we even saw some spectacular parrots!

Flowers and trees are far advanced, yet there were still some daffodils and narcissi; ...

Narcissi by the old school/chapel.

... wild cherries and blackthorn in swathes of white everywhere ...

By the Tea Garden, a cherry-tree in bloom vies for prominence against some golden-flowering, spiky shrub.

... and celandines like sun-coins scattered all over the patches of machair and dry bracken; ...
... elsewhere daisies, and light-purple violets; palest pink wood anemones; white wood sorrel blossoms with their purple veins; oh, and pink and pale blue forget-me-nots in a garden.
The pace is leisurely on Kerrera: we were overtaken by a few adults and kids on bicycles, and by one landrover ferrying a small boy and an elderly couple up to a farmstead.

Looking across the sea to Mull.

On the bouldery beach west of the beautifully restored ruin of Gylen Castle, seven sea kayakers had spread out their -- presumably -- damp gear. We were coming down from the castle when four of them had just finished packing up and were putting out again. Very colourful, very peaceful.
It made me want to learn use a kayak even more than I have so far! What a great way of getting around these islands and complicated shores! About an hour later, as we made our way back to the ferry from Gylen and the Tea Garden, we saw the four kayakers pushing hard up Kerrera Sound, against a stiff breeze blowing from the north.

Gylen Castle and the bay. On the horizon, the islands of Seil and Scarba.

The north face of Gylen Castle.

Gylen Castle has a natural archway. The ground tells me these days it's mostly sheep that seek shelter in there.

Gylen Castle is virtually untakeable. If memory serves from the excellent information panels, it was actually used as a residence for not even 75 years, and burnt out after a siege. The fire destroyed everything wooden inside, including the rafters that held up the roof.

Several previously abandoned crofts are being refurbished and are now occupied. It's good to see new windows put in and smoke rising from chimneys.

A traditional way of constructing a window (wind-eye) in a bothy.

The only thing that is in dire need of refurbishment is the old school/chapel only a little distance uphill from the ferry's jetty. The building is in a dismal state and the old piano seems to have had a narrow escape from part of the ceiling caving in. The toilets are unspeakable and the whole place just screams out for a bit of TLC and money. One millionth of the funds sent down the drain by our brilliant bankers would be plenty!
It makes me so angry to see the governments of the G20 throwing good money after bad. The things we could do if they had just decided to give each one of us a proportionate slice of that gigantic cake! We could all be debt-free, or with money in -- I almost wrote "the bank", but maybe a stocking under the mattress might be a safer place...

Cloudscape above Kerrera Sound from the ferry as we returned to the Mainland.

But I want to end on a positive note. The walk back to our homes took us up the old drover's track and into Oban via Pulpit Hill. Some spectacular flora there:Cheerioh, and come back soon!

Oban Harbour on a fine day in September

Hiya!

Earlier this week we had a couple of fantastic days. I don't always cycle with my camera on a lanyard around my neck but I did capture this one on September 23, 2008:The two humps of Kerrera island frame Ben Mhor on the island of Mull.

On and on and on... -- three weeks later! (part one)

Very large camomile flowers adorning the ground above Fingal's Cave on Staffa.( © MPJ, July 13, 2008)

Hiya everyone!
Time just flies. I hope all's well with everyone and look forward to hearing from you -- either by your leaving a comment on this blog or by sending me an e-mail. :)

I've been very, very busy working -- and entertaining my dear friend T. from Switzerland for five days, which was lovely and made a wonderful change. Just a week ago we took a tour from Oban -- lying lazy and sleepy in the early morning light --

… on foot, by ferry, …

A detail from the Isle of Mull, one of the two ferries that make the regular trips between Oban on the mainland and Craignure on Mull.

... by bus, boat, on foot, ferry, bus, ferry and again on foot -- that took us to Mull, Staffa and Iona. The weather was the usual Scottish mixed bag, but fine for most of the day.

On the voyage from Oban to Craignure (on Mull) a black-backed gull accompanied
us most of the way, simply hovering on an upstream probably generated by the boat.
He was quite a cheeky fellow, occasionally dipping and diving close by our heads.Actually, we enjoyed the trip, sharing cameras with fellow travellers and marvelling at the many different nationalities on board.A physicist would be able to explain to me, I'm sure, just what it is that causes these fascinating wave patterns in the ferry's wake. I was most intrigued.

Staffa was bathed in glorious sunshine (most of the time, anyway), ...

Approaching Staffa; Fingal's Cave is the gaping oval-shaped darkness to the right of the two
whitish striations of guano left, probably, by nesting black guillemots.
Here's one of them, fluttering back to the nest in the cliffs below me.

Staffa: a glimpse of Boat Cave, to the "left" (or west) of Fingal's Cave. I'd love to be able to
explore in the company of just a small party, and perhaps take a kayak into the caves.
Last Sunday conditions would have been near perfect -- very calm sea.

This must be my very favourite formation – the small island(s) of The Herdsman or Am Buachaille, to the east of Staffa, with the narrow channel through which on a rougher day the sea comes rushing in great white breakers
(see one of my very first posts for those photos -- just type "Staffa" into the search thingy at top left on this blog and you should soon find them.

According to a note in a leaflet, no sheep have grazed on Staffa for a couple of years,
which allows the tall grasses and wildflowers to bloom in great profusion (it will also, probably, allow some of the more annoying
weeds to flourish that have been kept in check so far). Anyway, never having visited Staffa in the summer, I was awe-struck with the
colours -- the yellow of buttercups, the white of very big camomile, the pink of the flowering grass, and
perhaps a kind of campion or other. By the way, on the horizon: Iona.
While everyone else rushed to Fingal's Cave, my friend and I (and a handful of others) climbed the steep
aluminium steps to the top of the small island. I took myself off to the south face, to see what I would
find there. And I gathered all my courage to crawl to the very edge of the cliffs and have a look down. Worth it, don't you think? This
must be Boat Cave, as Fingal's Cave has a base of broken-off basalt columns at either side of the entrance.
But yes, at last: this is THE cave, one of the Seven Wonders of the World, I shouldn't be surprised. The colours are stunning, even more so on a wettish day, when the water brings them out more. And a calm day really does not do justice to the musical qualities of this cave, which resounds with booms and ululations caused by the wind being pushed through the very thin cracks between the columns, and by the surf crashing into the farthest end of the cave which reaches about eighty feet into the depth of the island. Totally impressive!

… the boat ride up from Fionnphort on Mull and back to Iona village was as smooth as you can hope for and we even managed to march across the island to the Bay at the Back of the Ocean without getting rained on. It was only when we were almost at the Martyr's Bay Café on Iona that a Scotch mist started drizzling on us -- walking in the clouds does that -- so we got a little damp.
Here we've had a very cold and wet July so far, following on to a cold, wet June. People have told me it's been one of the most dreadful summers. I've not found it unpleasant as I'm no longer so well able to cope with heat. And whenever the sun does come out, which it does at least once a day, it's lovely and warm and very summery. Also, after a very warm, dry six weeks beginning in mid-April, the wet weather has replenished the water table, flushed out a lot of gunk from the gullies, streams (which they call "burns" here) and rivers.
The wilderness at the bottom of my garden (actually just the "drying green", which is a big patch of grass that I try to keep as tidy-looking as possible by going over it with a little electric lawnmower about every two weeks) is looking wilder and wilder: a bright pink-purple-flowered stand of tall Canadian fireweed lifts itself out of nettles, brambles, chokeweed and burdock.

I know, this is not the Canadian fireweed, but a beautiful clematis that graced the not very beautiful wooden fence.

I would really like to be able to go in there to chop down some of the nastier things that are all but choking my honeysuckle and a pretty pink-flowering shrub (whose blossoming time now seems to be over, but it was glorious for weeks and weeks), but there's a wire-mesh fence separating my bit and the wilderness, and a tall wooden fence separating the wilderness and the adjacent footpath, so I've not actually dared go across lest I hurt myself -- the undergrowth looked very messy and uneven...
The Council and management of this estate have long had plans to turn the wilderness into a wildflower/bird sanctuary with a few benches. That would be very pretty indeed, especially if the burn (called the Black Lynn) was also cleaned up. Right now it is rather strewn with rusting things that people have just tossed into it, and shrubs growing into it, making it very prone to flooding.
The trash and litter everywhere is appalling. I pick up bags full every week, despite a chap coming by with his pick-up thingy and a bin on wheels. Even in our "close" (the common entrance and stairway), the kids visiting the ten-year-old upstairs simply toss their sweet wrappers and sticks and things on the floor. But most of the kids here are fine, polite and I'm slowly becoming friends with some of the wee girls in this house and the house next door.

Otherwise, I've been settling in quite nicely. The noise problem persists and I don't know how that's going to be resolved. I live in hope; sometimes I get all of three hours of sleep a night, which is not enough. And as there's quite a bit of noise during the day, it's not easy to catch up. I've been going to friends' houses to get a good night's sleep! This shouldn't be necessary and I hope the worst of my neighbours will learn to be more considerate.
There is one set of neighbours who cold-shoulder me when they're not actually actively nasty. It sounds like doors are slammed deliberately to make me jump very early in the morning or very late at night -- that kind of thing. I don't think I'm being paranoid here -- the young man downstairs tends to shout some pretty colourful obscenities through the ceiling when I make my wish for peace and quiet heard like "Mrs Meier" from Mani Matter's song...
Otherwise, I've been getting quite a lot of smiles and explicit messages telling me that my presence is appreciated and that I've been making a positive difference to the place, which is really gratifying.

All in all, Oban is a very good, friendly place to live. I like the nearness of the sea and the harbour; I like the idea that I could be in Glasgow within three hours if I wanted to; I love riding my bicycle around town …
…and into the outskirts -- there are many lovely, lovely spots I have discovered.

So it goes. With much love to you, my friend!
Until soon. Peace!

PS: Next post about the second trip with my friend, T.

My first "real" visitor :)

Hello again

Time flies when you're having fun, and the last few weeks have not been all work and no play at all, although the ratio of work:leisure has been less than well balanced...

Last Friday evening, my new friend from Oban, E.C., offered to assist me in meeting my old friend from Switzerland, T.B., off the bus from Glasgow. We were expecting a full bus and people scooting across the street to snatch taxis from under each other's noses. The bus pulled in right on time, and its two passengers (!) disembarked. T. was all smiles and so was I. But I felt comfortable in the July non-summer, while T.'s teeth were soon chattering with the unwonted frigid temperatures -- after all, that morning she boarded her plane in Zürich that was groaning under a heat wave!

E. drove us to my still-rather-new home in an old house (creaky, draughty, and noisy, but it's got character!) and left us to catch up with each other.
Five nights later, we have just about managed to tell each other all the stories we had saved up for this occasion. Weather wise, it could have been better. Poor T. has had to wrap up warmer than she would have liked. Still, it could also have been worse.
We had a good Sunday, which we spent on what's called a "Three Islands Tour": some 40 minutes by ferry from Oban to Mull; then some 90 minutes by coach in the sunshine along the southern arm of Mull to Fionnphort; from there by boat to …
… Staffa (duration of the crossing: approx. 30 minutes). The sea was calm, Staffa lies aslant as always -- this was my fourth visit; I'm getting hooked, would still love to visit by sail boat.

… a quick hop and skip up the steps, snapping at some of the quirky basalt formations to the right before reaching the top of the island in the sun; a quick explore the beautiful grassy , flowery meadows … … a look down onto the Staffa end of the Giant's Causeway that begins over on the northern shores of Ireland… … and back down again to visit Fingal's Cave behind those basalt steps when almost everyone else had left; …(Photo: Th.A.-Bi.)

... back south by boat, …
… landing on Iona; about two and a half hours on Iona, where the first hour was lovely, warm and sunny, with the Argyll Hotel organic garden sporting a superb flower medallion:Glorious! I enjoyed a generous cup of tea at the Argyll, where I was gratified to find J. still working; she's a very friendly waitress who has been there for the past six, seven years. When T. was finished giving the Abbey a quick look, we marched to the Bay at the Back of the Ocean (western shore) …
…and made it back to the coffee shop with only our hair wet from a sudden bout of Scotch mist, very fine drizzle. The trip back to Mull by the big ferry (Loch Buie) and back to Craignure by coach was completely uneventful, not to say boring: everyone was quite tired by then, and the wet weather and grey sky didn't exactly brighten the spirit.

The small island of Kerrera, to the south and west of Oban; the monument is in memory of David Hutcheson, the
man who established the first ferry service in the Western Isles of Scotland, which is now CalMac (Caledonian MacBrayne Ltd.).

But the whole trip was well worth it: I saw nesting and chick-rearing seabirds galore (black guillemots they were) that dipped and swooped and screeched at me from very close quarters. I saw three gannets arrowing into the sea. The flowers and grasses stood tall and fragrant. Staffa is a glory of a very large variety of camomile. The ubiquitous Canadian fireweed hasn't quite made it there, yet, but there were a few foxgloves here and there.