So there I was on a warm sunny afternoon in Lochaline, after an eight hour, 5 bus, one ferry journey. Why ? Ah well…
Some time ago I was contacted by an organisation about doing some training in the Morvern area. I had dealt with these people before, without having been greatly impressed, but went along with it to see how it would pan out. Sure enough, a couple of weeks before the planned date, it all fell apart, and I was left with a paid-for reservation for four nights in a rather attractive sounding B&B and a renewed determination never to do business with dickheads again. I had recently spent three weeks looking after the fish while Mrs. OM roamed the world, so I was due a wee break. And here I was.
Ssshh. Can you hear it ? Yes, it’s the Sound of Mull from my bedroom window.
I started Tuesday with smoked haddock and poached egg, what I think of as the “full Scottish” breakfast, and then embarked for Mull on the ferry.I had allowed time for a wander round the Fishnish peninsula from the ferry terminal, a walk I had found on the Walkhighlands website. Although mainly on forestry rides with occasional views across the sound to Morvern, this proved a joy and a treasure as the weather was perfect for walking – warm but with a mere zephyr (or was it a zodiac ?) to keep the midgies away. The smells were enticing and the wee burdies were gaun their dingers.
I was back at the terminal (ok – shed) in time for a bacon butty and coffee before the bus for Tobermory arrived. I was a tad surprised when this turned out to be The Tobermory Topper, an open top charabanc such as one sees conveying tourists around our ancient cities. I was about to seek a seat on the covered lower deck when I was overcome by one of these “You only live once” moments and diverted up the stairs to join the poor huddled masses on the upper storey.
Now, as bad decisions go, this ranks up there with Hitler’s to invade Russia and Decca’s to not sign the Beatles.The bus set off at 50mph on the 40minute journey along the coast road and up over some high moorland. Glasses and hat were quickly removed and stashed and there followed a Casting of the Colours re-enactment as I managed to unpack then put on my Montane wind shirt ( £6 pre-loved on E bay). Softies started retreating below deck, and by the time we reached the suburbs of Tobermory, only myself and some Japanese tourists, who were obviously in training for one of their game shows, had manned it out.
Tobermory was refreshingly static. Among the usual tourist tat there were some interesting shops and a museum. I pondered the choice between handmade soap and handmade chocolate for Mrs. OM – a no-win situation so I bought both. I also found an interesting shop called Books and Tackle, but, as I am well provided with both, I did not make a purchase.
The return journey to the ferry was by conventional type bus, and I fear my next encounter with an open top version will be as one edges its way down Easter Road through a sea of green and white.
All in all, one of the good days
Don’t go away – we’ll be right back with Wednesday’s adventure after this word from our sponsor.