The Road to the Isles - Part 2
On Wednesday, we went on the longest of our day trips, which necessitated an early breakfast. Then we followed the road back to Mallaig again, but this time without the diversions to admire the scenery. We were on a tighter timetable than usual, as we had a ferry to catch. It’s one of the smaller vessels operated by Caledonian MacBrayne and gives day passengers the option of either spending four hours on the Rum (the island, not the drink) or continuing on to Canna for two hours. The crossing to Rum takes an hour and twenty minutes and Canna is a further fifty five minutes away.
We decided to spend the time on Rum, as it is the larger of the two islands and boasts a castle – Kinloch Castle – which is open to the public, by guided tour only. There is one tour on days when the ferry visits the island (five times a week in the summer and three times in the winter), which begins an hour after the ferry docks. This allows sufficient time to walk the mile from the harbour to the castle. There are no tarmacked roads and no streetlights on the island, but on the way, you do pass the primary school. The four pupils were waiting outside, ready to sell souvenirs to the tourists. Their teacher explained that this is part of their curriculum, as it helps them to understand economics and trade and it gives them a chance to talk to other people. There are only forty residents on the island, plus a few campers and glampers from time to time, so I’m sure conversation must dry up from time to time. From the school, it was a pleasure to walk along the path, listening to a cuckoo calling in the woods. The only traffic allowed on the island is vehicles owned by the residents and anyone who has permission to land. On the day we visited, this meant the man who had arrived to check the fire alarm system at the Castle.
On the way, we also had time to call into the community centre for coffee and homemade cake. This building also contains a pulpit, a mini library and an assortment of games, plus a small area for ceilidhs and other functions. Next to it is the village shop and there is even a tiny post office. A couple of the houses we passed sell local crafts, fudge and marmalade, with payment being made into an honesty box. For such a small island, we were surprised at the number of facilities that were available.
Finally, it was time for us to wander round to the castle, where we joined a group of twenty or so other visitors. Our guide was Ross, who admitted to liking a “blether” and had to check his watch as he took us round, to make sure we caught the ferry home. He explained the history in a very interesting and humorous way, beginning with the fact that Kinloch Castle was built by George Bullough, who was a cotton magnate from Lancashire. He used the same firm of architects who built his factories, Leeming and Leeming, which explains why it was steel-framed. It was covered with red sandstone imported from the Isle of Arran to form a battlemented and pseudo-baronial exterior. The project took three years and cost £250,000, which would have been a considerable fortune at the time.
Unfortunately, what they had not taken into account was the island’s weather, with the rain and damp causing the leaks in the roof and then corrosion of the metal. As a result, some of the rooms have been damaged by water ingress and a major restoration project has recently been completed to make the roof watertight once more.
The first room you enter is the galleried hall, where portraits of Sir George and Lady Monica gaze down on you from the walls. Sir George travelled extensively, purchasing works of art and curiosities on his way. One of the most impressive of these is a huge bronze of a Japanese monkey-eating eagle.
From here, you pass through a succession of rooms, including the dining room, smoking and billiard rooms, Lady Monica’s drawing room, the ballroom, the library and then upstairs to the bedrooms and bathrooms. All the rooms are still opulently furnished and the building gives the feeling that the family simply walked away one day with the intention of returning, but that that never actually happened.
Ross’s timing of our guided tour was perfect, as he had allowed us enough time to stroll back to the harbour to meet the ferry. The weather closed in as we made our way back to Mallaig, but it was still warm enough to stand on deck and admire the scenery as Rum gradually disappeared into the distance and the mainland returned to view. It was raining as we returned by coach back to Fort William, but everyone agreed it had been a wonderful excursion.
Thursday was our last full day in Scotland and almost our last chance to admire the scenery. We had a late breakfast, so I took advantage of the clear still morning, to wander along the waterfront before we ate. Here are a couple of photos I took.
After breakfast, we departed for Glencoe, famous for the massacre that occurred on 13th February 1692. On that day, thirty-eight MacDonalds from the Clan MacDonald of Glencoe were killed by the Campbells in flagrant contravention of the usual rules of hospitality. The reason given at the time, was that they had been slow in pledging their allegiance to the new King, William of Orange. It was organised by John Dalrymple, the new Minister for Scotland, who became a scapegoat following the public outcry caused by the killings. Arguments persist whether the massacre was caused by King William’s desire to make an example of some of the Jacobite followers, by Dalrymple’s political scheming or inter-clan rivalry.
When we arrived at Glencoe, we thought for a few moments that an accident had happened, as the road was blocked by police cars. Luckily, we were by a lay-by, so our coach driver pulled in to allow us to take photos along the valley and to listen to the obligatory piper who stands there. A few minutes later we discovered that a car advert was being filmed at the head of the valley and as soon as they finished, we were on our way again.
Next, we crossed Rannoch Moor, which always strikes me as being an exceedingly beautiful, if at times desolate place. The few trees that grow here are stunted by the wind and the surface of the ground is strewn with peat bogs and pools of water. On a clear sunny day, the reflections are wonderful, but in wet weather, the whole area turns to infinite shades of grey.
Lochs and Glens own a handful of hotels in this part of the Highlands and we stopped at their Loch Awe Hotel for lunch. It’s a former railway hotel perched above the Glasgow to Oban line, with magnificent views across the loch and towards the ruins of Kilchurn Castle.
From there we headed towards Oban and our stop for the day. It is known as the “Gateway to the Isles” as it is the main ferry port for people visiting the Hebrides and for trade between the isles and the mainland. We have visited Oban several times, although never had the energy to climb the hill to climb the hill to McCaig’s Tower. This is a recreation of the Coliseum in Rome, which was built above the town in the 19th Century and is one of its main landmarks. Unfortunately, we had insufficient time to take one of the boat trips round the harbour, so we contented ourselves with mooching round the shops and eating yet another slice of cake!
We had a very early dinner that evening and as the weather was still clear and warm, we decided to take a final stroll along the waterfront. Hearing strange squeaking noises, accompanied by scrunching, we looked over the harbour wall and spotted a pair of sea otters eating crabs. As we watched, they darted in and out of the water, catching more crabs, which they brought back onto the rocks. They did not appear to be frightened by our presence and we followed them for about twenty minutes as they worked their way along the shore. It was an unusual and delightful way to finish our holiday.
Friday was our return day and brought another early start. By half past seven we had breakfasted, departed from the hotel and were making our way once again through Glencoe and over Rannoch Moor. The early morning sun had created thin wisps of mist that hovered above the pools, which in turn reflected the clouds. There was little traffic that early in the morning and the journey was magical.
From there we travelled cross-country towards Stirling and then followed main roads and motorways all the way home. It’s a long journey from West Sussex, but well and truly worth the time and effort!
