War and Peace volume 5

Tom: As you may have guessed, there is NO phone signal on the Island of Mull. Prior to living in London, when the phone was going off almost every minute of every day, I cannot remember the last time I went a twenty-four hours without some form of inbound message let alone a week with practically nothing! It was great; at least for the vast majority of the time.

Following Rachael completing the previous blog whilst danging* pork and apple sausages and mash we headed off in search of somewhere to stay for the night. This time we drove South from Tobermory, although we still needed to tackle the steep hill out of the town as it is the only way out. Within a couple of miles we found the Forestry Commission signpost for Aros Park, now a managed area of land where once stood a large country house as a part of the estate. The track to the car park was about a mile long with varying levels of drop on either side! On arrival at the car park the signposting clearly stated no overnight parking however, the only vehicle parked was a large motorhome. We snuck in stealthily safe in the knowledge that we intended to be up and about before anyone would be along in the morning.

*Danging – a fabricated word meaning to do something and enjoy it with huge levels of enthusiasm

The following morning we woke to find the other van unmoved with the person/people inside clearly still fast asleep. We ventured out on one of the trails set out around the park to discover the lower and upper falls. By 09:30 we were back at the van. What a great thing to wake up to! We then made our way back into Tobermory to get some groceries to replenish our supplies. En-route we passed Mull’s equivalent of an out-of-town retail park. There were three shops however, they had not succumbed to the usual Home Bargains, B&M Bargains and Pound Stretcher. Instead there was a smokehouse/butchers/deli, a fine art gallery and a unique printing shop.

We picked up the things we needed at the Coop and were persuaded to dang a coffee and piece of rocky road at Tobermory Chocolate before heading for the Ross of Mull, the long finger that points the way to the island of Iona.

It was a beautiful day to drive across the island as the sun showed off the autumnal colours magically. At one point deer ran out across the road and we pulled in to see half a dozen standing together a short distance from the road. We continued down to Fionnphort to a really nice West coast sunset. We parked up in what at the moment is a free car park. We understand that next year this car park along with the car park in Tobermory are going to be turned into pay and display – much to the islanders’ objection! Whilst checking the signs detailing the rules and regulations a man out walking his dog came and introduced himself as Ronnie. He informed that we would be fine to sleep the night in the car park and that the pub had a musical evening on starting around 21:00. With this in mind we headed for the pub leaving him to finish walking the dog and watch Rangers play.

We decided to eat at the pub and purely on the recommendation of Ronnie we ordered pizzas which admittedly were very good. After a couple of pints people started to arrive with musical instruments so we decided it was a good idea to introduce ourselves and ask if it were okay to join in. We grabbed the guitar, ukulele and whistles from the van and enjoyed a really great evening playing almost every genre of music. At the end of the evening we were invited to join the group the following evening in Bunessan for another musical evening.

The following day we woke to torrential rain and high winds. At this point I wanted to go back to the phone signal and although I was very much enjoying the lack of it, it was Dad’s birthday! We pottered around in the van exploring the higher areas in search of signal and when I say there is no signal there really isn’t. We also tried the public pay phones however, none of these were working and were set only to emergency calls. Hmmm… We drove across to Bunessan to see whether our luck for finding signal would change and not to any surprise it didn’t. Whilst there we popped into Spar to get some breakfast cereal and whilst walking back to the van spotted a cafe offering wifi that was closed. We stood in the doorway and found they had left there wifi on however, it needed a password to use. Standard trick, try the name of the business. Thank you The Blackbird Bistro for indirectly allowing me to make a call!

We dossed for the remainder of the day before locating the lay-by suggested and offered as a place to park up for the night by one of the musicians. After all, it was located on the edge of his woodland.

From the lay-by the Argyll Arms was about four-hundred metres walk back down the road. We dressed up in waterproofs and headed for the pub.

Rachael: Outside it was absolutely pitch black and the rain was coming down in sheets. All the head torches did was to helpfully light up the many raindrops within a six inch radius of our faces leaving us oblivious to the puddles, potholes, and seafront at our feet. The whole way I had visions of arriving at a cold, empty pub, and being greeted with silence and unwelcoming stares from the bar staff.

We arrived at the bright and busy pub, doffed our waterproofs in front of a merry fire, and wrung the rain out of our soggy instruments. Several of the musicians from the previous night came around the corner, welcoming us like old friends. We stood and chatted for a good while at the bar with anyone and everyone and then joined in with a couple of songs. In the end we were induced to sing a couple of our own arrangements that we’d tinkered about with back in London. Some went better than others. Overall the whole evening was like a scene from a film.

Towards closing time a couple came over to chat. They asked where we were staying, and when we told them about the van they asked if we were ok for charge and water etc. since they have a motorhome and understand how hard it can be sometimes to find what they need. They offered us anything we needed and said to stop by in the morning, as they were only a short distance from the pub. How incredibly sweet! We went back to the van talking about how kind and welcoming everyone had been and had to pinch ourselves to make sure it was real.

The next morning, with the promise of a refill of the water tank, we had showers in the van and then popped in to see our new mates. No sooner had we pulled up on the drive than we were greeted with those sacred words “Morning! I’ll put the kettle on”. We had such a long coffee and chat that we almost forgot about filling up the water, and the fact that we were supposed to be catching the ferry from Fionnphort for a day trip to Iona.

We eventually made it back to Fionnphort fifteen minutes after one ferry had left, and an hour and three quarters before the next one at 2.15pm. To kill time we had a walk along the beach and took some pictures, and then had to hurry to get to the ferry on time which was horrible, as I get very stressed about rushing and avoid running at almost all costs. Little did I know what was to come later in the day.

Since Iona only allows vehicles with a special permit to be taken across we left Diggy on Mull and went over as foot passengers. We only had around two hours there before the last ferry back, but luckily it’s quite a small island. We walked up to the medieval nunnery and parked our bums on the very places where countless nuns parked theirs 800 years ago! Then we walked up to the famous abbey, and back via a cafe and several craft shops with amazing knitwear and jewellery. If only we were millionaires. We settled on a fridge magnet.

We still had a bit of time before the return ferry so Tom suggested we visit the old green marble mine. I had a look on the little map and said if we’re going we’d better go right now. Off we went down the little winding road and through a gate. I was concerned we were on somebody’s land, but Tom assured me it was fine so we carried on. We went across the beach, up a little hill, across some bog, and up and over the grassy sand dunes but there was still no sign of the mine. Tom ran ahead but still couldn’t see it, and with the clock ticking we decided to turn back. Then I spotted the main path, so we followed that….to a barbed wire fence with no crossing point for miles. Across the water we could see the ferry setting off from Mull. It would be here in ten minutes, turn around and not come back until Monday. 

We set off at a run back to the beach where the gate was, but first had to cross over the dunes, bog, stream, and (in my mind at least) the land of an angry farmer. I was tired after about ten metres, exhausted after 100, and starting to draft a mental will around the 1km mark. We saw the ferry dock…we saw the passengers getting off…we saw the others getting on… Tom ran ahead to ask them to wait. I can only imagine the image that presented itself to the ferry crew and passengers as I eventually rounded the corner onto the jetty, as pink as my coat, and sweating as if I’d swum there. The waves were already washing up over the ramp onto the boat, so I had no choice but to paddle across. Good old Dr Martens – through all the bog, the stream, and the sea my feet were damp with nothing more than my own reluctant, self-loathing perspiration. I slumped on the steps of the ferry as Tom pulled the tickets out of my pocket and the boat set off for the ten minute trip. As I rolled over to climb the stairs I noticed one of the other passengers filming me. Watch out for that one on YouTube.

I’d barely regained my breath when we got back to Mull. We had a short conference and decided to find a new place that night up towards Ben More, the highest point on Mull which Tom wanted to walk up the following day. We found a nice big lay-by in which another camper van was already parked. The next morning we carried on down the road labelled “Scenic route to Salen” – it didn’t disappoint on that front – to the foot of Ben More by the sea. As we parked up we noticed a number of people with long lenses all looking into the shallow water … at two sea otters! Tom set off up the mountain and I sat and read a copy of Lord of the Flies that I “borrowed” from my brother before we set off, ready to jump out and look at the otters if they came back. 

Tom:

BEN MORE (Beinn Mor)
Translation: Big mountain (Gaelic)
966 metres (3169 feet)
The only Munro on the Isle of Mull and highest peak in the Inner Hebrides excluding the Isle of Skye.

I left Rachael and the van at 13:10. The gravel track up onto the Ben More Estate was something of a downward stream. After a couple of hundred metres the track headed off left and the path up Ben More presented itself off to the right. The path was extremely boggy and followed the line of Abhainn Dhiseig, a stream coming down the hillside which was pretty full and flowing fairly quickly. The bog continued for about one third of the distance up Ben More to where the route crossed Abhainn Dhiseig to a clear path. Crossing the stream required all four limbs as the rock was pretty slippery and a slight slip would have resulted in a bump and complete soaking! On bridging the water I continued up the steep path to meet the only people I would see on the hill. They had found a better place to bridge the stream however, I guessed they didn’t find it on their way up the hill as it was only obvious from above. I continued head down into the wind up the steep zigzags onto the ridge which would lead to the summit. As I got onto the ridge the wind gusted and the rain as now a fairly vicious hail storm. I tightened the drawstrings on my hood and put on my gloves which instantly became fairly sodden. The visibility was reducing quickly as I continued up the ridge.

Rachael: Eventually, after a rain shower had seen off the wildlife paparazzi, I spotted the two otters playing on another part of the beach over the top of my book. I picked my way across the slippery rocks and hostile sheep to get a closer look, and had the privilege of an exclusive otter display all to myself. It wasn’t long though before they spotted me and scarpered. Picking my way back to the van I saw the two occupants of the only other car arrive back off the hill. They told me they’d seen Tom on his way up, and I asked how far along they reckoned he was. They said the walk overall was a good five hours, which would mean Tom would be back just after six. An hour an a half after sunset. This unsettled me slightly, but they assured me that as long as he got back across the river before nightfall he’d be fine. So I carried on reading Lord of the Flies, trying not to let the growing sense of dread in the book rub off on me. As the sun began to set got up to make the salad and guacamole while there was still some natural light to save the battery.

Tom: The ridge eventually plateaued out and at the end of the plateau was a large shelter (wall built from rocks that were forming the plateau) with summit cairn in the middle of it. The visibility was now about ten metres but I knew I was on the summit as the only surroundings were the plateau I had just come up, steep downhill and sheer cliffs. I had made good time as it was now just gone 15:00. I put on another layer and had some coffee from my flask before starting my wind-assisted descent. Instead of walking upstream I was now walking downstream down the path. As I dropped off the ridge the views of the islands coastline started coming back into view and I could just about see the van parked now on its own in front of Loch Na Keal. The sun was starting to drop as I retraced my way back across the bog, this time crossing the stream at the more elegant bridging point. I arrived back at the van at 16:40 to find Rachael chopping vegetables and preparing what was to be an excellent evening meal of chilli con carne on a bed of chips with salad.

Rachael: After our hearty dinner we set off to find a parking spot for the night that would bring us within a short drive of the ferry from Craignure back to the mainland the following morning. We had a little scout up and down the coast, found a few likely spots and dropped in at the Craignure Inn to discuss the pros and cons of each and use their facilities. We settled on another Forestry Commission car park, again with “no overnight parking” signs, but out of direct vision of the road, and with the plan to be off fairly early the following morning.

It was still only about 8pm by the time we’d parked up, so we did a couple of crosswords, Tom had a shower, and I read a bit more. After a couple of hours I noticed the ominous dimming of the lights in the van and checked the battery. It was almost dead, which can be a serious event in the life of a camper van leisure battery. We had no choice but to turn everything off and put the bed up with our head torches. Sadly no midnight Two Thousand Acres of Sky bingeing! And to add insult to injury, we’d run out of milk.

The next morning we packed up and drove down to the ferry at Craignure, and had a much-needed latte and bacon butty at the adjacent cafe. On the ferry we bumped into the couple from Ben More again, and enjoyed the views of the surrounding smaller islands before docking in Oban.

We had a quick drive up to visit the gates of some more closed campsites, and on the way back bumped into Adam, an old friend of Tom’s, who we promised to have some beers with later. We pulled up at the leisure centre, allegedly for a swim but we may as well have turned up with a rubber duck and loofah. We drifted happily into Oban smelling faintly of chlorine and shampoo rather than chilli and mould, and ate fish and chips under a bus stop in the rain. Then we picked up a few cans of Vitamin T (Tennent’s lager) and four pints of milk that Tom discovered had popped after it leaked all over his coat (thanks again, Tesco, excellent track record on the milk front). We had a nice long chat with Adam and then bedded down for the night. 

We got up bright and early this morning to pay another visit to our old buddy J.D. Wetherspoon’s in Oban for a little light breakfast and a thousand refills of coffee. Next on the agenda? Find a place to do some laundry, and a campsite for tonight, and then gradually make our way over to the east coast for the next leg or of our journey…

Troughton out

Lower Falls, Aros Park, Mull

Upper Falls, Aros Park, Mull

The view from Tobermory Chocolate.

There are deer in this picture, but you can’t see them… But it was a magical moment

There are deer in this picture somewhere.

Racing at 40 mph across Mull to try and make the sunset in Fionnphort.

Getting ever closer to Fionnphort for the sunset.

Cooking up some hash. Sprouts, potatoes, onions and chorizo.

Tom and his low whistle. The pub was busier than it seems in this picture.

The abbey on Iona, from Fionnphort, Mull

Iona from Fionnphort, Mull

Looking across to Fionnphort from the second highest point on Mull.

Looking back at Mull from Iona before it all went wrong

I promise, there are two sea otters playing in this picture

Not much to see atop Ben More!

The shelter and cairn marking the summit of Ben More. The white at the top of the picture is mist!

Having dropped off the ridge descending Ben More. The van is loch-side if you can spot it?!

Diggy at the foot of Ben More

Diggy at the foot of Ben More (hidden in the cloud to the left)

Camping spot near Craignure, Mull