This morning I had planned to catch the ferry from Tobermory to Drimnin. Unlike most ferries in the West of Scotland, which are operated by Calmac, this one is run by a community based organisation, the Sound of Mull Transport Group. According to their timetable the ferry only runs on Mondays and Fridays; I had planned my journey carefully to coincide with the Monday morning sailing. But no boat arrived. After a couple of phone calls I got through to Ardnamurchan Charters, whose boat is used as the ferry. They informed me that funding from local councils had been suspended and that the ferry was no longer working. I told them about my cycle ride around Britain and was informed that all was not lost: the boat was coming over to Tobermory later to collect some fuel and other supplies. They would detour on their way back to Laga, where they are based, to drop me off at Drimnin.
The boat arrived, but was not planning to leave until 14.00. So, half a day lost, but my planned route maintained. The alternative would have been to cycle all the way back to Fishnish and take the Calmac ferry over to Lochaline. But I hate doing the same bit of road twice, especially as I remember all the hills! The boat eventually dropped me off at Drimnin just before 15.00. Many thanks to Tom and Sue Jackson, the boat crew, who didn't charge me anything.
I now had to make a decision, whether to continue as far as Camasnagaul, where there's a ferry to Fort William, or take the Highland Council ferry across the Corran Narrows. That would entail missing out three harbours/jetties (Camasnagaul, Fort William and Corpach), but would keep me on schedule. With poor weather forecast for the next two days, I chose the latter course. I grieve missing out these harbours, but with several people around the coast expecting to see me (and give me a bed for the night) on planned dates, I feel it is more important to try to stick to the schedule than to visit every little jetty. I guess it's better to show some flexibility than to be too rigid (anal?) about visiting every possible harbour (he says in feeble self-justification).
Anyway, having crossed Loch Linnhe on the Corran Ferry, I headed straight for the campsite shown on the map. It was getting late by now, about 8.30. When I got there a sign said 'sorry, no tents'. It was strictly for caravans only. So I carried on for a few miles and found a nice field at North Ballachulish. Wild camping for only the second time!
Some of the photos I've uploaded were taken in Aros Park, a pleasant wooded area near Tobermory, where I walked whilst waiting for the boat to leave.
Monday, 6 June 2011
Sunday, 5 June 2011
A doddle of a day
Last night I tried to get an internet connection, but it kept dropping. Spent ages uploading photos, but only nine got through, leaving a further eight to send today. I left Craignure at 07.20 as heavy rain was forecast from 10.00. The plan was to get to Tobermory as soon as possible and find a B&B - essential as I had virtually no power left on either the phone or the netbook; the camera and satnav were both getting pretty low, too. This is one of the problems on a trip such as this - finding somewhere to re-charge all the technology. Occasionally a pub or hotel, such as the one at Poolewe, has plug sockets available, but this is rare. So after three nights camping (Kilchoan, Gruline and Craignure), I needed power!
I arrived at Tobermory at 10.15, via the ferry slipway at Fishnish and the recently renovated pier at Salen. The first guest house I tried, right on the waterfront, had a single room available. Fantastic! The proprietor said it's 'impossible' to find accommodation in Tobermory after midday, so I was lucky - and pleased I'd bothered to get up early (despite the midges, which were massing for attack). The expected rain didn't arrive until 15.00, but it's been a steady downpour since then. Glad I'm not camping.
I spent much of the afternoon uploading the 'missing' photos from days 6 to 11, which can now be seen on Facebook.
So that's Mull circumnavigated. Fabulous scenery, but no otters or sea eagles. Some great jetties though. I've now spent six and a half days on the islands of Skye and Mull. I've encountered all sorts of weather, from storm force winds to sublime, still mornings. Back to the mainland tomorrow and heading north (the 'wrong way') for a while, negotiating sea lochs as far as Fort William, before turning south to Oban.
I arrived at Tobermory at 10.15, via the ferry slipway at Fishnish and the recently renovated pier at Salen. The first guest house I tried, right on the waterfront, had a single room available. Fantastic! The proprietor said it's 'impossible' to find accommodation in Tobermory after midday, so I was lucky - and pleased I'd bothered to get up early (despite the midges, which were massing for attack). The expected rain didn't arrive until 15.00, but it's been a steady downpour since then. Glad I'm not camping.
I spent much of the afternoon uploading the 'missing' photos from days 6 to 11, which can now be seen on Facebook.
So that's Mull circumnavigated. Fabulous scenery, but no otters or sea eagles. Some great jetties though. I've now spent six and a half days on the islands of Skye and Mull. I've encountered all sorts of weather, from storm force winds to sublime, still mornings. Back to the mainland tomorrow and heading north (the 'wrong way') for a while, negotiating sea lochs as far as Fort William, before turning south to Oban.
Saturday, 4 June 2011
What I'll do for another harbour or jetty
Up at 6 and on the road by 07.15, full of porridge and cheese. A gorgeous morning, with no traffic and wonderful scenery. Today was an opportunity to visit a couple of old piers that I hadn't been to before. The first was Carsaig, on Mull's south coast.
To get there I had to cycle to the top of a pass, where I left the bike against a rock and started walking down the steep hill towards the coast. It took half an hour, passing yet another remote telephone box before reaching the deserted and derelict quay. Worth all the effort, especially as I met two couples at the quay, one of whom offered me a lift back up the hill to my bike. All four were ex-naval people, and I managed to ascertain that one had been at Dartmouth at the same time as me (September 1964).
The second, even more remote pier was at Croggan. This necessitated a 16-mile loop from the main road. So having negotiated the Glen More Pass, I then had to endure a further steep ascent to reach Loch Spelve. To my surprise, on arriving at Croggan, I found I had a phone signal, so I was able to upload the previous day's photos and blog. Because I did this in broad daylight, even sunshine, I couldn't really see what I was doing, so most of the photos are unlabelled. I hope to get into Facebook and edit them this evening, from my tent.
I met a pleasant couple of people on the road back from Croggan. I was advised that the road to Grasspoint was very poor, even worse than the road to Croggan, which was potholed and very rough in places. So I decided to miss out the disused Grasspoint quay and to head on to Craignure, where I knew there was a 'proper' camp site.
That leaves a relatively short day tomorrow, back to Tobermory. I need to find a B&B there, as I'm running out of juice on my various electronics.
I've been asked a number of times how I manage to cook. I've got a Trangia stove set, which comprises two saucepans and a frying pan. It runs on methylated spirits and works well in any weather condition. The only problem so far has been managing to light the stove; the matches have been a bit damp and difficult to ignite. I've used the stove for porridge most mornings, followed by a cup of coffee. I've only used it on a few occasions in the evenings, when pasta and bacon has been the usual fare.
I'm writing this in the Craignure Inn, having consumed an excellent haddock and chips. There's no signal here in the pub, so it's back to the tent to upload this, as well as today's photos.
The second, even more remote pier was at Croggan. This necessitated a 16-mile loop from the main road. So having negotiated the Glen More Pass, I then had to endure a further steep ascent to reach Loch Spelve. To my surprise, on arriving at Croggan, I found I had a phone signal, so I was able to upload the previous day's photos and blog. Because I did this in broad daylight, even sunshine, I couldn't really see what I was doing, so most of the photos are unlabelled. I hope to get into Facebook and edit them this evening, from my tent.
I met a pleasant couple of people on the road back from Croggan. I was advised that the road to Grasspoint was very poor, even worse than the road to Croggan, which was potholed and very rough in places. So I decided to miss out the disused Grasspoint quay and to head on to Craignure, where I knew there was a 'proper' camp site.
That leaves a relatively short day tomorrow, back to Tobermory. I need to find a B&B there, as I'm running out of juice on my various electronics.
I've been asked a number of times how I manage to cook. I've got a Trangia stove set, which comprises two saucepans and a frying pan. It runs on methylated spirits and works well in any weather condition. The only problem so far has been managing to light the stove; the matches have been a bit damp and difficult to ignite. I've used the stove for porridge most mornings, followed by a cup of coffee. I've only used it on a few occasions in the evenings, when pasta and bacon has been the usual fare.
I'm writing this in the Craignure Inn, having consumed an excellent haddock and chips. There's no signal here in the pub, so it's back to the tent to upload this, as well as today's photos.
Mulling it over
This is Friday's Blog; no signal last night at Gruline.
A fantastic blue sky morning, camping in the grounds of Kilchoan House Hotel, just up from the pier where the ferry leaves for Tobermory (or Ballymory for those with children). On a day like this, it's paradise here. Still waters, spectacular views - what more could you want.
Over to Mull and an hour spent wandering around Tobermory, then over the hills to Croig and Calgary. The latter place consists of just a few scattered dwellings, but it was from here in the early 1800s, following one of the notorious Highland Clearances, that emigrants sailed to Canada, setting up their own Calgary which is now one of Canada's larger cities. The remains of the jetty that they probably used is a mile along a rough track, but the walk there was well worth it; a very atmospheric place, as I hope the photos will show.
Arriving at Ulva Ferry just as the last sailing had left, I wasn't able to get across. But perhaps that was just as well, as there are no roads on Ulva, just very rough tracks, not really suitable for my bike. So I continued six miles to a campsite at Killiechronan, near Gruline. Another warm day with no rain. Perhaps I've left the worst of the weather behind me.
A fantastic blue sky morning, camping in the grounds of Kilchoan House Hotel, just up from the pier where the ferry leaves for Tobermory (or Ballymory for those with children). On a day like this, it's paradise here. Still waters, spectacular views - what more could you want.
Over to Mull and an hour spent wandering around Tobermory, then over the hills to Croig and Calgary. The latter place consists of just a few scattered dwellings, but it was from here in the early 1800s, following one of the notorious Highland Clearances, that emigrants sailed to Canada, setting up their own Calgary which is now one of Canada's larger cities. The remains of the jetty that they probably used is a mile along a rough track, but the walk there was well worth it; a very atmospheric place, as I hope the photos will show.
Arriving at Ulva Ferry just as the last sailing had left, I wasn't able to get across. But perhaps that was just as well, as there are no roads on Ulva, just very rough tracks, not really suitable for my bike. So I continued six miles to a campsite at Killiechronan, near Gruline. Another warm day with no rain. Perhaps I've left the worst of the weather behind me.
Thursday, 2 June 2011
A day of contrasts
A misty, drizzly morning out of Mallaig, to Arisaig, a favourite place of mine. Unfortunately, it was rather spoilt today by the attitude of the owner of the Rhu Cafe. I waited outside until 10.00, the opening time, and could see and hear him talking to someone inside. A few minutes after 10 I went to the window and pointed inside. "You'll have to wait, OK?", he called. Perhaps I should have walked away then, but the sign outside offered Wi-Fi and I needed to send the previous day's Blog and load some photos to Facebook. He deigned to open up eventually, glaring at me as he put out an 'Open' sign. I said," it's as if you don't want my custom", to which he replied with something about having to face a busy day. No apology. Then, when I asked the waitress for a Wi-Fi key, I was told it cost a pound for half an hour. I've used Wi-Fi in a number of places on this trip and this was the first time I'd been charged for it. I've decided to re-name the Cafe 'Rhu-de'.
Later in the day the sun came put and it became quite warm. For the first time since St Andrews I took off my leggings! The last stretch, from Salen to Kilchoan along the Ardnamuchan Peninsula, was wonderful, with fabulous scenery. I'd been looking forward to this day, because the section between Lochailort and Kilchoan was all new to me. It didn't disappoint. In places, with lush vegetation, steep, wooded hillsides, it looked similar to parts to New Zealand. There are rhododendrons everywhere.
A long (70 miles) and hilly day, but one to really enjoy, especially as the wind has died down to little more than a whisper.
A long (70 miles) and hilly day, but one to really enjoy, especially as the wind has died down to little more than a whisper.
After the storm
This is Wednesday evening's Blog; no signal yesterday.
There were at least a dozen tents at the campsite last night; by this morning only three were left standing (mine included). It was mainly the larger tents that suffered most, with broken poles. This morning two guys were in the loo, attempting to dry out their soaking wet sleeping bags. It amazes me how stupid some people were, pitching their tents in hollows, rather than on higher ground. They soon got flooded out, including two young German backpackers with whom I'd exchanged a few friendly words, and who had pitched their tent only a few metres from mine, but down the hill. I heard them packing up, amidst howling wind and pouring rain, around midnight. Goodness knows where they went, because they had no car.
If Dave Fergusson hadn't insisted on driving me around North Skye yesterday, I would have been 'wild camping' at deserted and exposed Neist Point last night. Now that would have been at experience. At times, last night, the gusts of wind were worse than the previous Monday, when I was at Durness.
I packed up the tent at about 11.30 during a lull in the rain and went straight across to the hotel bar for a bowl of nachos and guacamole. With that inside me I gritted my teeth and set off south.
On the road near Sconser there was a sudden squall from my right. Two things happened simultaneously: a blue wheelie bin shot into the road and was hit by a passing car, whilst I was shoved (by the wind) on to the gravel at the edge of the road and toppled over. No damage done to me, but apparently there were some dents and a broken wing mirror on the vehicle. The car driver went to see the property owner, who subsequently drove up the hill to catch me up, wanting my details for evidence of what had happened. He was annoyed because he had attached a caribiner (rope and hook) to the bin, but when it was emptied earlier in the day the binmen had failed to re-attach it. Whoops.
So, apart from the grim weather (the wind did ease considerably), I was able to reach Armadale by 18.30. A sign at the start of the road (at Broadford) had stated that sailings to Mallaig had been cancelled, so I was prepared to have to camp somewhere near Armadale. But as I neared the harbour, I saw the ferry steaming across. I just made it in time. There had been only three sailing during the day, instead of the normal eight.
So here I am in Mallaig, on the mainland again, staying at the Marine Hotel. No signal here, surprisingly, so I'll have to find somewhere to send this tomorrow. Only a few photos too, mainly because of the weather.
There were at least a dozen tents at the campsite last night; by this morning only three were left standing (mine included). It was mainly the larger tents that suffered most, with broken poles. This morning two guys were in the loo, attempting to dry out their soaking wet sleeping bags. It amazes me how stupid some people were, pitching their tents in hollows, rather than on higher ground. They soon got flooded out, including two young German backpackers with whom I'd exchanged a few friendly words, and who had pitched their tent only a few metres from mine, but down the hill. I heard them packing up, amidst howling wind and pouring rain, around midnight. Goodness knows where they went, because they had no car.
If Dave Fergusson hadn't insisted on driving me around North Skye yesterday, I would have been 'wild camping' at deserted and exposed Neist Point last night. Now that would have been at experience. At times, last night, the gusts of wind were worse than the previous Monday, when I was at Durness.
I packed up the tent at about 11.30 during a lull in the rain and went straight across to the hotel bar for a bowl of nachos and guacamole. With that inside me I gritted my teeth and set off south.
On the road near Sconser there was a sudden squall from my right. Two things happened simultaneously: a blue wheelie bin shot into the road and was hit by a passing car, whilst I was shoved (by the wind) on to the gravel at the edge of the road and toppled over. No damage done to me, but apparently there were some dents and a broken wing mirror on the vehicle. The car driver went to see the property owner, who subsequently drove up the hill to catch me up, wanting my details for evidence of what had happened. He was annoyed because he had attached a caribiner (rope and hook) to the bin, but when it was emptied earlier in the day the binmen had failed to re-attach it. Whoops.
So, apart from the grim weather (the wind did ease considerably), I was able to reach Armadale by 18.30. A sign at the start of the road (at Broadford) had stated that sailings to Mallaig had been cancelled, so I was prepared to have to camp somewhere near Armadale. But as I neared the harbour, I saw the ferry steaming across. I just made it in time. There had been only three sailing during the day, instead of the normal eight.
So here I am in Mallaig, on the mainland again, staying at the Marine Hotel. No signal here, surprisingly, so I'll have to find somewhere to send this tomorrow. Only a few photos too, mainly because of the weather.
Wednesday, 1 June 2011
Welcome to June
A scene of devastation. Last night this area was full of tents; now only a couple remain. Two have broken poles and many others were flooded out and had to retreat either to cars or the hotel.
The storm started about 8.30 last evening and lasted all night - and is still raging. Winds of at least 60 mph funnelled down the loch and it didn't stop raining. Fortunately I'd pitched my tent on slightly higher ground, so apart from a small leak I've kept dry.
It's now 09.30. I'll stay here for a while to see if it clears up.
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