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Cruising off the coast of Agryll from the ferry port of
Oban, I embarked on a sojourn to three mystical Scottish
isles. It did not take me long to discover why throngs of
tourists join the excursion |
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| that is
dubbed one of the best day tours in Britain - Mull with its
superb mountain and coastal scenery and its picture-perfect
'capital', Tobermory; Iona with its special charm and
historical significance as the birthplace of Christianity in
Britain; and Staffa whose magnificent Fingal's Cave inspired
Mendelssohn to compose the Hebridean Overture.
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Mull
The volcanic island of Mull (meaning 'Mass of Hill') is the
largest in Lorn with a coastline of about 300 miles. Lush green
mountains and valleys adorn the north while the southern rocky
landscape gives way to wide sandy beaches, providing the well-worn
scenic route to the isle of Iona. Mull has several peaks, the
highest being Ben More which, at 3169 feet, offers spectacular views
of the surrounding islands on a clear day.
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Coming into Craignure Harbour on the Oban-Mull ferry, I was
greeted by the view of the formidable Duart Castle, the
stronghold of the chiefs of the MacLean clan and one of the
oldest inhabited castles in Scotland. Just |
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| 300 years
ago, Mull was fought over by the Highland clans of the
Campbells, the MacDonalds and the MacLeans. Duart Castle
itself was lost to the Campbells in 1745 and only returned to
the MacLeans in 1911. The restored castle is open to the
public at a fee and is certainly worth a visit.
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Mull is also home to another castle, Torosay Castle, which can be
reached by a delightful narrow-gauge toy train, the Mull & West
Highland Railway, from Craignure.
Tobermory
The bus journey from Craignure to Tobermory follows a narrow
undulating road along a winding coast of glittering blue waters,
with occasional sightings of birdlife and seals lazing on the rocks.
Stunning views of dark green mountains and fertile valleys dotted by
pretty cottages roll by, much like the canvasses of landscape
paintings.
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Just as I was completely relaxed by the lull of serenity of
the beautiful island, the bus rounded a corner and gave me a
surprise sneak preview of Tobermory. Peaking through the tree
branches, the fishing port sparkled |
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like a gem, with its
much-photographed pastel-coloured houses reflecting
brilliantly in the clear harbour waters. It is indeed a
picturesque village and a pleasant place to stay. The
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| youth hostel where I
was putting up happened (happily) to be one of the brightly
painted houses - the burgundy one - along the Main Street and
lining the idyllic waterfront where many colourful sailing
ships dock.
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Tobermory boasts a full complement of tourist services,
hotels, restaurants, shops, pubs and other amenities. It also
has a distillery and a small museum. Browsing the shops alone,
with interesting craft, jewellery and knick-knacks a-plenty,
took me one afternoon. It was also hard to resist the
chocolate factory shop where I would have cleaned out the
whole tempting range of freshly-made chocolates, if not for
the fact that I was nursing a sore throat and I wasn't sure if
the packaging would survive the trip home!
One can round off the evening by catching a show at the
reputable Mull Little Theatre, Britain's smallest with only 43
seats and just 8 miles west of Tobermory at
Dervaig. |
Iona
Iona, my next destination, is only a 5-minute ferry ride from
Fionnphort on the southwestern tip of Mull. The small island, some
three miles long and one mile wide, is most notable as the place
where St. Columba, an Irish prince, landed in 563 before proceeding
to convert Scotland. It is said that he chose Iona as the centre of
his Christian mission because it was the first place he could land
from which he could not see Ireland.
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St. Columba converted the inhabitants and established a
monastery that was to have a chequered history. In the year
798, the first of the Viking raids on Iona began and continued
regularly over the next hundred years or so. Defenceless
inhabitants were murdered and the monks massacred. The famed
Book of Kells, which was believed to have been transcribed at
St. Columba's monastery, was taken to Kells in Ireland when
the monks were driven from Iona. The monks eventually returned
and the monastery prospered till its destruction in the
Reformation. The monastery ruins were finally gifted to the
Iona Cathedral Trustees in 1899 by the Eighth Duke of
Agryll. |
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Today, there is little visible evidence of the original
wooden buildings of St. Columba's monastery save for the
restored Abbey. A service was being conducted as I stepped
into the nave, evidence of the still flourishing religious
community in Iona. The simplicity of the black-orange-white
stone walls under the high wooden ceiling adds to the
spiritual significance, giving one a profound sense of
serenity and calmness. |
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After a quiet moment at the altar, I proceeded to the
cloister where the columns and arches were beautifully
decorated with carvings and designs. There is also a busy
Christian bookshop where memorabilia can be purchased. |
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In front of the Abbey, a stone Celtic Cross stood amongst
other monuments. The cross, which incorporates the Druid
symbol of a circle at the intersection, parallels Iona's
status as a place of religious practice for first the Druids
and then the Christians. |
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The Abbey is also well-known as the burial ground for many
Scottish and Scandinavian Kings. Some visitors come to see the
grave of the former Labour Party leader, John Smith, who is
also buried in this ancient cemetery. |
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A short walk from the Abbey brought me to the Augustinian
Nunnery ruins, one of the finest examples of a medieval
nunnery in Britain. Established in 1200 following the
introduction of new monastic orders into Scotland and Ireland,
it was a centre for women with a religious calling. The
community however died out when the reformers ended catholic
worship. The buildings became derelict and were, together with
the Abbey ruins, given to the Iona Cathedral Trustees in
1899.
The ruins were a lovely sight to behold, not least because
of the unusual touch of dainty flowers being planted
strategically at every nook and corner. Many a visitor,
including myself, sat on its grounds or wandered amongst the
ruins in contemplation of what might have been.
Iona is indeed a very special place. It was with a peaceful
heart that I departed from the ancient isle. |
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Staffa
My last destination was Staffa, an uninhabited island which can
be reached from Fionnphort or Iona, via a 1-hour boat ride. Despite
having seen many a brochure picture of Fingal's Cave, the vision of
the island looming up was startlingly awesome. I found myself
snapping enthusiastically together with the other excited
visitors.
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One simply marvels at the incredible handiwork of Mother
Nature - the right-angled edges, the sliced platform top, and
most of all the many basalt pillars which seemingly sprout up
from the sea to hold up and form the island. |
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Staffa is actually the eastern end of the geological
phenomenon in Northern Ireland known as the Giant's Causeway.
As the boat rounded to the right of the island for the
landing, a smaller rock isle appeared, again made up of
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| pillars.
What a majestic sight it was to see the dark blue waters
rushing through the channel in between. The rhythmic flourish
of the waves fluttering down the rows of piano-key-like
columns immediately reminded me of an orchestra playing. No
wonder Felix Mendelssohn was inspired to write an overture
after he visited the island in 1829!
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It was fun to walk on the uneven stone circle tops which
lead to the front of the island to Fingal's Cave. Inside the
cave, the beating of the waves reverberates a mysterious hymn
against the rock walls that are reminiscent of organ pipes in
a cathedral. |
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It is also possible to walk on the top of the island which
is delightfully covered by a carpet of green and yellow.
Strolling on the island felt like being in paradise on earth -
the soft turf on the tender slopes, the beautiful |
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wild flowers with
unknown butterflies darting by, and all manners of birds
swooping above our heads and down the dramatic coast. My heart
sang as I made my way to the northern side of the island where
a huge puffin colony dwells. There, we were entertained by the
wobbling antics of the yellow-beaked white-napkin-fronted
birds when they tried to fly.
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I was still in an intoxicated mood long after I departed
from the extraordinary island. The isles have certainly worked
their magic on me - images of the splendid Mull, the sacred
Iona and the amazing Staffa would remain embellished on my
mind for a long time to come. |
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