Our Scotland Trip
Selections from my journal . . .
by Matthew A. C. Newsome
My wife and I were in Scotland for a late honeymoon from March
12 to 20, 2001. In that time, we visited the borders, Oban, Mull,
Iona, Ulva, Perthshire, Dunkeld, Stirling, Carlisle and Hadrian's Wall.
Both my wife and I kept a journal for the entire trip. Following
are excerpts from my journal of the time we spent on Mull and the islands,
which should be of special interest to the MacQuarrie clan. I hope
to have journal entries from the rest of the trip on line at a later date.
March 14, 5:00pm
I am amazed that each day here in Scotland continues
to get better than the last. We began the morning in Oban, which
seems like a week ago! We had to get up at 6 so that we could be
at the ferry by 7 so that we could leave at 8:00am. It takes an hour
because they have to disinfect your car for foot and mouth disease.
Once we got on, we made our way up to the top
deck of the Caledonian-MacBryde ship. We were one of the only ones
foolish enough to get out in the cold wind and off-and-on rain. But
it was well worth it for the view. There was a rainbow over the sound,
and a lighthouse. And all of the islands and mountains were spectacular.
Probably the best view from the ferry ride was of Duart Castle, seat of
the MacLeans.
Once we arrived, we were in a town called Craignure.
There was a little information center where we stopped and asked about
travel to Iona. It was about an hour and a quarter drive to Fionnphort
then a 5 minute ferry to the island.
The drive to Fionnphort was memorable.
It was completely across the southern end of Mull and one lane road the
whole way. They had very frequent pull-off places visibly marked
for you to allow cars to pass. It made me nervous at first, but by
the end of the drive I was used to it. There is such little traffic
here, you don't really need two lanes.
We drove through some of the most pastoral country
in the world. Nothing but mountains, fields, pastures, and sheep
like you have never seen. Sheep on Mull easily outnumber the men
10 to 1. It's a good thing they are so stupid of else they might
revolt!
Joannie took pictures of sheep along the way,
and some highland cattle. And of course the beautiful landscape of
the country.
We drove through a couple of small towns, Pennyghael
and Bunessan--really nothing more than a few buildings along the road.
Bunessan had an angora rabbit farm that Joannie would have loved to stop
at, but they were closed for the season.
We came to Fionnphort, parked, and easily found
the ferry. We had to wait about an hour for the next one to leave,
so we killed the time in a local shop that seemed to sell everything from
liquor to books, to gifts, to power tools! I spent more than I should
have on books, but that is usual for me! [There was also a gorgeous
rainbow over the bay, which we admired for a time.]
As we waited to board the ferry, we ran into
an American family, from Washington state (Seattle). They were Maclaines
and here to see their ancestral homeland. They were so glad to see
other Americans . . . On the ferry over, I got to hear all about various
Maclaine sites on Mull, how to get there and what to do there, as if I
were a Maclaine! We did manage to separate from them on Iona, which
was nice as I was really wanting a tranquil experience.
And did I ever get one! Iona was hands
down the absolute high point of my trip so far. It's a very small
island--everything within walking distance, so we did not need our car.
We found out at the information board that the Catholic prayer house only
offered Holy Communion at 5pm, which is after the last ferry left, so we
would have to miss it. That was my only disappointment.
We made our way towards the ruins of the Nunnery,
then St. Ronan's Chapel, St. Oran's Chapel and cemetery, and of course
the Abbey itself. How could I possibly describe the experience?!
I took a whole roll of film on that island. Every view was a picture.
I won't bother writing about every medieval chapel we were in--that's why
I have a guide book. [While we were walking in the Nunnery ruins,
a crane flew overhead and landed on one of the walls. The crane is
associated with St. Columba because of a story in his Life in which he
sends one of his monks to aid a wounded crane from Ireland that had flown
to Iona. He is always depicted with a crane. This is the only
one we saw in Scotland, and knew the saint was still with us on the island
when I saw it. It was still ong enough for me to take a picture.]
But the best part of the day was when we approached the abbey and saw St.
John's cross (the same one my pewter necklace is modeled on), and just
beyond it, St. Columba's chapel. This little room is the oldest structure
in the Abbey, and under the wooden floor boards are a couple of medieval
graves. Legend has it that St. Columba himself was first buried here,
until his remains were excavated and interred in a reliquary some time
during the Middle Ages (which has since been lost, so no one knows where
he is buried).
The door to get into the chapel was so small
I had to stoop. But the inside was laid out for worship, with a wooden
cross carved with images from Columba's life, chairs, kneeling cushions,
candle, and a Bible opened to the Psalms, which Columba loved. Joannie
and I sat in there are prayed the rosary together. That was the most
special moment. Then I had a moment of silent prayer with my patron
saint before we left. That is something I will always remember.
And oh, there was so much more to see in and
around the abbey. The chapel itself inside was very grand, and obviously
still used for modern services. In the chancery (or cloisters, I
forget the terms) was a garden, and medieval slabs all along the walls,
carved as grave markers or some other remembrance.
The old Abbey infirmary was turned into a museum
where they house all of the older medieval stone crosses and grave markers.
Here were the famous carvings of Island chiefs, pictured in McClintock's
book, and one stone marker I loved called "Eoghan's stone" inscribed to
some unknown Eogan. [Eogan is my SCA name.] This museum
also had the original St. John's Cross (the one now outside is a replica)
and a stone known as St. Columba's pillow. This is a round stone
with a very old and simple celtic cross carved into it. It was found
on Mull, several miles from Iona in 1800-something or other. I can't
recall now. Anyway, it was said to be marking the place where Columba
was buried, but it is doubtful he would have been buried away from Iona.
In the gift shop we bought some books, gifts
for our mothers, I got a scarf in the Columba tartan, and a little pewter
box. I wanted to use the box as my own "reliquary" of sorts.
[We were a little disappointed not to find any religious articles such
as rosaries made from some of the famous green and pink Iona stones, or
statues or medals of St. Columba.]
There is a rocky hill outside the Abbey called
Columba's well. You climb to the top and there is a slab with a key-hole
shaped hole in the center. This is where the saint had his cell and
said his prayers. From the center of the hole I took a small pebble
and some dirt to put in my box.
When we went down to the ferry again, we had
a while to wait. To the left was St. Ronan's bay, and to the right
was Martyr's Bay, where several monks were killed by invading Vikings in
the 9th century. We walked down to Martyr's Bay and I collected some
sand for my reliquary as well as a couple of colourful stones that Iona
is known for.
The ferry ride back to Fionnphort was nice, but
a little sad. I got the feeling that Iona is one place in Scotland
I will truly miss.
Once back in Fionnphort we decided to try to
make it up to Ulva Ferry. This road was even more rural than the
previous one we were on, if I can say that! It was the "scenic" route
to Salen, which meant that the road was even more narrow, it had fewer
pull offs, and a higher concentration of sheep.
Once again, the views were entirely breathtaking,
including the cliffs of Ben More, Loch Ba, and Loch Na-Kael. And
we only passed two or three other cars on this 20 mile stretch.
We went through one heavily forested area where
we saw a red-tailed deer on the side of the road. He just sat there,
looking at us while Joannie took the picture, like he was posing.
His tail was so red it looked painted! I'm certainly glad we got
a chance to see on. [They are supposedly becoming rare.]
Right before the turn off to the Ulva Ferry you
can go see the Lachlan Macquarie mausoleum, so we decided to do that.
It's about a quarter-mile down a gravel road, behind an estate/B&B
called the Gruline House. A very nice man there told us where to
go--you have to go through a gate in the back then right up to the mausoleum.
I took some photos with my digital cam (I had
foolishly left it behind in the car on Iona). It was small, but nice,
the resting place of Maj. Gen. Lachlan Macquarie, cousin to the last MacQuarrie
chief and father of New South Wales in Australia. Even though my
ties to the MacQuarries go way back beyond the 18th century (the MacGuires
of Ireland, descended from a 12th century MacQuarrie cheif) I wanted to
pay tribute to this hero of the clan.
After that we decided instead of going to the
Ulva Ferry we would continue to Salen and try to find a B&B.
It was only 3 miles up the road, and sure enough we found one--the Aros
View. This one is more like a regular house than others we have stayed
at. The proprietors are Eilidh and Dugie Allan, and they have at
least one small child who had a friend staying the night. They had
one room for us, with twin beds! It will be like Joannie and I are
dating again!
Eilidh called the Ulva Ferry for us and found
out that it is normally there during the day and will just take you over
when you ask, but it will definitely be going at 11am to take the mail.
This is great, because it means we won't have to get up early for once.
She also suggested driving 20 minutes to Tobermory
for dinner as they have a variety of restaurants. In town in Salen
there is only one Inn that serves dinner from 6 to 7. We plan on
going there instead of making the drive. In fact, we should be going
now, as it is quarter till and we are both starving! What a day!
Click on below images for larger views of the mausoleum.
March 15th, 7:10pm
I'm at the Dalkell Cottages in Tyndrum, at the
end of another long, exciting, and very pleasant day. Let's see if
I can recount all the events.
We spent last night at the Aros View B&B,
and had breakfast served to us this morning by the proprietor, Eilidh Allan.
It was like being a guest in someone's house. She had pictures of
her children around the breakfast room, including one of her little boy
in a wee kilt. It reminded me that I had not seen a soul in a kilt
this entire trip, though there were a few Highland Dress outfitters in
Oban. Anyway, the kids were running about the house causing a ruckus,
and we could hear her fussing at them. Children are the same the
world over, only the accent is different. [We also saw from the
pictures on the wall that the children attended a Gaelic primary school,
though we didn't hear Gaelic spoken in the home.]
Breakfast was a huge production. She asked
us if we liked porridge, to which we said yes. So when she brought
out big bowls of porridge and toast, we thought that was it. We polished
them off, and then she came in and said, "I'll bring you your breakfast
now." She came in a few moments later with two plates with ham, eggs,
baked beans, tomato, and sausage. Plus more toast! We couldn't
possibly imagine eating more, but both of us managed to eat the whole meal.
This is characteristic of breakfasts we have been getting. So far,
it has been my favourite meal of the day. We haven't had to buy lunch
once. I asked her husband Dugie later that day (we ran into him later)
what she normally fixed him for breakfast and he said, "Toast and tea.
I could never stomach a big breakfast."
Enough about the food. After we ate, we
headed out towards Ulva Ferry. It only took us a few minutes to get
there, through more beautiful Mull country. Again, sheep everywhere,
only some cattle this time. When we got there, the ferry was in,
but we had to wait for the man to come back (he had just left for somewhere).
The ferry was just a small little motor boat. The man arrived and
took us over the stone's throw distance to Ulva. He showed us on
a map where we could and could not go due to the foot and mouth disease.
We were pretty much restricted to the farm area around the ferry and main
buildings. The whole rest of the island as closed off, which is a
shame was we would have loved to walk around it. [The occupants
were not overly worried about their livestock contracting foot and mouth.
In fact, they said Ulva would likely be the last possibly place to get
it, because of the precautions taken when crossing from the mainland to
Mull, then from Mull to Ulva. But they understandably wanted to play
it safe.] Aside from wonderful natural rock formations, we could
have seen 4000 year old standing stones, seals, and the ruins of entire
villages that once existed on the island. It used to have a population
of over 800, but now has only 23 occupants! We met 3.
The part of the island we did see was beautiful
though, and quite an experience--comparable to Iona. A tour group
from a cruise ship had landed just as we got there, and we walked a ways
with the tour leader, who was originally from Mull. She knew quite
a bit of Ulva history as well as about the native plants, so we learned
a lot. We wound up buying one of the Ulva guide books because it
had so much good information, so I won't bother repeating all the Ulva
history here.
While there we saw the historic center at the
boat house, "Shiela's Cottage" which is a preserved thatched roof cottage,
some ruins which we could not quite identify on the map but which may have
been at one time the MacQuarrie chief's home, an early 19th century church
which once could seat 300 people, and much beautiful woodland and farmland.
Of course, Ulva is famous for being the seat of the MacQuarrie clan, though
they have not owned the island for quite some time. The ferryman
who took us over asked if we were MacQuarries, and everyone we talked to
knew about the MacQuarrie gathering to happen next month. But we
found out that no MacQuarries live on Ulva today. Only 23 inhabitants,
who make a living on the farm, mostly, and no cars or roads. They
all get around on ATVs!
We took a lot of pictures on Ulva. It is
a beautiful place and the weather was just perfect. If I were to
take a vacation just to relax, not to sight-see, I could spend the whole
time walking and camping on the little island. I could easily see
why the Gaelic and Viking settlers wanted to live there, if they landed
on a day like today.
From Ulva, looking at Mull, we could see the
Eas Fors, which is both Gaelic and Norse for "waterfall" respectively.
It is a 400 foot falls going into the sea. That was to be our next
stop.
From the Ulva Ferry we drove up northern Mull.
We managed to miss the falls, because we drove past the top of them and
we didn't realize what it was. We also managed to drive right past
two stone circles that were in the guidebook but that we never saw.
There was a lot in the guidebook that we could have seen but they required
short walks off the road, which were all closed sue to the disease.
On the road around to Dervaig we did pass Calgary
Beach, which is the most beautiful on Mull. I could envision moving
here and swimming in the summer. White sands and crystal clear blue
water. We wanted to stop there for a while, but even it was closed
due to foot and mouth. Just outside of Dervaig were the remains of
some stone buildings that we took to be ruins of an old village.
You see these all over Mull, reminders that his island used to be much
more populated before the clearances.
Of course, I don't need to say again what beautiful
countryside we drove through. And we have the film to prove it!
Sheep, mountains, rock formations and sea views everywhere!
In Dervaig we stopped off for a bathroom break
and to mail our postcards. We found out that the proprietor of the
little shop and post office there was none other than Dugie Allan!
We were talking about our stay on Mull and chatting with him, and mentioned
that we stayed the night in Salen. He said, "Did you stay at my house,
then? The Aros View?" (We had not seen him at all the night
before, so had no idea what he looked like). We had a good laugh
that we should run into him like that.
(Speaking of Salen, I don't think I wrote it
last night, but we did find out that Salen was founded by Lachlan
Macquarie in 1800.)
So from Dervaig we drove down towards Salen,
only about 12 miles, stopping just north to see Aros Castle. This
was our first time going to a real castle, although we had seen Duart from
the ferry. Like everything else on this trip, it was quite an experience!
Aros Castle was built in the 13th or 14th century
and was held at times by both the MacDougals and the MacDonalds as one
of the major strongholds of the Lords of the Isles. It was said to
get its strength from its extremely thick walls and was protected by a
cliff falling down to the sea on one side and a sitch on the other (though
the ditch is now gone).
You can't really see the castle today until you
are right up on it. We had to leave the main road and go up a side
road, then turn into a private drive. You go up and past the house
of the person that now owns the land and park along the road where you
can. From here you can see the ruins of the castle about 100 yards
off.
You walk through a field to get there (which
we probably should not have done because of foot and mouth, but there were
no signs). There are actually two ruined buildings there. A
small chapel (two walls left) outside the fence, and the castle itself
inside the fence. There was a step up to get over the fence, and
a sign that said the owners are not liable for any injury on these grounds
and people should approach the castle at their own risk. There was
no other sign or historic marker, which is characteristic of the whole
Isle of Mull.
We crossed and went up to the castle itself.
It was surprisingly small (at least what was left of it). I thought
a major stronghold would be bigger. All that was left were remains
of the 4 walls (partially) about 20-30 feet high. Who knows how high
they once stood. I would have liked to have seen a picture of the
castle as it used to look.
It felt surreal to be standing inside of a medieval
fortress, crumbling and overgrown. We took pictures from every angle
to document it.
After we had explored the tiny stronghold, we
headed back down to Salen . . . Once we drove through Salen again, the
road opened up to a two lane (double carriageway) and stayed that way out
to Craignure, which was surprising. Not too much to see on this road,
but like the rest of Mull, breathtaking country. We got to go fairly
fast on the two-lane, and so were back to Craignure in no time. We
got there in time for the 3:00 pm ferry and were back in Oban by 4. . .
.
The rest of the trip coming soon!
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