Torosay Castle & Oban
After all our mornings of bright sunshine, we finally felt the liquid version of sunshine in Scotland. A steady rain did not slow us down however, and we rode over to Torosay Castle just five minutes away by coach.
Our delightful hostess, Jacquetta James, met us at the door and for the next hour was a most entertaining raconteur. She told us of the family history, pointing out personal articles surrounding us; allowed us to sit on her sofas and chairs (so unlike other castles), touch books and memories. Her sister was Pamela Harriman, which many remembered from society news of years ago, and her father twice escaped from prison camp.
By the time everyone was ready to head outside for a tour of the gardens, the sun was shining once more and water droplets glistened on many a red, blue or purple flower. Andrew MacAoidh and I decided to ride the miniature narrow-gauge Mull railroad back into Craignure and felt very special, as the only passengers for the Torosay to Craignure leg (we saw many waiting for the return).
We left the dock at noon, the Isle of Mull at our stern and by the time lunch was over we could hear a piper on the dock at Oban, mainland Scotland and a major transportation hub with rail, water and roadways connecting people to places. Although the rain persisted for a short while, by the time everyone came out of the distillery (still walking straight to all appearances), it had stopped, and even cleared a bit for those going on a town tour. Both our local expert, Konia, and our historian, Steve, were the walking encyclopedias for this expedition. They even managed to make it up to McCaig’s Tower, an extraordinary colosseum-like structure overlooking the town of Oban. Blue sky and clear air were the reward for the climb, allowing for a view across to Mull and way, way beyond. By the time the sun set, the clouds had left, leaving us with the hope tomorrow might be yet again bright.
After all our mornings of bright sunshine, we finally felt the liquid version of sunshine in Scotland. A steady rain did not slow us down however, and we rode over to Torosay Castle just five minutes away by coach.
Our delightful hostess, Jacquetta James, met us at the door and for the next hour was a most entertaining raconteur. She told us of the family history, pointing out personal articles surrounding us; allowed us to sit on her sofas and chairs (so unlike other castles), touch books and memories. Her sister was Pamela Harriman, which many remembered from society news of years ago, and her father twice escaped from prison camp.
By the time everyone was ready to head outside for a tour of the gardens, the sun was shining once more and water droplets glistened on many a red, blue or purple flower. Andrew MacAoidh and I decided to ride the miniature narrow-gauge Mull railroad back into Craignure and felt very special, as the only passengers for the Torosay to Craignure leg (we saw many waiting for the return).
We left the dock at noon, the Isle of Mull at our stern and by the time lunch was over we could hear a piper on the dock at Oban, mainland Scotland and a major transportation hub with rail, water and roadways connecting people to places. Although the rain persisted for a short while, by the time everyone came out of the distillery (still walking straight to all appearances), it had stopped, and even cleared a bit for those going on a town tour. Both our local expert, Konia, and our historian, Steve, were the walking encyclopedias for this expedition. They even managed to make it up to McCaig’s Tower, an extraordinary colosseum-like structure overlooking the town of Oban. Blue sky and clear air were the reward for the climb, allowing for a view across to Mull and way, way beyond. By the time the sun set, the clouds had left, leaving us with the hope tomorrow might be yet again bright.
