Mull is one of the
most delightful islands of Scotland, and its main settlement of Tobermory is
one of its most charming corners. Gaily painted houses cluster around the bay,
and every nook has some curiosity—silversmiths and potteries to chocolate and
soap makers—to intrigue the passerby. A lovely coastal walk led us through
natural Scottish rain forest—hazel, birch, oak, ash and holly—to the Rubha nan
Gall lighthouse built in 1857 to guide shipping safely into the Sound of Mull
and Tobermory Bay. Wild flowers and flowering purple heathers greeted us at
every turn, and the air was piquant with the scent of wild garlic.
Lunchtime, and Lord
of the Glens slipped away from the quayside and headed out to our afternoon
destination: the Isle of Eigg. Turning into the Sound of Mull, past
Ardnamurchan—the westernmost point of the British mainland distinguished by
another famous lighthouse—the small isles of Rum, Muck, and Eigg itself soon
came into view.
This small island of
less than 100 inhabitants has a fascinating history. In 1997, the remaining
65-strong population, in partnership with the Scottish Wildlife Trust and the
Highland Council, managed to buy the island from its private owner and
establish it in community ownership. Now they are developing initiatives to
conserve wildlife and habitats as well as encourage new residents to return or
move there to set up homes and sustainable businesses. As we disembarked, our
first sight was Donna, the bagpipe-playing harbor operative, and her dog,
Pibroch, who was waiting for a sausage from the galley. Our hikers, dodging
rain showers, explored the moorland, woodland, and shoreline of this beautiful
island—all dominated by the magnificent 1,289-foot-high ridge of pitchstone,
known as the Glass Mountain, that formed 59 million years ago by rapidly
cooling magma.
Bidding farewell to
Eigg, we sailed onward, accompanied by flocks of Manx shearwaters, to the
remote village of Inverie. Nestled deep on the banks of Loch Nevis, a sea loch
rich in mackerel, the village is far from the nearest road. As the evening sun
disappeared behind the mountains and darkness crept over the land, we found
ourselves beckoned by the twinkling lights of the Old Forge Inn.