Road Trip Day 5

Morag was out taking Fig for a walk when we got up to have breakfast. The weather was really quite Scottish, but the radar suggested there might be a few breaks in the rain, we kept our fingers crossed as we really wanted to see some more of the area other than just down the road.

Once fed watered and Fig had been walked, we all hopped in Morag’s car to head off and explore. I haven’t driven for around eight years, just the way things have happened over the years with hiring cars and getting insurance to cover the hire companies excess insurance. But Morag held off longer than that, thirty four years. Living in such a remote place, she lasted three years before buying an electric car from someone in the village who was upgrading. There is public transport, a bus that runs three times a day, only one of them linking up to another bus at Lochgilphead, so having more options of transport became important. It being an electric car means she can run it from her solar panels, so she’s also not reliant on petrol.

We headed back into the village and then turned south and drove to near the end of the most westerly peninsula to Keillmore where we left the car and walked round the end. Fig was on his lead as there were sheep about, no lambs as yet in this part of the world. The weather was just about right, continuing to be atmospheric, damp, windy, misty and quite cold.

We followed the road round, passing an old barn, ripe for development but with a cross across its door. A short distance on was a white washed cottage with a barn conversion next door. Apparently on warm summers evenings the owners sit out in front of their house enjoying a glass or two whilst the sun sets.

It all conjured up my early life idyll, owning a thick walled cottage on an island, with views out to sea, spending my days sitting in a deep window seat with a log fire crackling in the back ground, watching the seasons pass. Morag has almost achieved that.

Past the house was a small stone wharf, angled against the sea. Here sheep drovers from Jura would bring their sheep to the mainland, landing against the wharf no matter what state of the tide. Mick checked it out as a possible mooring for Oleanna, a couple of large mooring rings quite a distance from the water, quite a rocky approach to it too. Back in 2021 I plotted a fictional route to bring us to Scotland, beaching on beaches, sheltering in harbours, it didn’t get us this far though, ending in Helensburgh. Maybe one day I’ll work out how to get us this far west.

Sheltered slightly from the wind back on the east side of the peninsula is Keills Chapel, surrounded by a stone wall to keep the sheep out. It is a typical stone built chapel from the 13th century. Inside it contains a collection of late medieval west highland grave slabs recovered from the churchyard and a 7th Century cross which formerly stood 50 yards to the north west. The few windows have perspex in them to keep out the gales and a new looking roof gave us good shelter.

We then walked along the causeway that joins to the next peninsula, tarmacked, but you can see where the sea has eroded it beneath. A Whopper Swan sat in a field, the locals wondering if it had lost its partner. Apparently otters swim nearby and bask on the rocks, none visible today as there was no sun to bask in!

Back to the house to warm up a touch with some very tasty soup. Morag and I left Mick to have some down time and walked across the village to visit her 90 year old Dad. I think I last saw him at a motorway service station about 35 years ago, he’s changed quite a bit since then. It was good see him and to meet his wife, Morag’s step mother who is also called Morag.

Morag and I caught up on plenty more news as we walked back and chatted about our future plans. The remainder of the afternoon was spent sat in front of the log burner knitting. Morag had a committee meeting about the village hall to attend, when she was back we sat down for some gnochi fish pie accompanied by several glasses of wine, very tasty.

The evening was finished off by watching Pina, a documentary film about Pina Bausch a German dancer and choreographer who made a significant contribution to neo-expressionist dance, her work had a influence on dance from the 1970’s onwards. She died in 2009 from lung cancer five days after she’d been diagnosed and the film is a tribute to her from the dancers she worked with. A fascinating film.

Another good day in Scotland.