Jura

Wild Ride 

Thursday was a squally day with whips of wind and froths of foam. Would our sea trip be cancelled? No such luck! So we boarded the Jura Passenger Ferry from Tayvallich and bounced across the waters in a cabined box with a bear of a driver/pilot/skipper to Craighouse where I was very very happy to step onto dry and steady land.

The Wicker Man meets The Angel’s Share

I felt there was something other-worldly about Jura – and wondered whether the whisky fumes had infiltrated the bloodstreams of the islanders. Sally and I enjoyed a sticky treat in the Anchors Café with its super-friendly owner (who, reminiscent of Denis Lawson’s character in the film Local Hero, seemed to have a finger in every island pie.) Chris and Harriet took a full tour of the distillery and emerged alive!

Craoibh Haven

Jura felt stranger than many of the Scottish islands we’ve visited so far, although it ranks as one of the Inner Hebrides and I’ve yet to travel to the Outer Hebrides. A display of Ye Olde Photos of Jura in the local church had some quite disturbing historical visual records but I imagine many remote islands would have similar dark episodes in their past. During our week we had one meal out at The Lord of the Isles in Craiobh Haven (pronounced Croove Haven.) The restaurant served excellent food (monkfish, steaks, fish n chips) and had welcoming and jolly staff, as well as locals dining in alongside tourists like us.

Bonnie Scotland

It’s hard to explain why our holidays in Scotland always seem to suit us as a family: the awe-inspiring landscapes, the twisty, fascinating history, the welcoming people we always seem to meet… the habit we have on these holidays of hunkering down in the evenings with good food, good wine (and beer), a tiptop jigsaw (see bottom collage), playing cards (Uno), board games (Ludo), reading books and putting the world to rights.

Releasing cares

Scotland feels like a place where I can forget the cares of everyday life. I’m sure there are economic and cultural pressures on those who live there permanently, particularly in the remoter regions. But the rewards of the seasonal lifestyle seem, to me, satisfying. The views certainly are.

The Crinan Trail and Chamber Tombs

Crinan Harbour to Castle Dounie

Crinan Harbour was peaceful and still. The Crinan Trail began on a seaweed-strewn rocky beach and wound upwards through wet, muddy forest to coastline views. We had coffee on a bench overlooking the Argyll skerries and then climbed higher and higher to Castle Dounie, the ruins of a fort on a headland peak with a staggering view north and south along the coast.

Down to the coast again

The descent was through sap-dropping, moss-blanketed, lichen-sprouting forest glades on paths that merged and emerged, twisted and meandered back to the surprising sight of the car – a metal incongruity in such a primitive, natural landscape. 

Arduaine Gardens

Arduaine Gardens is a lovely, lush semi-tropical paradise with winding paths and yet more romantic views of the Argyll coast. Rhododendrons, azaleas, magnolias, giant Himalayan lilies and forget-me-nots compete for attention in what seems like a series of hidden “garden rooms.” Very relaxing. The garden was begun in 1898 when collecting exotic flora from around the world was a favourite pastime for intrepid plant hunters who had the resources to fund journeys of discovery, sympathetic retrieval, and collection.

Kilmartin Glen's Prehistoric Treasures

An imaginative guide gave us a guided tour of Kilmartin Glen taking in prehistoric burial cairns, stone circles and standing stones. There was a Canterbury Tales-style hotchpotch of eccentric fellow travellers from around the world to keep the guide on his toes. I learned a new word: cists – meaning a stone-built “coffin box”to hold the bones or full bodies of the dead. A deluge fell from the heavens as we returned to the on-sight café – were the ancient gods displeased with us for disturbing the ancient burial chambers?