Whenever the missus and I visit Scotland, it's largely a family visit. With family in Edinburgh and the Highlands (and a lovely family to boot), this isn't exactly a problem for a tourist such as myself.
But on this trip, we carved out a few days on the Isle of Mull for the two of us. Mull is one of the Western Isles, which are, as you might guess, a series of islands off the Western coast. They're all rugged and dramatic and beautiful and shit.
To get to Mull, one takes the ferry from Oban. If you're American, you've possibly only heard of Oban because a whiskey comes from there. It's a port town. And apparently, they're the seafood capital of Scotland.

We challenged this claim with some smoked salmon and oysters.

We weren't disappointed. So although it felt like an audacious claim, we couldn't disprove it during our hour in Oban.
It's a 45-minute ferry ride from Oban to Craignure on Mull, and as you approach, you get a pretty nice view of Duart Castle.

The Scots know drama. Cliff-side castle? Come on, people.
Mull was the splurging portion of our trip, so we stayed at Glengorm Castle.

Glengorm was built in the 1850s, so it's not the classic Scottish castle experience, but that means it's comfortable! It's a very nice place and comes with a beautiful estate, good for walking (Americans call it hiking). It came with lots of green space, sheep, and views.

It also came with some standing stones.

They are curious indeed.
For dinner that evening, we went into Mull's biggest town, Tobermory. If you're American, you've possibly only heard of Tobermory because a whiskey comes from there. But perhaps you've seen photos of the town, too, because it's a colorful port town in Scotland, often featured in calendars, etc.

It's cute. We took a chance on a restaurant and had a decidedly mediocre meal. We'll skip that part.
The next day was our outdoor day, so it was a little unfortunate that it was one of the few drizzly, cool days we had. But that didn't ruin the fun. We drove to the Ulva ferry terminal (a generous term - there's no terminal, and the ferry across to Ulva is just a small motor boat). A slightly larger boat picked up a group of us for an excursion to the Treshnish Isles and Staffa.
The Treshnish Isles are uninhabited (by people) and the home to a large puffin colony. So this particular excursion company offers what they call "Puffin Therapy" tours. Lie on the ground near the puffin burrows, and you'll find yourself within three feet of puffins.
You figure out pretty quickly why it's called Puffin Therapy. You can't help but feel happy when you're so close to these tiny, social birds. They actually rather like the human presence because we protect them from their natural predators, especially seagulls. So they come out in droves when the tours show up.

They swim, fly, and burrow. Is there anything puffins can't do?

Ah, puffins...
Here are lots of people looking at puffins.

Even with the group, though, you could really feel like you were getting good one-on-one time with the puffins.
Look! Flora and puffins!

Yes, there are many more photos of puffins, B&E readers, but they'll be doled out over time.
From the Treshnish Islands, we headed to Staffa, with its dramatic lava formations and Fingal's Cave, which once inspired Mendelssohn to write an overture. Natural, hexagonal shapes serve as steps to the cave. Staffa's companion is Giant's Causeway, across the sea in Ireland.
Here's Staffa from the sea...

Here's the inside of Fingal's Cave looking particularly like a hand-colored postcard from the 1950s.

And then this is from inside looking out.

Then, this is a crazy formation coming out of the sea.

And finally, a shot of some people standing above the cave on the cliff-side.

After a long day in the drizzle, we headed to that night's hotel, the Bellacroy, the oldest on Mull, where we also felt like we deserved a fine meal.

All local goodness, from left to right: crabs, langoustines, smoked salmon over arugula (out of view under the langoustines), cheddar, chicken liver pate, rare beef (with mustard sauce), venison (with a sauce we couldn't identify, and it was better without), and mutton with chutney, served with unseen oatcakes and roll and salads. They called this "The Taste of Mull Platter for Two." Yes. Outstanding.
On our final day in Mull, we walked and drove around the northern half of the island. And we had some spectacular weather.
In Calgary (the one in Canada is named for the one on Mull), we went to a gorgeous beach. Only lunatics swim in the freezing-ass water, but it's pretty amazing.

We also discovered that Calgary has some art going on. In the woods above the beach, there's an Art Walk Through the Woods. Here's one of the sculptures.

Mull features a fair number of windblown trees, and we came upon this particularly dramatic example.

Mull also has all of these dead boats around the island. I sort of think they add to the beauty of the island.

We took the scenic route back to the ferry (not that there's an unscenic route).

A full time on Mull, I must say.
The thing is, we have to go back to Mull. We didn't even see the southern half of the island, which is bigger. I could spend the rest of my life going to Scotland - or perhaps even living there - and I just don't think I'll get to see all of it that I want to see.
Labels: holiday, Scotland