Mulling

A week on Mull - where the sheep own the roads and are in no hurry at all

Cows cool off in the sea

And deer wander up your driveway in town.

The sea is coloured in blues and aqua against white sands. The island of Iona floats in the peace of its ancient spirituality, one of the earliest entry points of Christianity into Scotland. We took the ferry to Iona to walk up its one hill and have lunch in a pub.

We stayed in a cottage on the hill at the top of the colourful harbour town of Tobermorey, brought a hire car over on the ferry.

The lighthouse still flashes to keep boats safe.

No ferry to Erraid. No cars either. We walked across the sand bar at low tide.

The view over toward Iona and Mull, as we ate lunch sitting in front of a row of coast guard cottages where Robert Louis Stevenson lived for part of his childhood while his father built lighthouses offshore. Erraid features in his book, Kidnapped.

Mull's inerior is of mountains, glens, lochs and foxglove.

There are a few castles and grand houses

A few standing stones and one full neolithic circle complete with Celtic drummers.

Woodlands, waterfalls and streams (although some were dry due to lack of recent rain)

Sheep on beaches

Narrow roads and frequent stops for oncoming traffic to squeeze past

And waiting for sheep

With the most awesome, jaw-dropping scenery around every bend. My photos do not quite convey how stunning this island landscape is.

Cake, essential on Sheryl's birthday.

It did rain on our first morning and then on our last full day, but that was fine. We'd seen what we wanted to see, done a few short walks (without crutches), enjoyed the scenery, the bird life and watching an illusive otter fishing for his lunch. We were satisfied and the land really needs the rain.