Last October on my camping trip I’d turned up at Oban ferry port and asked where would be a good place to go to for a day trip with my bike. They suggested Mull, so the next day I went. It was beautiful, but a day wasn’t long enough and I knew that one day I’d go back to see more of the island. With two weeks off work, now seemed like a good time.
I’d seen a photo in the paper of some huge horse sculptures lit up at night and had put them on my mental list of places to visit. They’re the Kelpies in Falkirk, which also happens to be home of the Falkirk wheel, the world’s only rotating boat lift. These seemed like a good enough reason to head to Falkirk. I didn’t think much of the town but was pleased with my decision to start my holiday with some touristy bits.
Next was getting to Mull, so I stocked up with a few supplies and fuel in Oban then headed over on the ferry. The ferry ticket is a 9 day return and unless the weather turned, I had plenty planned to keep myself occupied for that amount of time.
Apart from the first day, the weather was dry and mostly sunny which meant for a busy week. Plenty of walking, cycling, a couple of boat trips to Iona and Staffa and wildlife watching; seals, eagles and finally – some wild otters. The island was made for exploring with empty roads and tracks and paths all over the place, more remote feeling than Skye but a bit less daunting too – or maybe I’m just getting used to it! My only disappointment being that the resident puffins on Staffa had already migrated, a reason to return at some point. There aren’t many campsites on Mull, I saw three, so apart from a couple of nights on one of them I wasn’t tempted to use sites, the rest of the time was wild camping – having a van and wild camping isn’t about free accommodation, it’s about getting to sleep in the best places.
On the 9th day I wasn’t in the best of moods about the fact my ticket had come to an end. I went and found some phone signal to book a ferry back and ended up in Oban in the early afternoon. Back to tesco for fuel and supplies and then slowly start the journey south. Just out of Oban there was a sign which said “Beach”. I was in no rush and it was like a summer’s day, so before I knew it, Bertha had turned to follow the sign. Ganovan Bay was stunning! I laid on the beach and read, and was in need of a wash, so had a swim before getting the bbq out and having dinner watching a purple sunset. Following that unexpected sign gave me one of my favourite afternoons of the trip.
A bit of West Highland Way, a night wild camped by the highest village in Britain (should have packed de-icer) and then down to Buckinghamshire to be able to visit the Bletchley Park museum on my way home.
A great two weeks – time to plan the next trip…