Weds. Aug 5th, Camusdarrach Beach Walk

This walk was supposed to be, according to my Make Tracks map, a "stroll," an easy walk along the beaches from Glenancross to Traigh or, if I was feeling adventurous (which unfortunately I was) all the way to Arisaig. My map was right about the first part. My taxi driver friend drove me from Mallaig to Glenancross at about 9 a.m. and we agreed that I would phone her when I was ready to be picked up. I told her I planned to be in Arisaig by mid afternoon. And off I went.

The laminated instructions were very detailed and I progressed well along the beaches, enjoying the sunny day and meeting up with lots of people (and dogs) enjoying the August weather.

I watched this three-legged golden lab keep up with his black companions, enjoying the surf.

As you can see from the way these folks are dressed though, beautiful as the day turned out to be, it's still wise to have long sleeved shirts and long trousers, at least in the Highland mornings.

Although Morar's beaches don't sing, they are still that beautiful silvery color like Eigg's.

It only took a little over an hour, even with all the stops I made to enjoy the scenery--and the views of the small isles again--to reach Traigh Beach. The map gave me the alternative at this point to return to Mallaig via the golf course across the road from the beach or to extend my walk another two hours to Arisaig.

I looked at the folks playing golf, amazed that dogs tagged along on the course, and decided that I would continue on along the beaches to Arisaig. So turning my back on the golf course, I ventured down on the beaches once again.

It was shortly after meeting these folks that I began to find the hike difficult. I scrambled over the rocky outcroppings, looking for the best way around the coves. It was often difficult to find my footing and I don't have the greatest sense of balance. I knew that I was heading in the right general direction by keeping to the coast.

After watching this family of gulls for several minutes, the rocks became too difficult for me to clamber over any further and I made the decision to move farther inland.

The views were still magnificent but the trail was difficult to follow. Eventually, though, I encountered a large caravan park. Caravaning is very popular in the UK. Farmers lease their fields to caravaners; it's a way for them to pay for their farms as farming has become a difficult way to make a living across the UK. Many of the caravans I passed had TV dishes and looked like they had set up "home away from home" much like our RV folk do back in the US.

I became quite lost just past a large caravan park near a village called Back of Keppoch. My laminated map said that there would be several paths that would lead me to Arisaig. "Several" was the correct term but I didn't realize that, having left the beach paths because I was having difficulty navigating the rocks, I would plunge into deep woods. I walked for what seemed like ages, unsure whether I was heading in the right direction. I had my compass with me and so knew that I was heading south but "south" can encompass a LOT of miles and it would still be easy to miss a town completely if I went too far south and not enough east or west. I should have brought the more detailed orienteering map that Make Tracks provided but I didn't. I recommend to anyone reading this and thinking of doing something like this, DO bring the orienteering map and USE it!

Eventually I came through the woods to a deserted beach with what I thought was a large docking area. The beach was covered with kelp. And as I moved closer to the "dock" I realized it wasn't one dock but a series of rusty iron "tables." I think they might have been used for drying kelp but couldn't find anyone who knew what I was talking about when I returned to Mallaig later.

I tried to find my way along the beach but once again the trails led me into woods. After two hours of tripping over roots and rocks I risked climbing over an old broken stile that I feared would lead me into an angry farmer's field to encounter who knew what. But after a quarter mile I was very happy to see in the distance the pretty town of Arisaig. Feet aching and sweaty, I plodded into the town, down to the cafe by the harbor and rewarded my efforts with a delicious slice of victoria sponge cake and a large pot of herbal tea. I then called Mary the cab driver and she picked me up and delivered me back to Mrs. Watts.

A hot shower, a night's rest and in the very early morning, with the moon still shining, I bid farewell to Mallaig and boarded the train back down to England. It was a wonderful week's holiday!!

Tuesday, August 4th, Leaving Eigg for Mallaig

As I reflected on my trip to Eigg, what struck me was how wonderfully unspoiled and untouristy Eigg is. In speaking to the islanders, I've learned that they are struggling with how to move forward. They can't advertise Eigg to much for tourism because (1) the island can't sustain it and (2) it would spoil Eigg not only for themselves but also for those tourists who come to the islands to rediscover the simplicity of life, the adventure of it. So many tourist activities elsewhere are
"directed"--you go somewhere with someone, at someone else's timetable, you follow someone else's directions. All safe, all secure. But with Make Tracks you can follow their instructions or not follow them; it's completely up to you. Apart from the one hike on North Morar where I had to be at the harbor in time for the return ferry, I could hike as quickly or as slowly as I wanted. I could get lost, sweat and worry and then, relying on my own resources of compass and map, find my way back. I never thought of myself as an adventurer and yet when I think of how I devoured Nancy Drew mysteries and read Girls Own annuals and envied the adventure these fictional characters had I realize it was always deep inside of me. This time in the West Highlands has meant almost total freedom. No ads screaming at me to do this or that, to buy this or that. In Mallaig I chose whether to have dinner or not, whether to buy a sandwich for lunch or just snack on trail mix. On Eigg, Mairi Carr provided full board and her cooking was a delicious reward for miles and hours of walking. I occasionally saw people on my hike but we would pass each other by with a brief "hi, how are you doing" each concentrating on where we were heading.

There are no signs once you leave the pier and you have to know how the tracks work--i.e., bits of paint splodged on fence posts, rocks or sometimes on the track itself. As I've said before, it's easy for a city or town dweller to get confused between a people track or a sheep/cattle track. (That's true of the area around Maillaig as well though.) Only one tea shop down at the pier; no tea shop at the beautiful Singing Sands; just the Sands. Thank goodness.

The exception to my "solo hiking" was this morning. At breakfast Helen, of Helen and Barry the couple from Edinburgh, said she wanted to find the Cathedral and Massacre Caves. Barry wasn't up to it because of his crutches so I told her I'd come along with her and make one final attempt to find them. So off we went. Mairi had told us to take a different route than I'd taken the day before but as we toiled up the steep road it seemed we were walking away from the cliffs, not toward them, and I feared that we were lost again. We met a fellow just leaving his house and, when we asked him about the caves, he said that he and his collie would be happy to lead us to the right pathway.

He was very chatty, telling us that he reckoned that Beowulf (?) was actually set on Eigg and not in Norway. We hardly got a word in edgewise as he marched us down the hill toward the cliff. He left us at the gate leading down to Cathedral Cave with detailed instructions on how to find each. And he was spot on.

Cathedral Cave is larger and easier to find. It's so named because it was once used for Roman Catholic services when such services were banned in the 18th century.

I doubt that the cross that was inside the cave dated that far back but it made a nice touch. We had to be careful scrambling over the large rocks. This photo is deceptive as the flash illuminated the cave; it was much darker inside but not as dark as the Massacre Cave.

Even with John's detailed instructions, we had difficulty locating the mouth of Massacre Cave. It was a very narrow opening and even at 5'3" I had to stoop quite low and enter the cave almost at a crawl. I took this photo looking back at the opening. John had warned us that we would need some kind of torch to actually see anything and he was right about that as well. Helen had a very small torch that only gave off a weak, pinpoint light so I found myself groping my way along the cave wall and after only about 10' the atmosphere got to me and I told her I was going to turn back. And the history of Massacre Cave? Well in the 16th century, there were about 400 inhabitants on Eigg, mostly MacDonalds, who would periodically go over to Skye on raids. On one such raid they killed and wounded a group of MacLeods who days later set sail for Eigg seeking vengeance. The islanders, learning of the approaching MacLeods, hid in the cave, which is apparently very deep.

When the MacLeods landed, they met only one islander, an old woman who refused to tell them where the others were even though they burned her house and slew her animals. Frustrated, the MacLeods prepared to sail away. And this is where the islanders made their fatal error. Wondering if the MacLeods had left, they sent a scout out of the cave to climb up the cliff and take a look. It was winter and there was snow and the MacLeods, looking back from their boat, saw the scout clambering up the cliff from the cave. So they returned and, trapping the islanders in the cave, they built a large bonfire at this, as you can see, very narrow entrance. The smoke filled the cave and all of the islanders died. Except, I suppose, the old woman.

It is a very dark and difficult place. We both felt, standing in the dark with only the camera flash and Helen's fading torch to throw some light, a kind of sadness that still seemed to hang there. I, as a Campbell, also wondered why so much is made of the Glencoe massacre while few people, outside of those who visit Eigg, ever hear about this, far worse, massacre. I suppose it was because this was simple clan warfare as opposed to Glencoe which has come to be associated--I believe erroneously--with a violation of Highland hospitality. It was far more complicated than that.

At any rate, you can see from my relieved smile, that I was glad to head back to the cave opening.

We arrived back at the pier with about 20 minutes to spare before the ferry arrived to take us back to Mallaig. Some last photos of Eigg and the journey back to Mallaig:

The ferry stopped at Muck; a lovely-looking island. Perhaps I'll get there next year.

We saw seals on the rocks in the distance.

Goodbye small isles! And back to Mrs. Watts' for a good night's sleep, ready for my final hike tomorrow.

August 3rd, Monday, still on Eigg

My Dutch fellow guests left this morning. It was another grey, windy day and I decided to walk along the bay and try to find the Massacre and Cathedral Caves. I was supposed to follow the purple trail but, whereas the blue trail had been fairly easy to follow, I lost the purple trail about midway through the hike, just as I was heading down toward the beaches. Just like the other day at Loch An Nostarie, I kept heading into deep fern thickets. Although I didn't step into any bog, thank goodness, I stumbled several times into holes and almost pitched over. It was quite frustrating. After about an hour of this I did get close to the rocks but couldn't find the caves.

Tired, I decided it didn't matter whether I found the caves, I'd just enjoy sitting and watching the tide coming in.

So I ate my lunch and thought. I was alone as usual except for the ubiquitous sheep. It was easy to just let my thoughts roll around.

This sheep obviously was thinking too. I think that's the mainland in the distance but my sense of geography is not the best if you haven't found that out already.

Very elemental; like something out of a Wagner opera :)

As I turned back to the last place I'd seen a purple splodge for the trail, I saw the Sgurr brooding above me.

On the way back I stopped to look at the old manor house. Eigg used to be owned by a series of wealthy men. In the early 1900s, one of those landowners built a splendid Italianate villa and his wife designed beautiful gardens around the villa. The villa is now a local meeting house and the gardens are no more.

But under the arches in the front doorway, life still goes on. I was enchanted to see this little family; the young ones big enough that they would soon be gone, mom bringing them one last meal. (They were gone when I went back the next day.)

I'm reposting this map of Eigg to show where I walked today. Once again I started at Kildonan Farm, walked to the left along the beach to the leftmost darker green spot, partway along the edge of that darker green then down toward the dark grey line along the coast. I sat down at the coast to have my lunch then retraced my steps back toward Kildonan with a short stop at the manor house.

Just up from Kildonan Farm on a grassy hill are the ruins of the old Kildonan Church and cemetery. There is some controversy as to how old the church actually is--some say it's 16th century, some say it's 18th. It certainly looks older than any church I've seen so far. If you look closely at the far wall, just toward the left side, you'll see a small sculpture.

This is the best photo I could get of the sculpture. I couldn't actually get inside the church a the gate had rusted shut. I leaned over the gate and held my camera out to take the photo. To find out about it I had to resort to my usual Google to find out what this figure was and why it was protected like that. One website says that the figure was once thought to be a Sheela Na Gig sculpture--Celtic mother goddess. But this same website also doubted that it was such a figure. Still, there are some manuscripts that say that St. Donan, who founded Kildonan, was martyred in 617 by Irish pirates at the request of a pagan (Celtic) queen. Does this figure date from that time? Who knows??

Ruins of a Celtic cross in the cemetery.

The cemetery with old and new graves.

There are graves inside the church as well.

When I got back to the farm the water was off again. Although it's seemed wet to me the past few days, the island hasn't actually had that much rainfall; not enough to fill the well. When the water level gets too low, the pump stops working and Colin has to restart it. The pump was only off a few hours thank goodness. Four new guests had arrived: a couple from Inverness, an IT specialist working for the Highland Board of Education and a young woman from Edinburgh who was putting in new software at the doctor's office. Another huge dinner, another night of reading by the woodstove.

Sunday August 2, 2009 on Eigg

Breakfast was delayed an hour because of the water problem but it was fixed by 9 a.m. Good thing. My "city girl" mentality had kicked in big time with the commodes not flushing and no water. I sometimes joke that my idea of roughing it is a Quality Inn but it's only half a joke. I do like creature comforts like nice bathrooms and mattresses, pillows, windows, roofs....

In the past year I've become a fairly good hiker. I can walk for miles, "relieve" myself in the outdoors (although I try to avoid it as much as possible), I know what to wear and what to pack to carry for a day. But the idea of actually sleeping out in the wild. . .ummm. . .no. I will gaze at the stars and then return to comfort. I enjoy hiking because I like overcoming what I always felt were my physical limitations.

I was the reader rather than the doer when I was younger. And I still love to read--although reading books has been taking a back seat to the Internet for the past couple of years. But now I feel, well, more able to handle life because of the hiking. I figure, like flying, if I can overcome my fear of getting lost, of falling off a cliff, of not being able to complete the hike, then I am stronger than I assumed. And if I'm stronger than I assumed about that, maybe I am stronger than I assumed about other things as well.

But to get back to the "no water" situation on Eigg. The pump was fixed by 8:30 a.m. and we had a wonderful hot breakfast presented to us at 9 a.m. I love Scottish porridge; I've eaten it daily since I've been in Scotland. The Swiss couple were leaving Eigg so we said good-bye to them at breakfast. The Dutch couple was going to hike up to the Sgurr of Eigg; Eigg's cliff. This is the Sgurr; I took a photo of it as we left the farm.

An Sgurr is what is called a monadnock or inselberg, a knob or hill that rises up on its own. It looks a bit like a butte too. It was formed millions of years ago from lava. It's not a volcano though, not even an extinct one. The climb up to An Sgurr is steep and on a grey day it can be quite forbidding. So I decided that the Singing Sands hike sounded easier and more cheerful. The Dutch couple had done that hike the day before and said it was lovely.

Another reason I was curious about the singing sands was that when I first arrived in England, I read a Josephine Tey mystery called The Singing Sands in which the detective traveled to an island in the Hebrides (not Eigg) in search of the singing sands. So when I read the list of hikes and saw Singing Sands I decided I definitely wanted to see/hear them. The detective had found them peaceful and restorative; I hoped they'd do the same for me.

I had another laminated map and instructions on how to get there put together by Make Tracks but the Dutch couple advised me to follow a slightly longer trail. They said the scenery was beautiful. The islanders have mapped out some trails and colour coded them.

This is a photo of the map; there's a large poster of it at the ferry landing and you can also buy the maps at the gift shop. Our hosts at Kildonan lent us copies. The trails are hard to see in the photo but at least it's a visual of what I am talking about.

Kildonan Farm, where I started from, is on the point at the end of the red trail close to the bottom right of the island. I walked up a long road (the grey line) to the edge of the forest, the darker green on the map and then up through the forest, following the orange trail to where the blue trail began. The trails are a series of splodges of coloured paint on stones, on fence posts and sometimes even on the ground. I was amazed that they were easier to follow than the trails on the mainland although I did run into difficulty the following day with the Cathedral Cave.

At this point I'd come out of the forest and walked to the dark ridge, about to descend to the first beach at Laig Bay--not the singing sands.

I think that's the Isle of Muck in the distance.

Greylag geese on the beach at Laig Bay. They're the largest kind of goose in the UK and Europe. I don't know much about birds (again it's the city girl thing) so I had to ask my fellow guests at the farm that night. There are supposed to be loads of different bird species on Eigg but although I often heard them, I didn't see very many. Maybe I'm just not good at looking??

This is actually a road on Eigg, shared by walkers, cars and cows.

My first look at the singing sands. Actually, that island in the distance looks like Rum with its cloud cap. The sun broke through as I tried to find my way down through the pasture and cliff to the beach. I ran into a herd of cows led by a bull with rather long horns so swiftly retraced my steps and came down a different way.

Aaah at the beach. The sun was shining, it felt so warm that I took off my boots and socks and, voila, feet revealed! First time my hard working feet have seen the light of day outside for the whole of this trip. I walked around on the sand and, while it didn't sing, it definitely squeaked. The sand is made of quartz and that's why it squeaks apparently. It was brilliantly white and the beach was--well--squeaky clean as well. There were a few other people down on the beach too, all enjoying the day.

I felt that this beach was as beautiful as any I have seen in the US, the Bahamas, Hawaii, Bermuda....

I stayed on the beach for a good hour, just relaxing after my 5-mile walk. Then the clouds seemed to be moving in so I packed up the remains of my packed lunch. I looked up at the cliffs--that was another option for me to get back to Kildonan--but decided I was too tired to take on a cliff. So I walked back along the road from Howlin. I was glad of my decision as 15 minutes after I started along the road it started to rain quite hard. The road itself was quite hilly so that when I got back to the farmhouse my calves were so sore I could hardly hobble up and down the stairs to the attic. I was glad to be the first one back because that meant I could take a nice long bath in the narrow but deep tub. I felt so much better. Then the Dutch couple returned, we compared notes about our hike--they said the hike to the Sgurr was challenging and, considering how fit they were, I decided that was one hike I wasn't going to do. Another wonderful meal cooked by Mairi, a roaring fire in the woodstove, a good book on the history of Eigg and I was as relaxed as a cooked noodle.

August 1st, Saturday. Sailing to Isle of Eigg

The itinerary said that I was meant to take the ferry over to Eigg today at 2:15. Whenever I am supposed to be somewhere at a certain time I get nervous about missing the connection. Which is quite silly as the b&b was an 8-minute walk from the ferry terminal; I watched the ferries go in and out every morning. And the ferry was only leaving at 2:15 so it wasn't like I had to be up at the crack of dawn. Still, that sailing time meant that, being the nervous nellie that I am and also given my propensity for getting lost, I couldn't go too far from the town. I decided I wouldn't rush out of my b&b, just take my time, leave my bags at the b&b and just stroll around the perimeter of Mallaig.

As I walked up the hill past my b&b I looked back and saw Eigg (on the left) and Rum, shadowy in the early morning sunshine. They'd been two shadows in the distance for the three days I'd been here and soon I'd get to see them closer.

I'd taken a photo of Skye a few days ago but this was a different view of it, further along its coastline. I did wonder whether I ought to have gone over to Skye. I know that it's beautiful and there is much to see there but, well, I wanted to do something a little offbeat on this holiday. Dougie at Make Tracks had said that Skye is the island that most people want to go to and I was also intrigued by the idea of the "small isles" of Eigg and Rum. I only had so much money so I chose Eigg as Dougie also said that Eigg was the more interesting of the two. So I only saw the others in the distance and maybe some day I'll be back.

I admired the wildflowers growing by the road.

And stopped to watch a fisherman repainting his boat in the harbour. I'd never thought about it before but there are a lot of blue boats. Guess it goes well with the water??

Here's a dog who appeared to be waiting for the postman. The sight tickled my funnybone. I had

n't noticed the dog at first until he popped his head round. He didn't bark or anything. Just looked at me and I thought "Hmmm. Wonder if he and the postman are friends?"

I had a huge lunch at a restaurant called The Cabin. I'd gone in early and good thing too because very soon it filled up and people were turned away. I enjoyed every bit of lunch and was surprised to hear American accents at the table next to mine. I hadn't seen any Americans since my first night there when I saw those two couples in Highland gear. These Americans were dressed in trendy outdoor gear and the one woman among them looked very bored. The men seemed to be comparing the various places they'd been to. I tried to strike up a bit of a conversation with them about where they were going but they answered in monosyllables. Ah well, I've found plenty of Scots, English and Europeans who love to chat. And as I waited for the ferry to load, I struck up a conversation with a young English couple who were also going to Eigg with their dog. They were renting one of the simple cottages on the island for a week and planned to do some walking.

This statue on the pier at Mallaig had intrigued me. I hadn't been able to get very close to it as it's in an area that's blocked off so I snapped it as we moved past it on the ferry. The two figures are looking across to Skye but I don't know any more than that about it. I didn't find any literature on it and I forgot to ask Ian in the shop. At least I know it's not Bonnie Prince Charlie :)

The sky was very grey and so was the water as we made the 1.5 hour journey over to Eigg. We passed Rum (pictured). It often has that cloud cap hanging over it even when there's sun on the other islands. Someone on Eigg told me that Tolkien supposedly had Rum in mind when he created Mordor in his book. I checked it out on google and several other websites also mentiion the Tolkien/Rum connection. So either it's true or the other folks ran into the same fellow I did.

As we approached Eigg, I took a photo of a white farmhouse perched on a hill. I didn't realize it then but that would be my b&b for the next three nights, Kildonan Farm. We docked at high tide and getting off the boat was a bit tricky. We walked down part of the ramp and then we had to watch for the waves to draw back and rush across the end of the ramp before the water surged back and swamped us. And it was, of course, pouring rain.

I felt a bit uneasy when I first arrived. Eigg IS a very small isle and everyone seemed to know one another and where they were going. As I've said before, I may give the appearance of being an intrepid traveler but on the inside I'm often feeling quite timid. There was no real reception area at the dock, just a road leading up to building that was called the cafe. Even my English friends had each other and were met by someone who said they'd show them their cottage. So I stood there for a moment until a man asked me did I know where I was going? When I said no, that I was going to Kildonan, he said, ah they were here a few moments ago, just go on up to the cafe. So I did. There were about 25 people all chatting away and I asked again if anyone knew the folks from Kildonan. They pointed to a woman in a purple sweater who turned and said, ah you must be Valerie. She said it would be awhile before she would be leaving--she was part of a group having a good chat--and to wander around the building. There was a tiny grocery store, a craft shop, a series of posters on the walls describing the history of Eigg, how the islanders had bought the island from their landlord in the early 1990s and how they are trying to create a green community and there was, as well, the cafe. So I sat down with a piece of fruit loaf and waited for Mairi Carr. And wondered if I was going to enjoy this. I felt lonely and foreign.

But after about 20 minutes Mairi came and got me and once we were in her jeep bumping along the very narrow road to the farm, her warm manner made me feel a whole lot better. She said there were four other guests at the farmhouse--a couple from France and a couple from the Netherlands. We bumped along the road to the farmhouse and when we arrived she helped me lug my suitcase up to the attic.

Yep, three flights of stairs. I had this bedroom to myself and decided on the bed on the left but I'd be sharing two bathrooms with the other guests. Still they were big bathrooms--they even had window seats in them--with real bath tubs.

And there was an inviting guest lounge on the second floor with a blessedly warm fire in the stove, comfy leather couches and chairs and a huge centre table piled high with interesting books and magazines. Mairi told me to settle myself in, offered me coffee or tea (I told her I'd brought my own) and brought me up a plate of gingerbread. I unpacked my bags and settled myself down on the couch in the lounge with a history of Eigg. About an hour later, the couple from the Netherlands arrived back from their hike and we soon were talking about the hiking on Eigg and on Mallaig--they were signed up with Make Tracks as well. And in another hour, the French couple--who were actually from Geneva--arrived back and we enjoyed the warmth of the fire in the lounge until dinner was announced.

Because there is no hotel/restaurant on the island, I had full board at Kildonan. And was the food ever good! That first night we were served a delicious soup and then lasagne and then a fruit meringue dessert. Mairi put out a notebook for us to indicate what we wanted for breakfast (egg, sausage, bacon, etc.) and whether we also wanted a packed lunch the next day.

The only small problem was that just as we were finishing dinner, the woman helping Mairi told us that the cold water had gone off. Hmmm--well, if the cold water is off, it won't be long before the hot is off as well. And, sure enough, as we were settled in the lounge dozing in front of the fire, we found out that the cold water was now used up as well and the toilets had stopped flushing. Hmmm. So I went to bed without brushing my teeth and hoping that there would be running water tomorrow.