Misty Mountain Hop pt 2

Monday kicked off the house hunting in earnest with appointments in Salen in the morning and Tobermory in the afternoon. Let’s just say that between them they threw up some very interesting characters and properties but sadly nothing that really fitted the bill.

There was little time for wildlife watching, although I did see another White Tailed Eagle in the distance whilst checking out Salen Bay for Otters. In previous years I have seen a mother and two cubs in this Bay, but having returned several times during the week, it seems they may have left this particular area or have become more secretive.

 Salen Bay – Not so Ottery

 Tuesday involved visits to houses in the Lochdon, Aros and Dervaig areas and meeting some very pleasant people. All had their own potential (the houses I mean) - but I wasn’t sure that I had the bravery or necessary cash to take them on.

Having some free time left in the afternoon I headed up the road from Dervaig to another place I know well - the tiny fishing harbour of Croig.

Croig is so Mull, it hurts. From Croig you can walk west along the northern coast and find superb little sandy coves and beaches, or, as I did, walk out north east to the point (near the monument) and look across to the Ardnamurchan peninsular on the mainland, whilst watching carefully for otters, in and around the many, seaweed covered, rocky inlets.

 

 

One of the beaches north west of Croig

 

I was in luck and spotted an otter fishing well out to sea, but was never in with a chance to get really close. Nevertheless, the rocks on the point made a great place to sit and ponder the riddles of the universe, the meaning of life and what I fancied for dinner at the pub.
 

This guy clearly fancies the seafood special

Wednesday morning I was back in Tobermory. I had never explored the back roads and lanes of “Tobe” in such detail before and the place was beginning to make me a little depressed. I have to say that, behind its picture perfect frontage, the town reminded me of an old lady who had seen better days, was letting herself go to seed – and what’s more didn’t care.

Tobermoray - lovely icing but has someone left the cake out in the rain?

Wednesday afternoon concluded the scheduled viewings with two more properties back in Dervaig. I did stop off briefly during my travels on Wednesday however, to photograph a tourist eagle – the kind you find sitting on telegraph poles all over Mull and who have little regard for the locals or visitors alike. Unless, of course, you should stray a bit too close and so cause them to flap away lazily into the air.

 

Buzzard (Buteo Buteo) (the Tourists Eagle)
"I am a linesman for the county"

Thursday – another quick trip into Tobermoray, back for a second look at a place in Dervaig - then it’s my time again and so over to Calgary Bay, for a walk along the coastal path. Calgary is another good place to spot Golden Eagles soaring high above the cliffs, often accompanied by harrowing Buzzards or noisy Ravens. Once again I was lucky enough to spot an eagle, but a long way off – certainly no photos – and whilst I think it was of the golden variety it could have possibly been a white tailed.

 

Calgary Bay

Calgary is the only place on Mull where you can find a strip of machair between the land and the beach, but at this time of year it really just looks like ordinary grass. The weather (which typically of the west coast, had been variable all week) stayed fine and dry allowing me time to have a pleasant walk round the north edge of the bay, before returning to the cottage and then down the high street to the bar for fish n chips and a pint.

For my last full day I toured round the northern edge of Loch Na Keal then round Loch Tuath, across the moors, back round the coast to Calgary and finally Dervaig. On the way, I made many stops and detours to look for big flappy things or wet furry things, but without luck.

At one stage along the way I did, however, need to negotiate a right (rite?) of passage, with a rather belligerent highland beast who had claimed the single track road as his own  Bealach na Bà.

This 4X4's got a heck of a set of Bull Bars!

 

Having safely agreed terms with shaggy, I then spent some time trying to photograph a Stonechat – they let you get so close, then hop along to the next post, it drives you mad – the final result was not great but after all the effort I’m going to include it anyway.

 

Stonechat - sitting still for 5 seconds

 Friday night at the “Bear Pit” (the local bar) is when the locals come out to play and boy to they know how to enjoy themselves. Their hospitality and generosity belies any stereotyping of Scottish frugalness and it was great to meet with familiar faces again (dare I say friends).

 

I can only hope that it means you are accepted when a Five foot two Hebridean clasps his arms around you and declares “Tony, it’s good to see you again, ya big fat whoo-er”.
 

Craignure Ferry Terminal 7.30 am

 

Sadly, with a Ferry to catch the following morning, I had to curtail the Friday night hospitality and so my latest Mull adventure was over.

Will I go back to live there? It’s a distinct possibility, more than a possibility - but first I have to find the right place and based on this week I'm not sure that will be so easy. But they do say nothing worth having is easy.

No time to brood on what could be however. Sunday morning it was back to reality and I was on duty with the rest of the FoHESC gang at our Open Day, down at the local reserve (see link to FoHESC blog for more details).