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Cruising off the coast of Agryll from the ferry port of Oban, I embarked on a sojourn to three mystical Scottish isles. It did not take me long to discover why throngs of tourists join the excursion
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that is dubbed one of the best day tours in Britain - Mull with its superb mountain and coastal scenery and its picture-perfect 'capital', Tobermory; Iona with its special charm and historical significance as the birthplace of Christianity in Britain; and Staffa whose magnificent Fingal's Cave inspired Mendelssohn to compose the Hebridean Overture.
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Mull
The volcanic island of Mull (meaning 'Mass of Hill') is the largest in Lorn with a coastline of about 300 miles. Lush green mountains and valleys adorn the north while the southern rocky landscape gives way to wide sandy beaches, providing the well-worn scenic route to the isle of Iona. Mull has several peaks, the highest being Ben More which, at 3169 feet, offers spectacular views of the surrounding islands on a clear day.
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Coming into Craignure Harbour on the Oban-Mull ferry, I was greeted by the view of the formidable Duart Castle, the stronghold of the chiefs of the MacLean clan and one of the oldest inhabited castles in Scotland. Just
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300 years ago, Mull was fought over by the Highland clans of the Campbells, the MacDonalds and the MacLeans. Duart Castle itself was lost to the Campbells in 1745 and only returned to the MacLeans in 1911. The restored castle is open to the public at a fee and is certainly worth a visit.
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Mull is also home to another castle, Torosay Castle, which can be reached by a delightful narrow-gauge toy train, the Mull & West Highland Railway, from Craignure.
Tobermory
The bus journey from Craignure to Tobermory follows a narrow undulating road along a winding coast of glittering blue waters, with occasional sightings of birdlife and seals lazing on the rocks. Stunning views of dark green mountains and fertile valleys dotted by pretty cottages roll by, much like the canvasses of landscape paintings.
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Just as I was completely relaxed by the lull of serenity of the beautiful island, the bus rounded a corner and gave me a surprise sneak preview of Tobermory. Peaking through the tree branches, the fishing port sparkled
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like a gem, with its much-photographed pastel-coloured houses reflecting brilliantly in the clear harbour waters. It is indeed a picturesque village and a pleasant place to stay. The
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youth hostel where I was putting up happened (happily) to be one of the brightly painted houses - the burgundy one - along the Main Street and lining the idyllic waterfront where many colourful sailing ships dock.
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Tobermory boasts a full complement of tourist services, hotels, restaurants, shops, pubs and other amenities. It also has a distillery and a small museum. Browsing the shops alone, with interesting craft, jewellery and knick-knacks a-plenty, took me one afternoon. It was also hard to resist the chocolate factory shop where I would have cleaned out the whole tempting range of freshly-made chocolates, if not for the fact that I was nursing a sore throat and I wasn't sure if the packaging would survive the trip home!
One can round off the evening by catching a show at the reputable Mull Little Theatre, Britain's smallest with only 43 seats and just 8 miles west of Tobermory at Dervaig.
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Iona
Iona, my next destination, is only a 5-minute ferry ride from Fionnphort on the southwestern tip of Mull. The small island, some three miles long and one mile wide, is most notable as the place where St. Columba, an Irish prince, landed in 563 before proceeding to convert Scotland. It is said that he chose Iona as the centre of his Christian mission because it was the first place he could land from which he could not see Ireland.
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St. Columba converted the inhabitants and established a monastery that was to have a chequered history. In the year 798, the first of the Viking raids on Iona began and continued regularly over the next hundred years or so. Defenceless inhabitants were murdered and the monks massacred. The famed Book of Kells, which was believed to have been transcribed at St. Columba's monastery, was taken to Kells in Ireland when the monks were driven from Iona. The monks eventually returned and the monastery prospered till its destruction in the Reformation. The monastery ruins were finally gifted to the Iona Cathedral Trustees in 1899 by the Eighth Duke of Agryll.
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Today, there is little visible evidence of the original wooden buildings of St. Columba's monastery save for the restored Abbey. A service was being conducted as I stepped into the nave, evidence of the still flourishing religious community in Iona. The simplicity of the black-orange-white stone walls under the high wooden ceiling adds to the spiritual significance, giving one a profound sense of serenity and calmness.
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After a quiet moment at the altar, I proceeded to the cloister where the columns and arches were beautifully decorated with carvings and designs. There is also a busy Christian bookshop where memorabilia can be purchased.
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In front of the Abbey, a stone Celtic Cross stood amongst other monuments. The cross, which incorporates the Druid symbol of a circle at the intersection, parallels Iona's status as a place of religious practice for first the Druids and then the Christians.
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The Abbey is also well-known as the burial ground for many Scottish and Scandinavian Kings. Some visitors come to see the grave of the former Labour Party leader, John Smith, who is also buried in this ancient cemetery.
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A short walk from the Abbey brought me to the Augustinian Nunnery ruins, one of the finest examples of a medieval nunnery in Britain. Established in 1200 following the introduction of new monastic orders into Scotland and Ireland, it was a centre for women with a religious calling. The community however died out when the reformers ended catholic worship. The buildings became derelict and were, together with the Abbey ruins, given to the Iona Cathedral Trustees in 1899.
The ruins were a lovely sight to behold, not least because of the unusual touch of dainty flowers being planted strategically at every nook and corner. Many a visitor, including myself, sat on its grounds or wandered amongst the ruins in contemplation of what might have been.
Iona is indeed a very special place. It was with a peaceful heart that I departed from the ancient isle.
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Staffa
My last destination was Staffa, an uninhabited island which can be reached from Fionnphort or Iona, via a 1-hour boat ride. Despite having seen many a brochure picture of Fingal's Cave, the vision of the island looming up was startlingly awesome. I found myself snapping enthusiastically together with the other excited visitors.
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One simply marvels at the incredible handiwork of Mother Nature - the right-angled edges, the sliced platform top, and most of all the many basalt pillars which seemingly sprout up from the sea to hold up and form the island.
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Staffa is actually the eastern end of the geological phenomenon in Northern Ireland known as the Giant's Causeway. As the boat rounded to the right of the island for the landing, a smaller rock isle appeared, again made up of
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pillars. What a majestic sight it was to see the dark blue waters rushing through the channel in between. The rhythmic flourish of the waves fluttering down the rows of piano-key-like columns immediately reminded me of an orchestra playing. No wonder Felix Mendelssohn was inspired to write an overture after he visited the island in 1829!
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It was fun to walk on the uneven stone circle tops which lead to the front of the island to Fingal's Cave. Inside the cave, the beating of the waves reverberates a mysterious hymn against the rock walls that are reminiscent of organ pipes in a cathedral.
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It is also possible to walk on the top of the island which is delightfully covered by a carpet of green and yellow. Strolling on the island felt like being in paradise on earth - the soft turf on the tender slopes, the beautiful
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wild flowers with unknown butterflies darting by, and all manners of birds swooping above our heads and down the dramatic coast. My heart sang as I made my way to the northern side of the island where a huge puffin colony dwells. There, we were entertained by the wobbling antics of the yellow-beaked white-napkin-fronted birds when they tried to fly.
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I was still in an intoxicated mood long after I departed from the extraordinary island. The isles have certainly worked their magic on me - images of the splendid Mull, the sacred Iona and the amazing Staffa would remain embellished on my mind for a long time to come.
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