A day in the rain

If the weather had cooperated I would have been on a 14 hour excursion to the isle of Coll today. I’d never heard of the place until I met someone in a Meetup group who talked about a visit there. However, no boats were going to Coll or Staffa today so all in all I felt very fortunate to have had such a glorious day going to Staffa and Treshnish islands.

I indulged myself in a late start, leaving my flat til 10! I set off to explore the back streets of Oban, heading in the general direction of ‘up’ , intending to go to McCaig’s tower which the Rough Guide poetically describes as ‘the only truly remarkable site in Oban.’ I wandered around residential streets with a variety of houses built through several centuries. When I go on ‘walkabout’ by myself it feels very empowering and exciting. It’s a fairly new experience for me and I like the way it felt in Sicily and Iceland. I’d seen virtually no toursts by themselves since arriving in Oban. Eventually I arrived at the strange edifice, reminiscent of a Roman colosseum except this is circular, not oval. Built by some rich guy in honor of his family a century ago it was never completed. I had the place to myself until a couple emerged from the opposite side, who I quickly commandeered to take my photo. The views must be magnificent on a clear day but the islands were enveloped in thick fog which looked as if it had settled in for the day. But I quite enjoy this kind of weather. It reminds me of growing up in Affetside and it inspired me to take photos of things falling apart, or things that need some tender loving care hmm….. like me? 

Returning to town I decided to hit the tourist trail and look in the shops- not something I usually indulge in. I found a fabric store where I purchased a counter cross stitch hedgehog and when I showed the shopkeeper my hedgehog socks he pointed out a bolt of hedgehog covered fabric. Yep! Bought some of that too, along with a Heather embroidery to do.   I found a wonderful chocolate shop where I did indulge in a special got chocolate with cream, and a lemon meringue pie. I sat across from an American couple, the first Americans I’d encountered. I made some comment about how delicious their waffles looked but they didnt appear to be in the mood for company. I left them to their discussion of how many steeps their fitbits had recorded. I also bought the new Peter May book I’ll keep you safe, set in Paris but the story is about a fabric designer from the Hebrides.

I returned to my flat to get out of my wet clothes and eat the dressed crab I’d bought at the ferry, and then, donning dry clothes I set off again, following my nose, on a street adjacent to my flat that I hadn’t been down before. It soon had me climbing high again and I found myself on a footpath marked Pulpit Hill. I felt like I’d discovered its very existence. Again, I’d left the tourists far behind and I had a bird’s eye view of the bay. I came back down by a different route, fully satisfied by my ramblings. I completed the day with my first venture into a bar, adjacent to The Perle hotel. Only two couples were in at this early hour and I enjoyed a window seat overlooking the harbour sipping a   Blue Moon. My evening’s entertainment  was provided by watching an outrageous performance of Grieg’s piano concerto live from the BBC proms. I could not watch the soloist. She put Lang Lang to shame. For the most expressive passages her hair fell completely over her face. It was like watching a spoof of a concert pianist. At least we had fun with it! I tried to text Sarah that I watching it but autocomplete kicked in to say I was watching the ‘grief’ piano concerto. Autocomplete for once got it right!