Skip to main content

To the Ross of Mull (9th - 10 July 2021)

That night the rain came but we didn’t notice. It must have been the ~12 miles we’d just walked. In the morning the ground was awash and the only suitable footwear was wellies.


The tiny burn next to our camp was a torrent, fed from an almighty waterfall just above on the hillside. Yesterday this had been hardly noticeable but now it was cascading down.


The lady in the café said, rather surprisingly, that she hadn’t often seen the waterfall like that.


There were four other camper vans with us and they were all frequent visitors to Mull and this place. The previous night though there had been another two first-timers. One couple had taken the train from London to Glasgow where they had hired a modest van for the week, that had been nicely converted, using a distressed pallet wood theme. It looked very nice.


Slowly the puddles drained and the rain stopped much sooner than expected. The plan had been to sit it out for the day but there was no need. We paid our 2 x£5 for the two night stay and drove back through Rhododendron Avenue to the main road.


Turning left we drove up and over

Glen More but there was no visibility due to cloud and rain up there and we missed any glimpse of Ben More.


We made our way slowly west along Ross of Mull, pulling in to passing places to allow oncoming traffic to pass and sometimes to allow traffic behind to overtake.


I had imagined that it wouldn’t take long to drive to the west of ROM but it seemed to take an age. At Bunnessan we bought sliced bread, rolls and milk in the tiny shop. Both bread and milk had loads of life, proving that we aren’t detached from modern logistics.




We went to Ardalanish Weavers www.ardlanish.com and spent the night at their back of the beach field (no facilities at all) and used for the first time, our 20 litre toilet waste ‘overflow’ tank which we strap to the roof.


This extends the ‘range’ of our loo, giving us longer before we need to get to a ‘chem disp’ point. We are modern and use green fluid rather than blue. This means that we should be able to drop our waste into any septic tank, as the green fluid doesn’t harm the seals, unlike the blue.


I showed the people here this detail on the green fluid bottle and they then said we could dump it in their tank. It was too late though as it was strapped to the roof rack (and no, the drain wasn’t slightly open so as to let it empty as we drove).


Anyway green not blue toilet fluid is the take-away from this post 😀





As well as a nice stroll along a deserted windy beach, I had a great chat with Adam who works on the farm, about restoring Land Rovers. Surprisingly he wasn’t aware of https://yrmit.co.uk the manufacturer of a vast array of replacement metal parts. His restorations should be a little easier from now on.


The weavers let us peep into their workshop which looks a little like some we viewed in Chiangmai Mai, Thailand. We talked to a lady about the wool dyes she was using, as she stirred four vats being warmed over propane burners.


Using flowers and seaweed, the names of which I can’t remember, she produces the dyes in the required quantities for the yarns that they will use. The finished products range from smartwaistcoats to jumpers and scarves.


We didn’t buy any woollens I’m afraid to say but we did buy some of Landyman’s Hebredian hoggett cutlets which we would eat a couple of dinners later. Yumm. That could set me off on a rant in defence of the meat industry. 


What amazing animals sheep and cattle are, to be able to convert rain and boggy ground into lovely meat. I don’t care if it might just possibly ‘affect’ the climate. So does driving to sports events (for example) and no one is suggesting they should be banned. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Potes and environs

Potes is a bustling town that’s clearly ‘in the mountains’ but isn’t quite a mountain town. Well that was what we thought until we went for a walk. More on that later. First we got to know the site ( Camping La Viorna ) and the neighbours. After the squeeze of the first night near the pool, we were upgraded to a pitch at the end of the lowest terrace which had a superb view of the eastern massive of the Picos. So although this was still a squeeze pitch, somehow we felt good about it. The ‘squeeze’ happened later in the day. ☺️ Happily our immediate neighbours were quiet Dutchland people who like to eat their tea early and retire in good time. They always enjoy taking to us Brits, rather than those Germans and soon I was engaged because I was asked a question. “Why do you have a UK flag on your number plate, rather than a Welsh Scottish or English flag?”. Tricky! I explained that England isn’t a country like Wales or Scotland. They have their own  parliaments and make rules for them...

First views of the Picos

 Santillana del Mar comes as a surprise to those of us that haven’t done the prep and read about this place. Fancy having planning controls going back to the 16C. when you have such amazing stone buildings. This town is a tourist town certainly but it’s thoroughly deserved. Beautiful sturdy Cotswold stone coloured buildings are everywhere. The stone quoins, lintols and supports are impressive but there’s plenty of substantial hefty cross sections of wood too. We wander the streets, looking at the wares aimed at us tourists but encounter cascades of water from the roof tiles. It’s raining and there are no gutters! The bar is welcoming and we cleverly order dos cañas de cerveza  having learnt this glass size from a bartender in Tenerife. We are rewarded with a plate of crisps too and settle on the bar stools, wondering whether to eat here. Unfortunately we discuss this for too long and the tables fill and we are left on the bar stools until we decide to wander again. Inside...

Lago del Valle

Continuing the walking theme, the next day we drove up another of the five valleys that connect with Pola de Somiedo, to get to a suitable start point. This was just below the last hamlet, Outeiro which is at the end of the tarmac. The intention was to walk from there, up to the corrie / cwm of Lago del Valle. The snag of the day was that as we set off to drive the narrow steep road up the gorge from the campsite, we immediately caught up with a full size concrete lorry, This was making its way to that last village and el driver was  not in a mood to pull over. So we had time to look at the gorge-that-becomes-a-high-valley. It’s hard to describe these landscapes. They are severe, incredibly scenic, remote and completely unspoilt. They are also so near the ferry ports of the coast that only £800 separates them from more campervan travellers from Great Britain (& Northern Island). We started the walk and soon saw the concrete which had already been dropped for the pad of a build...