By Adrian

Mallaig, it turns out, is a popular hub for accessing the west coast of Scotland. With one of the few train lines to the coast there is a regular influx of day trippers, walkers, and stalkers. We become familiar with the green jacketed parties boarding charter boats heading off to stalk some wildlife. Hikers abound and we later discovered many are heading to and from the most remote pub in Britain which is a boat ride away.

After locating probably the best bakery in the west of Scotland at the end of the marina we wondered if we would ever leave. But increasing girth and a rare forecast of good weather overcame our Mallaig malaise and we moseyed out to the islands.

Away discreetly hiding at the end of the marina dock
UK signage has a certain clarity not found in other English speaking parts of the world. I wonder what tourists with limited English think this means?

Rum seemed an appropriate destination in part of world dominated by whisky. The island had a long history of habitation from the standing-up-stones period to the current day. Its mostly a tourist destination now for camping, walking and shooting.

There were mooring buoys for visitors, but we chose the quieter anchoring option on a windless evening. I suppose I should mention this isn’t us, simply a nice neighbour who had the same idea, on a beautiful morning.
In 1888 John Bullough bought the island and his son later built this cottage to accommodate a few friends on hunting trips. Its not open to the public at the moment so we had to make do with a walk by. Seemed like nice spot for the weekend with a few friends. In recent years there have been several attempts to buy and renovate the property, but a deal is yet to be made.
250 000 ton of soil were imported for the gardens. Of course there is a sprung dance floor, a squash court, a golf course and a bowling green for when guests run out of things to shoot.

Bernie demanded we head ashore for a spaniel walk to the other side of the island. It was a hot still day so we agreed and headed off on an 18km traverse of the island.

Yep that’s a location appropriate thistle with Away in the background.
We shot these deer with Skye towering in the background.
We sat by the beach for lunch. Definitely a walking day. Not good for sailing.
Suddenly there was a big bellowing sound and everyone looked around.
Deary me, we were staggered. He had been sitting in plain sight and we hadn’t spotted him till he stood up to survey his kingdom
It was a hot day but Bernie discovered the muddy drainage ditches along side the track were ideal to cool ones paws, and tummy, and ears, and tail. I think its going to be a dog bath day!
As we got back to the boat the coastguard helicopter swooped into the bay and landed in front of the castle. We expect someone was suffering from heat stroke after temperatures had soared into the early twenties that day.
After a hot sunny day we knew what was coming.
Some Scottish atmosphere drifted across the bay.

Time to move on to Skye which was only a short hop away. Relatively settled conditions meant we could try an ‘day anchorage’ with ‘the worst katabatic winds’ in Scotland.

Skye is mostly sky, but occasionally Skye
We braved the grey and went ashore for a quick look. But it wasn’t till the next day that we discovered why there is a steady stream of tourist boats arriving here.
Plenty of Scottish drama: lake, waterfalls, rapids and a hut run by the Junior Mountaineering Club of Scotland, Glasgow Section.
We didn’t need to go far to find the lake and spectacular scenery
Bernie was happy to be on land but we were all a bit tired from our long walk on Rum.
Skye with less sky.
Bernie knows the dinghy means adventures and will jump in, just in case, even if we are not going anywhere.
Leaving the anchorage the seals and shags were wildly excited to see Away pass close by.
This one even looked up. It was probably the last sun they would see in days so sun baking was more important than passing vessels.
We were heading back to the coast when we spotted one of the more remote beach houses on Skye

A blow was forecast but before heading for shelter we headed to Britain’s most remote mainland pub, The Old Forge at Knoydart. Its accessible by a ‘2 day 18 mile hike’ or a somewhat shorter ferry ride from Mallaig. While most of the hiking booted punters downed pints in the manner of long distance walkers satisfied after a challenging walk, we had dinner with a chap who had run the 18 miles that afternoon. Apparently there is a free beer for achieving that feat which was enough of an incentive for some.

Few things better in life that looking out of a pub window at your safely moored house.

The next day we enjoyed the short sail back to the bakery at Mallaig for a much needed dose of scrolls, chocolate croissant, sourdough, focaccia and sausage rolls.

Mallaig is also the destination for the ‘Harry Potter train’. It had arrived at the station so we had a look and a quick chat to the driver.
Fi chose a suitably contrasting outfit for her portrait in front of the locomotive.

Next time we sit out the first winter storms and then go to a distillery to sit out some more winter storms, and head back to Mallaig before more winter storms roll in.