Bob Macdonald
Corinne Ferguson
Ros Wright
Maggie Duncan
Bill Lindsay
Graeme Milton
Fiona Duncan
Alan Duncan
Dan Moysey
Susan Jacyna
Simon Jacyna
Fiona Cunninghame
Katrina Duncan
Claire Proctor
Margaret Patterson
Drummond Beattie
Jake Lee

 Now that the nights are drawing in, time to cast our minds back to a brighter time. When the endless days of early summer stretched before us and an Island trip beckoned.

Jura was chosen as our May Bank Holiday destination and as rumours of its inacessibility disappeared in a welter of ferries the above listed rabble descended to double the local population. (There was actually a large wedding party staying the same weekend and visitors possibly did outnumber the natives)

Alan, Bob and Fiona C were making a real holiday of it, arriving a day early and cycling and walking in fine but chilly weather. They climbed Corra Bheinn and even had time to visit the fabulous white sandy beach down Glen Batrick. Small islands do have magical qualities. One of which is the richness of wildlife that thrive in their remoteness. The truth of this was displayed in the first 30 seconds of disembarking from our ferry, when a hen harrier, a short eared owl and ‘something else interesting’ were spotted.

Our hosts for the weekend were the Jura Hotel and their marvellous donation-only campsite. Once all were settled in, the communal tent was erected. However, a combination of unseasonally cold weather and an uncommonly warm welcome in the pub, meant that no-one went in it again until we left. Next time.

The goal for most on Jura were the Paps. Though why anyone who had been up them before chose to go again, I do wonder. They look spectacular and afford magnificent views, but are hard and unremitting. Everyone on the Saturday attacked them in some way, with all manner of combinations and routes. Some did one, some two, some three and there was a curious case of someone going up one of them twice. The weather, though cold, was clear and for many of the repeat Pappers they saw the views they had missed on their original ascents.

A fine evening saw the usual shennanigins and as ever, a diplomatic veil is best drawn over individual behaviours. It was a beautiful, but bitterly cold night. Bill taking advantage of the clear skies to spend a night-long vigil out of his tent. He said he was tracking the path of Venus and who are we to say otherwise.

Sunday saw a similarly unanimous (unoriginal) exodus, as everyone went to the far North of the island on a trip to the world famous whirlpool at Corryvreckan.

Graeme M, Corinne and Ros gain top kudos for cycling the hilly route, whilst the rest of us squeezed into two vehicles to wind our way down the only road on the island. Hard to get lost when there’s only one road, however, that one road is quite narrow and if you lose that, you can soon find a ditch. Mmmmm.. That’d best stay along with the evening entertainments in the memories of those involved.

After the hours of toiling up steep rock the day before, it was great to enjoy the island and the sea in more benign conditions. George Orwell’s house where he largely wrote 1984 was passed on the way, thus adding a rare bit of culture to a MMC day out.

The ‘world famous whirlpool’ does, I am sure have its good days, but when we saw it, it was singularly unspectacular. Grand place for a pic-nic though.

Another night of warmth, food not cooked in a tent, ales and whisky, saw the far from hardy and very sensible campers make full use of the local facilities. The hotel, being as it is, part of a distillery, are rightly proud of their extensive collection of single malts. Fiona D had them stumped however when she insisted on getting a wee dram of “Sensation”. They have said they will get a bottle for when we return.

Graeme M was sadly unimpressed with the hospitality he received, as he deposited his tea on the beach in the early hours. There must have been something decidely wrong with it, as even Penny TWD left the remains for the seagulls.

Due to late ferries on the Monday, there was a fair bit more mooching about the Island for many of the party, which is what Islands are best for. A fabulous three days seemed longer and the memories will stay long too. It was a fair trek to get there, but well worth it and in some degree all the better because of its distance from home.

Superb.

Author: Jake, Photos: Dan