Pas d'elle yeux Rhone que nous!

Last Thursday Bill the Diver called to say that he would be round to see to the mooring that we need fixing for the RIB - we had one for Lily (I still haven't told you about her have I?) but it has disappeared, along with two creel marker buoys. I decided to take the canoe ( 'Better Drowned') out and see if I could find any mortal remains - the water is so clear in the bay. Could not find the mooring chain (obliterated by weed it later transpired) but did find one of the buoys, so hauled it aboard the canoe (wet, weedy and heavy, being weighted by an ancient creel) and brought it ashore. Paddling round the bay is great; you can get really close to the seals on the rocks, and they come and gather round the canoe as you move along. Bill, Liz and Colin arrived later to inspect the old mooring, and then came up to the house for tea...

On Friday I went down to the jetty to bring the canoe up to the house; the water was so still, and the cloud so low, that there was an eerie beauty about the bay. Went for a paddle (without a buoyancy aid, oh sinner) and got within ten feet of the seals on the rocks - they then gave me an escort back to the jetty. Used the trolley thing to bring canoe back to the house, so much easier than on the shoulders, which I can do on my own, but I swear it shortens my stature by amounts I cannot afford to lose.

Saturday, had to head back to the mainland, but compensation in seeing three otters on the way to Feolin. All the time I spent lurking by the jetty in the drizzle on Friday and not a sighting.... Really sad to leave the Isle this time, but will be back in a few weeks, with a nice list of dinghy repairing and quilt making jobs to be getting along with. Plus, we will have the RIB to go exploring in. Corrywreckan, here I come............

Inverlussa and the Faithful Hound

We drove up to the 'end of the road' to show Mum the whole of the island, and then went to Inverlussa to picnic. The pics show Mum and Dad on the beach (note the sea serpent attacking Mum from the rear!!), Dad looking south towards An Dunan, and the Faithful Hound who 'dogged' our footsteps and was a miasma of midges.

Harness the Sledge Dogs, Amundsen!

i am my mother's daughter, and the lure of a bit of beachcombing was too much to resist. We went down to the jetty and pottered about, finding a lurid pink buoy for Mum and Dad's new boat ("Flo", as in "Go with the...") and other small things. We then went down to the flats at An Dunan, where the winter storms had washed up some fantastic driftwood - we limited ourselves to looking for attractive pieces, utility for burning waits for a later trip. One piece was so wonderful to look at that we had to have it for the garden, but it was too heavy and awkward for us to carry. Mum then found a good length of rope washed up on the rocks, so we made a harness and I dragged the log up the hill, carrying two long thin pieces (destined for quilt hangers) under my arm, with a twisted root bit sat on my hip. Mum dragged an Ikea bag full of other (equally heavy)bits. As I was dressed in a desert storm camouflage shirt (£2.50 at Land Rover show) I must have looked a bit like Burnham Wood coming to Dunsinane. Dad had hysterics as we trolled in through the bottom gate with our booty....

The Latest Journey (and Before)

James and Peter were up here on a Boys Own holiday the week before last. I could not come because I had to be available to see examiners and what not. We could not get a car place on the ferry, so they left the LR Disco on Jura, travelled as foot passengers and stayed the night in Glasgow with friends (planned to use hostel, but hostel booked them for the wrong night - when they arrived the place was heaving with a wedding party). Mega Thanks to Ros and Martyn for rescuing them from the A82, feeding and watering them, giving them beds AND taking them to Glasgow Central on the Sunday...

I collected them from Rugby station and took Peter straight back to school, where my car was broken into by varmints!!!!! ( Not from the school!!!!) Lost wallet and phone (all numbers, photos etc). They got away with precisely nothing really, since the phone and cards were immediately blocked, and there was only 20p in the wallet. The wallet had been a present from Mum and Dad, and the thought that it would just have been thrown away makes me SO MAD. Prayed hard for the stinkers. In Jura you could leave a car unlocked with the crown jewels on the back seat and they would still be there when you got back.

All this preamble leads to the fact that I travelled up here on Monday with Mum and Dad, and that we came by train from MK, with a cunning plan to catch the bus to Kennacraig, travel on the big and little ferries as foot passengers, pick up the Disco at Feolin and drive to the house. Ha! All went well as far as Crewe - first class seats, breakfast, free paper - where we were unceremoniously bunged from the train because of 'flooding at Warrington'. Five train loads of people were being put on buses. It was complete chaos, but the Virgin staff were helpful, calm and polite throughout. Fell off bus at Preston and caught next train north. (Incidentally, train was full of Punky Goths on the way to a music festival, they looked terrifying, but were letting others on the buses first and helped us with our luggage at the other end. Stars!) The upshot was that we missed our bus connection by 90 mins because we were so late. Virgin agreed to fund a taxi to Kennacraig, so we fair sped along the road, catching up with the bus just before the ferry port and being there in time after all. Much relief (except to Virgin with a £148 taxi bill) Good for them I say. I cannot fault their service - the thunder storms were hardly their fault. We finally got to the house at 9.30 pm as planned, drank hot chocolate (although I forgot the vast supply of marshmallows that we have here) and collapsed into bed.