Loch Leven - Wild goose chase

One of the most beautiful natural events of the year is the autumn arrival of the over-wintering geese. I can think of few things as evocative of the wild as a sky full of skeins of geese filling the air with their trumpeting calls. I always try to get away to Montrose Basin or Loch Leven to savour the spectacle and this year it was a short overnight trip to Loch Leven. 

Having sat out heavy rain until late afternoon, my friend Graham and I walked the loch-side trail before climbing steeply through the birch trees of Vane Hill. The woods here were filled with robin song and droplets of rain hung from autumn berries. Eventually we cleared the trees and pulled up onto the top of the hill. It was chilly and breezy up here but would be our camp spot for the night.

Loch Leven stretched out below, dotted with wooded islands, and the craggy ridge of Benarty Hill stretched westwards behind us. Everything else was obscured by low cloud that cascaded over the flanks of Bishop Hill. Darkness was approaching as we pitched the tents and as we cooked supper, twinkling street lights below marked each of the villages around the loch. The distant voices of thousands of geese drifted up to our camp spot and sent us off to sleep.

Next morning before dawn, we picked our way back down through the woods by torchlight and settled ourselves by the loch-side to make coffee and eat breakfast before the morning take off by the geese.

Over the next couple of hours, huge flocks of geese rose one after the other looking like black clouds of giant insects. Straggly skeins of geese crossed the sky, their underwings catching the morning sun as it broke through the mist. And wave after wave of geese came over the hills to the north so that at times the sky in one direction was just full with geese. It was truly spectacular and deeply moving to be here this morning.

Eventually the activity dwindled and the sun began to gently warm the day. All was quiet and it was hard to believe the spectacle that we had just witnessed.

Fact File
The Loch Leven Heritage Trail and Vane Hill can be accessed by train from Lochgelly by walking to Ballingry and using the path that connects Ballingry to the RSPB centre at Vane Farm; or by bus to Kinross and using the trail to walk to Vane Farm. The RSPB centre has toilets, hides and a cafe with a panoramic window looking over the reserve. Between the RSPB centre and Kinross is a shelter on a rise that gives great views over the loch and surrounding hills.

Kinross-shire - Seasonal affective disorder

I'm sorry that the blog has been a bit sparse over the summer months but I have not been doing very much. You see, I have seasonal affective disorder or rather, I have REVERSE seasonal affective disorder since it's summer that makes me miserable! I can't bear the heat, the crowds, the midges and, this summer at least, the endless days of sunshine which drive me up the wall. But it looks like summer is finally on the wane and I've broken my duck with a wonderful mini cycle tour in Kinross-shire. 

My friend Graham and I set out cycling from Kinross, using the Loch Leven Heritage Trail to get started. We only stayed on it for a short while though before turning off onto a delightful, single track road that hugged the bottom of the Lomonds escarpment all the way to Strathmiglo. The Lomond Hills show their best side to the north with steep, sweeping flanks and sheer, rocky crags. I find them quite beautiful. It's something about the way they dominate their landscape and how their ramparts rise with such drama from the patchwork of fields around them. And there is something elemental about their relationship with the wild waters of Loch Leven.

A detour from our route at Strathmiglo to hunt for coffee paid dividends. The cycle route used a lovely traffic free bike path that meandered through woods, fields and finally tall, aromatic pines to emerge at the Pillars of Hercules organic farm and cafe, just outside Falkland. It was no hardship to repeat the route back to Strathmiglo, except perhaps for the climb that came as a surprise in an otherwise flat section. 

We were to spend the rest of the afternoon climbing as we cycled up through Abernethy Glen. At the top of the pass, we pulled off the road and onto the woodland trails of Pitmedden Forest. We were surprised how busy it was and I hadn't realised it's such a popular place for mountain bikers. But we had started the day late so by the time we had filtered water and cycled on into the forest, most folk were heading home for their tea and we pretty much had the place to ourselves.

We cycled east on a dirt track that hugged the spine of the hill, scouting as we went for potential camp spots. Eventually we found a lovely spot on the top of the ridge with open views all around. To the south, the twin peaks of the Lomond Hills rose above a rolling landscape of woods and farms. To the north, the River Tay retreated into the murky weather engulfing the Perthshire hills but to the west the Ochils were clear and we watched their silently rotating wind turbines. Down below we picked out the meandering waters of the River Earn and a train cutting across the fields that looked so tiny within this big view. 

The murky weather soon caught us too with light showers of rain that put us into our tents for the evening. But this was a fabulous camp spot nonetheless and it didn't disappoint the next morning either. Sunrise cast a purple glow over the Lomonds and illuminated the grasses and tree trunks of the forest so that they looked on fire.

When the dazzling display of the sunrise was over and breakfast eaten, we packed up our tents and had a lovely, early morning descent back along the forest track. It was that time of the day when the light is still soft and the rest of the world is not yet woken up. Back on the tarmac road and the steep descent to Glenfoot certainly woke us up. 

From Glenfoot we cycled on tiny, quiet roads that dovetailed with the motorway back to Kinross. A couple of tough climbs on these little roads took us by surprise before we reached the village of Glenfarg where the route levelled. The road from Glenfarg to Milnathort via Duncrievie and Netherton was sheer joy. There was barely any traffic and the road stayed high but flat affording big views, open skies and great cycling. Soon Loch Leven came into view again nestling below the steep flanks of Bishop Hill and the long ridge of Benarty.

Our road drifted gently down to Milnathort, passing under the motorway and entering the village through delightful narrow lanes. This was our final stop on this mini tour and a chance to indulge in coffee and cake which I'm sure is good for treating seasonal affective disorder.  

Fact File

Start/finish: Kinross
Public transport: Given the Sunday rail strikes we used my friend's car on this occasion. However, Kinross is served by Citylink and local buses plus this route could be done by train from Lochgelly from where it's a short cycle to join the Loch Leven Heritage Trail at Findatie or the RSPB centre.
My route: Joined Loch Leven Heritage Trail at Kinross and followed national cycle route number 1 to Strathmiglo and Falkland. Returned to Strathmiglo and cycled north from there through Abernethy Glen. You can cycle through Stocks Wynd off the main street in Strathmiglo to join the Abernethy Glen road without having to use the A91 or A912. Pitmedden Forest is signed at the top of the pass. Descended to Glenfoot and joined bike path heading west beside the A913. Where it meets a roundabout there are then cycle signs pointing the route to Glenfarg and onto Milnathort/Kinross using quiet, unclassified roads.
Info: Great coffee stop at the Pillars of Hercules which is on the cycle route into Falkland and also has a dedicated cyclist campsite. Also a good coffee stop and cyclist area at the back at Heaven Scent in Milnathort.

Perthshire - The Birks of Aberfeldy

This was a short overnighter in the hills wrapped around other events and bookended by the beautiful Birks. It started on a hot afternoon as we sweated our way up the lush, wooded gorge of the Birks, grateful to pause at waterfalls and interesting fungi.

From the Birks, we struck out across the bleak Urlar grouse moors. A smattering of trees in the lower reaches of the glen provided interest and a tin-roofed hut provided a back rest for a chocolate stop. 

Before too long we were hunting for a camp spot and a grass shelf by the river provided the only suitable place for miles to pitch our tents. In the evening the sound of light rain on nylon added to the gentle gurgle of the river. 

Next day our track climbed to meet the summer hill road between Amulree and Kenmore. Here swirling clouds were a backdrop to the photogenic hut on the loch shore.

From here, a series of interconnecting paths and tracks took us back to the Birks through woodlands, plantations and open pastures. 

It was wonderful on the way back to follow the river down the gorge and eventually pop out at the Watermill Cafe, since surely the main reason for doing hiking is to make space for cake at the end.

 

Fact File
Start/finish: Aberfeldy
Public transport: Buses from Dunkeld and Pitlochry connect to the Inverness train line.
My route: Followed the footpath signed the Birks of Aberfeldy from the village centre, sticking to the west side of the gorge. Where it met the bridge over the Falls of Moness, took the footpath that continued on the west side and met the Urlar Road. Followed this road uphill, detouring to the left around the farm at Urlar. After here it was dirt track which we followed to Amulree-Kenmore road and turned right downhill. At the first cottage a track leaves the road on the right. This is now the Rob Roy Way and we followed it back to Aberfeldy, this time coming back down the east side of the Birks gorge.

Atholl - Joy

Ben Vuirich, a hill to the northeast of Blair Atholl, is a very boring hill. A big, pudding-shaped dome clad in heather, it has no defining features. Its higher and shaplier neighbour to the north, Beinn a'Ghlo, is a much more appealing option. However, I can only describe my walk up Ben Vuirich as intense joy. Not only did I have the entire hill to myself but I enjoyed a wonderful atmosphere of little-visited remoteness, thanks to the long walk in, the lack of any path and the hill not reaching the magic height to be a Munro. As I mentioned in the last blog, I'm seeking solitude in the hills just now more than anything and Ben Vuirich delivered plenty.

That long walk in started at the train station in Blair Atholl with a big climb above the village on the hill road to Monzie. Where the road ended about 30 cars were parked but I suspected their occupants had all headed up Beinn a'Ghlo and saw nobody as I continued onwards towards Ben Vuirich, rising above the moor in the distance. The day was warm but in mid June not too hot. My route crossed fields picked over by curlews below a blue sky punctuated by skylarks. When it met the Allt Coire Lagain the boots and socks were off as I picked my way across the river. An easy crossing today but in spate it would be a different prospect.

Once on the other side, I started to ascend the lower flanks of Ben Vuirich by stringing together bits and pieces of sheep and deer trails, or by walking carefully through the heather, checking every step given this was peak nesting season. The map showed a sprawl of water in the upper reaches of the hill called Loch Valigan and I wondered what it would be like. It was well hidden on my ascent so I started to develop a real sense of anticipation for finding it. Eventually a wedge of sapphire blue appeared between hillocks and I pulled myself over the lip of the loch. What a stunning spot it was.

The loch had a wild feel to it. Its waters were the colour of the sky with brushstrokes of green and its backdrop was the sprawling ridge of Beinn a'Ghlo.  I was amazed by an old wooden rowing boat on the shore which somebody must have dragged up here long ago. A flock of black and white ducks (tufted or goldeneyes, too far to tell) was on the far shore while the near shore was patrolled by a noisy sandpiper. The piping of this little wading bird on a wild shore really encapsulates the summer hills. It's incredible to think they find bugs on a Scottish loch in summer but then pick them from between the teeth of crocodiles in Africa in winter. 

I skirted round the loch shore looking for a place to pitch the tent but was worried about disturbing the birds. So I headed up alongside the little stream that flowed into the loch and pitched the tent on an attractive bend. The stream then provided a handrail onto the ridge of Ben Vuirich. The hard work was done now so I could stroll easily to the top, albeit battling a fierce wind. Beinn a'Ghlo dominated the view but as I crouched behind the cairn to get out of the wind, I could make out the southern peaks of the Cairngorms and the deep cut of the Lairig Ghru. To the south, I looked over the little visited north side of Ben Vrackie above Pitlochry. It wasn't the most stunning view but I loved being up there in this wild and empty place.

I'd still two days of a long weekend so decided to keep walking on a long northerly route that would eventually take me back to Blair Atholl via Glen Tilt. After packing up the tent next morning, I walked off Ben Vuirich to the north over the ridge of Stac nam Bodach. Here the heather gave way to lush greenery which turned out to be a whole hillside of bearberry. Its delicate pink and white flowers danced in the breeze just a few inches off the ground. The name of this plant surely harks back to a time when bears roamed Scotland and I screwed up my eyes to try to imagine them rooting for berries in these hills.

A long trek north through Gleann Fearnach took me up onto empty moors. I spotted a ring ouzel, known as the mountain blackbird, and listened to its beautiful call which, to my ears at least, was a cross between a stonechat and a blackbird. Round the next bend I stopped in my tracks when the scree slopes of Carn an Righ suddenly came into view. These both added drama and a primeval wildness to the landscape. 

All around me everywhere was incredibly green, not just the bearberry but the fresh grass of the hillsides and the new leaves of the birch trees. The natural world was refreshing itself and I find that I'm likewise refreshed by being in nature at this time of year. This sense of renewal brought real joy to my walk.

Beyond the far reaches of Gleann Fearnach, I turned into Glen Tilt and spent another night out in the tent before an early morning walk down the valley. I love Glen Tilt with its magical mix of mountains, woods and river. There is always so much to see and today my eye was caught by birch trees lining a deep gully that were illuminated by the low-angled sun. More joy with which to finish my trip.

Fact File

Start/finish: Blair Atholl 

Public transport: Train from Edinburgh to Blair Atholl

My route: Walked out the back road to Monzie and at the road end took the track that heads northeast through a gate. Crossed the Allt Coire Lagain and ascended the ridge to the north of the Allt Loch Valigan. Skirted the south shore of Loch Valigan and ascened the flank of Ben Vuirich above the loch. Descended Stac nam Bodach and joined the path that runs to the cottage at Daldhu. Turned left when it met a track and walked north to Fealar Lodge. Took the path heading west from Fealar Lodge to the Falls of Tarf then walked down Glen Tilt to return to the start.

Rannoch - The inaccessible lochan

It’s strange the things that mark the passage of time in our lives. Often it’s watching the younger generations of our family grow or simply counting by the birthdays. For me, there are often poignant moments outdoors that make me stop with a start and take notice that life is marching on. I had such a moment recently. The photo below is me back in 2002, camping on the shores of Loch Ericht. The day after this photo was taken, I climbed two hills above the loch and as I climbed up onto the ridge of the first one, I came upon the most beautiful spot. A small lochan was cradled in the folds of the ridge which poked out into wild, empty country. The view was extensive and wide open with layer upon layer of mountains all around. It felt like the top of the world. But most of all, I noticed the flat grass around the shores of the lochan which was perfect for pitching the tent on. As I was passing in the morning, it was too early to camp but I vowed that I would come back one day soon and pitch the tent beside the lochan.

Inevitably a number of years passed without me making it back to the lochan. I’d been away travelling a lot and a camp spot perched at 800m in Scotland needs a good weather forecast with light winds which doesn’t come along very often. But the main reason is simply the inaccessibility of the lochan as there is no easy way to get there and it can only be approached via rough, pathless terrain. But nearly twenty years after my first visit, I finally made it back to camp at the lochan.

With a weather forecast of sunny skies and light winds, I set out from Corrour Station on the West Highland train line. The old track of the Road to the Isles took me a little way up the flank of Carn Dearg but I quickly peeled off to plod to the top through heather which pleasingly gave way to short, wind-clipped turf higher up. 

The top of Carn Dearg seemed to arrive without too much effort but after here there was now a path which made a huge descent before climbing steeply to the top of Sgor Gaibhre, my second hill of the day. I’d seen a few people on these hills but when I left the top of Sgor Gaibhre to make the long walk along it’s south ridge to the lochan, I saw not another soul. There was no path except a suggestion in places of where others might have walked so the ridge felt wild and empty. I enjoyed the solitude which is more important to me these days than bagging a summit. It was late afternoon by the time I set up the tent on that lovely grass on the shore of the lochan.

A beautiful evening followed with late sunshine playing across the flanks of Ben Alder which rose immediately in front of my camp. On the eastern horizon, the perfect, pointed cone of Schiehallion drew the eye. To the west a jumble of rocky peaks marked the Mamores and the Grey Corries with Ben Nevis dominating all of them. The thin call of golden plovers drifted across the lochan and when I wandered to the end of the ridge, I came upon a ptarmigan family with half a dozen fluffy chicks. It’s incredible to think that those little chicks are at the start of a life that will be spent in its entirety up here in the high mountains in all that the elements can throw at them. From the end of the ridge, I could see below to Loch Ericht and the place where I’d camped nearly twenty years earlier. I was looking a long way down and a long way back.

The sun sank beyond the Ben and in this month of the year, it was hardly any time before I was unzipping the tent to see it rise again to the east of Schiehallion. As it came up, the horizon blazed orange like the bar of an electric fire. A cold, silver moon still hung in the sky above the lochan which was flat calm. 

After breakfast and packing up my tent, there was no easy way back so I contoured round Sgor Gaibhre and climbed back over Carn Dearg. I walked out via its south ridge which is always a pleasing walk. The ridge is well defined and I enjoyed the big, airy views over the mountains that enclose Rannoch Moor below. All the way along the ridge, I could also see back to my camp spot and the silvery waters of the inaccessible lochan.

Fact File

Start: Corrour train station
Finish: Rannoch train station

Public transport: Glasgow-Fort William trains
My route: Walked south from Corrour on the track to Rannoch called the Road to the Isles. Just after Peter's Rock, climbed the north flank of Carn Dearg then walked to the summit. Followed the path northeast to the Mam Ban then up to Sgor Gaibhre. Walked along its south ridge. As above, returned to Carn Dearg and walked the length of its south ridge to descend to the Corrour- Rannoch track. Camped another night on this track beside the ruins of Old Corrour Lodge then walked into Rannoch.

Lismore - Bliss-more

The latter part of my May holiday was a bit of an island fest because after Kerrera, I decided to head to Lismore for a couple of days. I was really enjoying being at the coast and sucking in the revitalising sea air. There's also an incredible richness to islands where the different sights and sounds of land and water meet. It's pure bliss. My second island was larger than Kerrera and a longer ferry journey from Oban at just under an hour. Lismore is mostly low lying and quite flat which, along with its detached position in Loch Linnhe, affords wonderful views of mountains all around. This changes the character of the island to something much more wild and rugged. 

My mid afternoon ferry left Oban through a curtain of torrential rain which obscured the usually lovely views to Mull and the hills of Lochaber. Eventually Achnacroish, Lismore's ferry terminal, appeared through the gloom and the ferry docked. I walked up the road to the Lismore Bunkhouse which had been built on a renovated croft, now a wildlife haven. There are a few spots for tents but when I was offered a bunk room to myself with a view over the croft, I couldn't resist. The weather cleared later and from my room I could see north to Beinn a'Bheither and Ben Nevis. The couple who own the croft have planted over 7,000 trees here so the dawn and dusk bird song was beautiful. My evening entertainment was watching the rescue chickens who stomped haughtily around the croft pecking at the ground.

I spent the whole of the next day wandering on the island though barely covered any distance because there was so much to see and so many enticing bays. I started my walk by heading over to the west coast of the island at Sailean. I was fascinated by the former lime quarries here. 

Lismore is a rare outcrop of limestone which is unusual in the geology of the west coast of Scotland. So in the 19th century, Sailean was a major industrial site where the limestone was quarried, burned in limekilns and shipped out for use as agricultural lime and building mortar. Extensive ruins remain today, including the limekiln itself, as well as the pier which is still in use. It's such an idyllic spot set on a quiet bay with nature slowly reclaiming the ruins.

Walking on from Sailean, I joined the main road along the island which is all single track and very quiet. The verges were full with primroses and orchids. This is due to the rich, alkaline soils created by the limestone and is why Lismore is also known as the The Great Garden. 

Before too long, I found myself back at Achnacroish. If I had thought that heading to a quiet, west coast island was an escape from the ongoing pandemic, then I was wrong. There were reminders even here. The community hall had been turned into a vaccination centre and at the start of my next path, hand sanitiser had been attached to the fence post. 

My path passed in front of the pretty row of cottages at Achnacroish then headed up the east coast through fields and woods. I was aiming for Tirefour Broch which dominated the horizon ahead.

The broch dates from the late Iron Age and was built about 2000 years ago. The structure would have originally been five metres high and the walls three metres thick. It's believed it was inhabited until the Middle Ages. Among the finds in the broch are a decorative pin from the 8th century and Norse pins and rivets from the 11th or 12th centuries. What is most obvious about the broch is its commanding position above the sea and the east coast of the island. This made it a stunning place to sit a while, with panoramic views all round and an alarming drop to the sea.

It's thought that the broch fell into disuse when the seat of power shifted to the Clan MacDougall castles on the west coast of the island. I headed to one of them next.

A meandering farm road took me back to the main island road and I walked a little way south. Before too long, I passed the pretty parish church whose graveyard was awash with primroses and bluebells.

Just after here, I turned onto a rough farm track and descended steeply to the coast at an idyllic bay. Here were the ruins of Castle Coeffin.

The castle was built in the 13th century but it's thought the site was in use for much longer with an Iron Age fort located close by. Local tradition has always associated the castle with a legendary Norse prince called Caifean. The ghost of his sister Beothail was said to haunt the castle until he freed her by taking her bones back to Norway. At low tide, the sheltered bay below the castle reveals a medieval fish trap and boat haul out. It was yet another blissful spot to sit a while with views over a rocky coastline to the hills of Morvern. 

From the castle, it was a few kilometres of walking under a hot sun to return to the bunkhouse via the island museum and cafe, and its little shop. I was lucky that the weather held for my return ferry journey the next morning and I could enjoy the views from the deck that I'd missed on the way out.

Fact File

Start/Finish: Achnacroish

Public transport: Oban is served by regular buses and trains, and there are several ferries per day from Oban to Lismore.

My walking route: From the ferry walked up the road to the main island road then turned right. Less than a kilometre from this junction a road leads to the left between two cottages. The bunkhouse is a little way along this road. The road swings right, turns into dirt track and drops down to the coast where the limekilns can be seen.  Followed this track passed the bay at An Sailean to the left of the cottage and up the hill to join a tarmac road. Turned left then left again on the main island road and returned to Achnacroish. A track then path heads in front of the cottages towards the broch. Where it meets tarmac, turned left up the road but then left it quickly on a track to the right after the cottages which quickly swung left. I crossed the field to pass ruins then I walked over the rocky knoll above the ruins. Crossed the dyke/fence and an obvious path continued to the broch. Descended from the broch to the tarmac road to the west, followed it to the main island road then turned left. After the church, a track leaves to the left of a white farmhouse. Followed this to Castle Coeffin then retraced my steps to the main island road and returned to the bunkhouse, visiting the excellent museum and cafe. 

Kerrera - Small but perfectly formed

If you've ever taken the ferry from Oban to Mull, you might recall it leaving the harbour by skirting a peninsula of land on the left (or should I say port) side. This bit of land is actually the very top of the island of Kerrera which sits close to the mainland just south of Oban. Despite being only 7km long and just 2km wide, Kerrera boasts a rugged coastline, wild beaches and a ruined castle. So you could say it's small but perfectly formed!  Despite this, I'd not been before but finally made the hop over when I was near Oban on holiday. 

When I say "hop over" I really do mean that. The Sound of Kerrera is only 500m wide and the crossing is made in the smallest Calmac ferry I have ever seen. It was quite a contrast to the huge, sleek ferries that I'd just been watching in Oban that serve Mull and the further away islands. But this little ferry is a key link for the island community as there is no shop or school on Kerrera. So when the first ferry of the day from the island pulled in, it deposited a large rabble of school children. 

Once on the other side, I set out to walk a loop of the island. The tarmac road at the ferry slipway quickly gave way to dirt track which was lined with colourful wild flowers. So many flowers seemed to be in bloom all at once that I wondered if the very cold spring had delayed some of them.

I quickly reached the broad sweep of Horseshoe Bay. It was here that King Alexander II died on 8 July 1249. He was poised with a large fleet in Oban Bay to try to retake Western Scotland from the Norwegians when he fell ill. Just beyond here, and backed by a pretty row of whitewashed cottages, is another bay called Little Horseshoe. It also has an interesting snippet of history attached to it as it was host to a milestone in electrical engineering. In September 1956, Little Horseshoe Bay became the eastern terminus of the world's first submarine, transatlantic telephone cable. The other end of the string stretched to Newfoundland! 

As I continued my walk down the island, a short rise then descent, put me on Kerrera's south coast at a breathtaking spot with a rugged, rocky coastline and a pebble beach washed by incoming waves. Sitting on top of the rocks with a commanding view out to sea, was the ruin of Gylen Castle.

The castle was built around 1582 by Duncan MacDougall of Dunollie to control the trade through the Sound of Kerrera. In the sixteenth century it was one of the busiest shipping lanes in the region, offering easy access to the islands of the Inner Hebrides. The castle was originally a four storey tower with a small courtyard occupying the edge of the cliff.  Although primarily built for defence, Gylen Castle also served as a status symbol and craftsmen were employed to create the Oriel window, much of which is intact today. The MacDougalls still owned the castle when the Wars of Three Kingdoms broke out in the mid-seventeenth century. The clan were supporters of the Royalist cause and in 1647 a detachment of Covenanters besieged the castle. The clansmen eventually surrendered and Gylen was sacked and burnt. It has remained a ruin ever since.

It was wonderful to linger here, taking in the history and natural beauty of the spot, but eventually I continued on my walk, rounding the south of the island and making my way up the west coast. The views from here to the hills of Morvern and Mull were stunning. I was envious of the people who lived in the isolated cottage at Barnabuck which sat in its own wooded bay on the coast with a view over all of this. I was less envious of them as I faced the steep climb from the cottage up and over the spine of the island. 

This track took me back to the ferry slipway via Kerrera's main community at Balliemore. I was grateful I had some change for the honesty box at the craft hut here so I could have ice cream and a cold drink before the ferry back to the mainland. My walk had only been about 4 hours but there was so much variety and beauty packed into this small island.  

Fact File

Photos on FLICKR

Start/finish: Ferry slipway, Kerrera

Public transport: A local bus from Oban connects to some of the ferry times but it's less than 3km to walk there from the centre of town. A nice way to do the walk is over Pulpit Hill in Oban. Walk down from Pulpit Hill along Pulpit Drive and a little way along a footpath to the ferry is signed. It passes through a lovely wooded landscape above the coast.

My route: Turned left off the ferry and followed this main track south to the house at Lower Gylen, ignoring any side tracks on the way. From Lower Gylen, a grassy path heads down to the castle. Returned to the main track and continued west to the house at Ardmore. Here a path ascends to the left of the house and continues north to Barnabuck. Skirt to the front of the house then the track climbs steeply above the cottage and returns to the east coast of the island at the ferry slipway.