Scotland has this stereotype of perpetual drizzle, impenetrable cloud cover and castle remains whose graying foundation has been replaced by centuries of slow-creeping moss. Sounds depressing doesn’t it? Single malt scotch was created solely to lift the country’s rampant diagnosis of seasonal affective disorder… and in fact, any disorder. Kidding.
Personally, I find these things part of Scotland’s charm, however, my recent trip to the land of haggis and kilts had me venturing to a small island only 3.4 square miles in size, where the weather and scenery shattered every conventional image one might have of Scottish weather.The Isle of Iona is part of a chain of islands off the West coast of Scotland known as the Inner Hebrides… and it’s a bitch to get to. And by bitch I mean forcing myself up from my whisky-induced coma at 6am for the first of 2 ferries… oh and a bus ride.
The first ferry departed from Oban, a quintessential hilly seaside town scented with crisp ocean air and fresh seafood, and arrived 45 minutes later at the nearby Isle of Mull. We were then shuttled an hour and a half by coach bus around the perimeter of Mull on a one lane road over narrow stone bridges that in your mind could barely support the weight of one person after a large Sunday brunch let alone a 12-ton vehicle. We took the last and final ferry to the isle. One-way travel time was roughly 3 and a half hours.
With approximately 100 permanent residents, Iona is refreshingly isolated compared to the streets of NYC, and with air quality capable of curing moderate emphysema, my lungs were in heaven. There is one main road speckled with a few bed and breakfasts, gardens, a few intimidating but friendly cows and historical ruins (including a very famous Abbey.) As I advanced North ,the road ended and there in front of me was a small wooden fence door with a dirt path trailing behind it in the distance. I didn’t hesistate to open it and follow.
Dirt eventually turned into a lush green hill, and it was atop this mini peak I caught a glimpse of swirls of turquoise. As I ran towards shore I saw what made the multi-vessel journey to Iona all worth while; a pristine, untouched beach of crystal clear water, and sand so powdery and white I didn’t know whether to sprinkle it on a donut, snort it, or lay in it… as the worries of the world seemed to vanish.
Zoom in on this map to see exactly where I was standing!
