Mulling It Over

We have as of yet not reached a unanimous agreement as to whom exactly initiated the idea of spending our summer in the Scottish isles. Largely because neither of us wish to lay blame for this barmy, yet intriguingly exciting adventure. I guess the first memory was signing our declaration back in February, and then receiving our assignment to Oban congregation, in Argyll Scotland, who in turn have sent us to the Isle of Mull, yes it would appear that even they did not want to be too close to our company for the week and a half we are to be there!

So what and where is Mull, well don't as everyone does get confused with Paul McCartney's well-known hit, Mull of Kintyre, because that has absolutely nothing to do with the Isle of Mull! Mull is simply a Gaelic (pronounced gah-lik not gay-lik in scotland!) word believed to originally have meant either praise or beloved, and thus is found in many place names in the country. So, the beloved island, sounds enchanting enough! Well one thing is for sure the pictures of it seem to back the name up, it lies just of the Scottish mainland near Oban to the north west of Glasgow and has an area of 337 square miles, roughly the size of the county 'West Midlands' but a population less than that of the village of Alrewas, near our home town Lichfield!

One notable claim of fame for the island is that its capital (for want of a better term) tobermory, is the home of the well regarded children's cartoon balamory. We will just have to wait and see if the reality of our trip is as mirthful and light hearted as a early afternoon cbbc programme. To be honest though I feel that if they ever did make a programme of our trip it would have to wait a good few hours after balamory to be aired!

Mar sin leibh an dràsda (ta ta for now), Eden Pearson, at home Sunday 15. August 2010

There is something quite exotic and perhaps even existing about going to sleep aware that at some hour known only for the shipping forecast, you are going to awake to the sensation of a hot shower, and the smell of cups and cups of coffee. And then it happens, and something which scientists say is closely connected to adrenalin keeps you going until the sound of rumbling in the distance ruins the light radiating from the morning star, the sweet melody of an orchestra of birds and crickets, and yes it is Jeff, a great remedy for a sleepy eye if ever there was one!

A few albums later, and we are off the A1 and pull into Thirsk, a little market town in North Yorkshire. The market, was awake, but sadly not the cafe's, so our full English breakfast turned into mere continental from the Co-Op. We sat admiring the morning ambience and then it was back into the car towards Berwick-Upon-Tweed, perhaps they may have something to offer for the ever hungry traveller, I mean after all who was it that said that a real traveller never turns down a meal?

Berwick, as the photo's show, is a lovely border town, you can certainly understand why the SNP are actively seeking to win back the city into the blue side of the border. The cities walls, make Chester or York seem dour an in need of a little turfing! I mean what other city can bost a golf course on its parameter?

We soon found ourselves in a bustling little cafe, with bright orange walls and strong Geordie accents. A pot of tea each that could serve half an invading Scottish army, and of course some cake and off again! A little treat on the way though was a sign neatly translated into Norsk! It turned out just to be the town hall, or rådhuset, but it certainly makes the Scandinavians amongst us feel at home!

So...Edinburgh alas, only 20 minutes later than planned and straight to Waitrose. Jeff felt a trolley might be tempting trouble, but hay the day had a certain holiday feel and logic is thus restrained to care freeness! Im just glad most saturdays are confined to waitrose back home, because the £155 price tag was reduced through the privilege of my little orange discount card to a mere £1xx...After we shopped for the populous of Mull, we had merely half an hour before our scheduled departure, so the botanical gardens will sadly have to wait; but we still managed to meet up with an old friend, Salvatore Tomaniso, an elder ex of Edinburgh Waverley congregation but now serving in the Spanish group in Edinburgh and Glasgow. He used his usual Italian charm to pick our spirits up for the next leg of the journey, north again towards mull!

DISASTER! Traffic hits us near Falkirk, and we are delayed by at least 15-20 minutes, and with highland roads ahead, we are up against it! Then the rain sets in, and the beautiful scenery of the south western highlands turns into a dramatic, fear-inspiring world unique to this part of the Scotland. A couple of hours later, quite breath-taken by the scenery, we arrive at the Corran ferry, a elequent little vessel capable of but a few cars, and of course some highland cattle. Once across though you are in the thick of the highlands, a road that which bends and turns like a spiders web, with enough blind summits to explain why Scotland produces so many rally drivers; and then...BRAKES! No, its not a car, there is non of them about, but simply another cow stubbornly stood in our way, fortunately however it was parallel to a passing place, or whole in the heather covered road sides if the truth be known, so we managed to continue forth!

Finally we arrive at the ferry terminal, a real highland scene once again, a small club full of the the half dozen locals who inhabit this part of the world, watching with a puff of a cigarette the ferries come and go, at which appears to be at a timetable written by the deckhand of the ship who spent the first five minutes of the scheduled departure organising his evening plans on his mobile and then finally we were able to hassle him into boarding!

So alas we were in Mull, our home for the next 10 days, and how beautiful it is! But more of that during the week. And I feel I have used up enough my evening writing this blog, and now I need to return to my cheese and wine and sigur ros DVD! Could life be any better?

P.S. a thought and probably several prayers must be for harry this evening, we have be unable to get in touch with him all day! But as I write he should be setting up tent somewhere on the mainland, we hope to see him in the morning at the ferry port...watch this space!!

Another night sleep rudely interupted by a subconcious urge to listen to the shipping forecast, we were both wide awake at quarter past five, and it immediately became apparent that this was a perfect opportunity to get Jeff back in the kitchen and prepare a full english or shall I say scottish breakfast! Jeff duely ablidged and set us both up for the day as we spent the early hours preparing our Watchtower Study.
Today, we were to cross back over to the mainland, mainly to get to the meeting and befriend the locals, but also to check if Harry, who at this point was still untracked, had made it north of the pennines! Our ferry departed the island at half past eight and so we had ample time to treck down to the port, pay our £7 due and board the ferry. At this point a need for coffee was beginning to set in, but it was once we joined the cafe queue that it became evident that we were going to get more than we bargained for, yes another scottish breakfast!
So we were once more set up for the day, and then as if by miracle came out of the distance a familiar face complemented more than ever by an intact bike helmet, had the early morning rise caused us to hallucainate? Amanzingly not, harry was alive and what more raring to bike another 3 miles to the kingdom hall. Well, it soon transpired he had the better deal because our five minute taxi ride did set us back £15 for a return!
What a lovely congregation though, only 40 odd publishers but a spirit that lifted us more than any number of cooked breakfasts! A mix of scots, german and even brummy accents, no not our own adulterated lichfodian version but a family from stetchford who had just come back from Tiree, patterning our expedition, they even being able to hold their own meeting and handing out handbills to the island folk inviting them, now there is an idea!!
After the meeting and association it was time to return to the town for lunch, chips seemed inevitable at the sea-side and before long we stumbled across a chippy claiming to be Rick Stein's favourite ever! Well either the mans taste is not upto his cooking ability or the owner's brother-in-law just happens to be his namesake! Well, perhaps I'm being overly harsh, allowing for poetic license and all that, but I can think of better!
By the time we succesfully fought off a flock of seagulls we were ready to make our way to the ferry terminal, harry had now caught up and even been to rick stein's home from home himself. The ferry journey begun in the bar, with harry having a few to many earl grays (see video) which led to a few rod stewart impersonations! Well hay, we were finally all together heading to mull to begin our holiday/work for real, it was a time to be joyous and to celebrate harry's safe arrival!
After an eventful crossing, we left harry to his last ten miles from port to home and two hours and the rest later he is relaxing in the bath listening intensely to the drama that is the bulgarian premier league whilst I peruse a match, much less dramatic, from norway! Jeff meanwhile is preparing a Thai Green Curry toned down so harry doesnt keep us awake all night!
Bon Nuit!
P.S. At time of reading some video's should be on-line but please excuse the small freeware advert in the middle, this will be remedied once Dr. Van Cook is back in his happy little place, a.k.a his lab!!

If synchronised snoring was an olympic event jeff and harry would be top of the world! Even in different rooms, the synchronisity of ahhhh ooooo was pefectly aligned! After a few minutes of contemplating sleeping outside, I was actually beginning to get into this new sport, it could be the next big thing!
Few hours later all was quiet, evidence enough that it was dawn and time to make a brew. Today is our first day on the ministry up here, Jeff an I were to hit the backroads or tracks to be accurate, and Harry was to cycle northbound heading for Tobermory. The first road we took was from Salen to Dervaig, a dramtic road through forests and valleys littered with ex farming communities and the odd guest house. There were plenty of sheep without shepherds up here, but sadly they were all to quick to scarper at the sight of us! After a while, the sheep found somewhere more interesting and civiliation returned, not that these more human sheep seemed any more talkative at this point, so we resigned to a pub with fantastic views over the sorrounding valleys. Jeff had a large beef and pineapple burger, must be some kind of delicasy, but I will save you any more detail as it appears readers are beginning to catch on to our constant fuel stops! Well I had foolishly promised to cook haggis for dinner, so it was best to make the most of decent food when we could!
After lunch we headed on the coastal road towards Tobermory, with fantastic winding roads and a definite increase in houses, and with that some enjoyable discussions with the locals. One lady, a true scots lass if ever the was one, was more than happy to share her love of the bible with us, a regular wee free (free church of scotland) but keen to take a tract and teach book. She was slightly rushed as her son was about to pick up and take her to the west coast for a picnic, which seemed a wonderful idea on such a lovely afternoon. The car read only 14C but the sun was strong enough to keep our jackets off, and the skies blues enough to see right out to see as far as the eye could see. We were even treated to a large spanned sea eagle cross above our heads.
As the afternoon progressed our last port of call was the road down to glenorm castle, a long descent from where we were with incredible views. We soon met a man from Lincolnshire who had moved up here to get away from it all, you can certainly see his logic! Not much interest in the bible but happy to chat, well i guess out here conversations are reserved soley to a quick 'mornin' to the post man, and no doubt we were a welcomed change as we bring only good news and not bills!
We arrived back late afternoon to a harry style organised apartment who bless stayed in until early afternoon doing the housework! We even have an iron now! So, it was time to get back into the kitchen and prepare the haggis neeps and taties, whilst Jeff had to keep running back and forth to the Spar shop to get the necessary ingredients, such a suede that chef thought was a parsnip! Even with a certain lack of food education the critics were mediocrely impressed, well I did have an advantage that neither Jeff or Harry had ever had haggis before, so I guess they have nothing to compare it with!
Evening quickly fell and tiredness from a busy few days is beginning to set in amongst the senior members, so I decided to take a quick jog down to the sea front, which is a view to be savoured. But now back I think I easily the most exhausted so an early night is no doubt on the cards. As a result Im afraid the video will have to wait until tomorrow, the editing team have gone on the strike!

There was still a spot of sleep in our eyes at 10am this morning, well being the last day of the month we unamiously agreed that it was excusable to take things a little easy! So after I nearly caused the great fire of Salen with a bacon sandwhich, we all got down to some quietish perusal of the deeping things in life followed by a quiet morning taken up largely by strolling down to the harbour front and taking in the overpowing smell radiating from the local fishmonger, which romour has will be dinner later in the week!

After fishfinger sandwhichs for lunch we got into our trunks and went searching for a beach! How hard could that be on an island? Well it is the Scottish Isles, and it appears that there is no word for sand in Gaelic! After nearly an hour of wonderful rocky beaches, we settled to a rocky beach in the south of the island, and with the tide out Jeff and I finally reached the sea with numerous cuts in the souls of our feet! It took some effort to convince Jeff but before long we were both up to our necks in the atlantic ocean! Perhaps we are stupid but after the nerve endings through our body became completely numb we were actually beginning to enjoy ourself! Harry remained pensive on the shore, recording dialogs on his voice recorder of our peril as if to replay to the townsfolk at some little memorial in the coming days!

After what felt like an eternity we emerged like medieval sea monsters feeling much better for ourselves! Harry was yet to be convinced but he does promise to dip at least his big pinky when we next go! We took the long road back through the mountains and forests with radio gaelic being a very appropriate backdrop to the trip (see video!)

So after a warm bath each we are now preparing to be wined and dined by harry, it has quite definitely been a day of huge risks, but perhaps one of great reward as well? Only time will tell!

Stop Press: Harry excelled in his sausages, with almost perfect cooking skills shown throughout, well done Harry!!