Friday 15th June
165 Miles
1283
Total
There were a few sore heads around the breakfast table
this morning. It was not surprising after seeing all the empty and half empty
bottles scattered around the dorm room. I was awake most of the night listening
to the sound of the fire alarm fault buzzer beeping every five seconds.
Earplugs didn’t help, as the beep was at a frequency that seemed to drill right
into my skull……every five seconds! Still
it distracted me for the normal farting, belching, and snoring that usually
accompanied me during the moonlit hours.
We had been asked if we required breakfast by the
staff after our meal last night. We wanted an earlyish start if possible. So,
at 7:30 we were all tucking in to bacon rolls, orange juice, and copious
amounts of fresh tea and coffee.
The reason for our early start was that we wanted to
catch one of the first ferries over to the Isle of Mull, so that we had a full
day to explore. Discussing the route to Lochaline with the staff during
breakfast, it was decided that we needed to allow an hour to cover the twenty
mile journey. It should take about half
an hour. But, if you met ferry traffic coming the other way on the narrow road
it could take considerably longer.
We set off just after 8:30. Our ferry was due to
depart at 9:40. The ride over to Lochaline on the A884 was a nice steady
affair. I set off after Mark. Mark, knowing we would be riding at slower speeds
on Mull, had chosen to bring his Honda CRF250L. I couldn’t believe it yesterday
when he said he had ridden all the way from the Cumbrian coast on his little
250. Yet, here he was leading me on my 160BHP tyre shredding hyper touring
beast with consummate ease.
The A884 to Lochaline had been recently surface
dressed. There were patches of gravel swept by the four wheeled traffic waiting
to catch us out on some of the corners. I had one or two squeaky bum moments
when my tyres caught a soft patch of gravel and momentarily lost traction. But,
I soon switched on to how best to negotiate the single track road as it weaved
its way across the mountainous Glens.
We encountered a bit of local traffic on the way to
catch the ferry. It seemed to be mums taking their kids to school, and a few
tipper lorries working on the roads. One group of about ten cars, which we
assumed was a full ferry load, was very happy to see us all. We got cheery
waves from each of the cars as we patiently waited in a passing place for them
to get by.
As we reached Lochaline a large tractor was struggling
to pull its load up the hill out of the village. It was dripping a trail of
diesel on to the road as it chugged along in a low gear. The diesel leak
quickly spread itself out across the damp road surface turning it into an oily
rainbow. Luckily there was not enough diesel to ruin our fun, and we soon
arrived at the ferry terminal just a few hundred metres away.
We were twenty minutes early for the ferry. So we chatted
in the sun, and enjoyed the peaceful surroundings. At 9:40 the ferry arrived at
the slip way. After it had deposited its passengers and cars from Mull we were
waved aboard. We were informed it was a twenty minute crossing by the very
pleasant young lady ticket collector, as she sorted out our fares. Right on
schedule the ferry docked at Fishnish on the Isle of Mull. We were waved off
first, free to explore the isle as light rain began to fall.
There are not a vast amount of roads on the Isle of
Mull. There is the main A849 which runs from Tobermory down the east coast, and
then across to Fionnphort on the south western tip of the isle. Then there is
the smaller B8035 and B8073 which run up the west coast and back across to
Tobermory. Other than a couple of unclassified roads this is the circular route
we would be taking today.
From Fishnish we headed south to Craignure. There was
a shop with a couple of fuel pumps next door. The plan was to fuel up here.
That would then get us round the island and also the 40 miles to Tyndrum on our
way home tomorrow. That was unless you were Mark on a 250 with a 7.7 litre fuel
tank!
The fuel was a serviced pump. Jim wandered into the
shop to ask for assistance. Soon we were joined by the lovely shop assistant
who would fill up our tanks. She unlocked the unleaded pump, but insisted we
filled our bikes as she didn’t want to damage anything.
The rain was now quite steady and the midges were out
in force. Our lady friend was covered in midge repellent so she wasn’t bothered
by them. We had a laugh together when I suggested that I should huddle close to
her to stay protected. She said I was just like the midges….only interested in
her body!
With the clan fueled up it was time to explore. Our
first port of call was Fionnphort, the westernmost point on the isle. The road
was mostly single track with the very occasional section where it went to two
lanes. The road started out hugging the coast before turning inland across Glen
More.
Robbie managed to upset a couple of old ladies who
were catching up on the morning chat. Yes, they were blocking the road while
doing so, but they didn’t seem too impressed by Robbie giving them a blast of
his super-loud horn.
The scenery across Glen More was beautiful. The rain
had stopped and everything looked fresh and green with its fresh coat of dew.
We were taking our time and soaking up the views. Low cloud hanging over the
very peeks of the mountains hinted at further rain showers. But, they held off.
And, as we neared the coast again at Loch Scridain blue sky appeared for the
first time.
Robbie was keen to make friends again. This time a
couple in a SUV pulling a caravan received the full horn treatment. But, they
were not keen to yield their position. Robbie danced in their mirrors flashing
his lights and beeping his horn for the best part of a mile. Then a car coming
in the opposite direction forced the caravan driver to pull into a passing
place. He then failed to see Robbie attempting to overtake thinking he would be
allowed to pass. The caravan did eventually spot him, and stopped where it was
to allow us all to pass before carrying on with their journey.
But, the clan had a new member tagging along.
Obviously from the Robbie school of driving, a white van man was flashing his
lights and beeping his horn at the back of our train of bikes. Picking us off
one by one, it was clear he was in a hurry. As he came up behind me with his
right indicator flashing, I pulled out of the way at the first passing place
joined by Jim and Colin. I was not sure if any of the wheels were in contact
with the road as the van blasted past seeking out its next victim.
At the end of the Loch was the tiny village of
Bunessan. It was like a tiny Tobermory with brightly painted cottages hugging
the roadside. Outside the village shop, white van man was unloading his cargo
of fresh produce. Scrambled eggs and milkshakes, anyone?
We rolled into Fionnphort and parked up outside the
small village shop. There was a huge amount of parking spaces along the harbor
wall. Here tourists catch the ferry over to Iona to visit the abbey and
nunnery. It is not possible to take vehicles across without special permission.
Hence the need for all the parking.
We stopped here for a leg stretch. A few of the others
walked down to the ferry dock, while I enjoyed an ice cream from the shop and
took a few photos.
The light rain started to fall again. And, with a few tourist coaches arriving signaling a ferry was due; we took that as our opportunity to leave.
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