Keep On Truckin'

Driving on the left side of the road does get easier with time. But it was one thing zipping along on UK motorways at 60-70 mph, and quite another crawling along the euphemistically called “Single Track Roads” in rural areas. They’re a bit hard to describe. Yes, they do consist of a single lane, but not a “One Way Only” single lane. When you spy a car approaching from the opposite direction, you look for one of the passing pullouts, short widened stretches every so many hundreds of yards. These pullouts are just, and I mean JUST, wide enough for two smallish vehicles to co-exist side by side. The idea is that you pull over and wait for the other vehicle to pass. Pretty much everyone understands the drill and it works. It did get a bit stickier in remote parts of Mull where these single-track roads became extremely narrow. Through these stretches I was averaging 5 mph. I think it is probably a measure of Scottish humor that we found ourselves crawling along at this 5mph and came upon a village that posted a 30 mph speed limit sign at the edge of town.

Tobermory on the east side of Mull was every bit as scenic and we anticipated. The colorful shops along the waterfront were more vivid than photographs can capture. Jane and I were a bit concerned about the blatant drug abuse there, as attested to by the sign for MacGochan’s Bar advertising “good crack.” I was also intrigued by what kind of community was peopled by anyone who might “need a painting in an emergency”, and that in this tiny village there was a shop that could respond to such emergencies.

A delight of bed & breakfast touring is meeting strangers from all over. At Bunessan [the tune for “Morning Has Broken” is called Bunessan and was either written there or by someone from there or someone inspired by there – I’ll have to look that up when I get a chance, but in the hymnal I bought here in Iona it gives the tune name Bunessan to “Morning Has Broken.”] we had delightful conversations with a couple from France and a couple from Australia. Can you tell from the pictures of Jane with each couple which country each couple came from?

I took child-like delight in seeing a sign for a village called Pottie. All I could think of the fun we would have had with such a place name as children. Hey, we didn’t do too badly with it as adults: “Oh, you seem to have an accent now, don’t ye? Where ye be from?” “Aye, I’m from Pottie. Our accent is called ‘Pottie Mouth’”.

On the ferry to Iona Jesus was quite helpful, and pointed out the Abbey to us from mid-trip. There is also a picture of the view from the window in our room. Incredibly, we have had bright, sunny skies and balmy [for Scotland 68 degrees is balmy in July] weather. The people we have met here are warm, thoughtful, caring, diverse. Conversation is virtually non-stop. One of the things I love most about this life is that there are no locks on the doors – since we left our hired car in Fionnphort, I am living a key-less existence.