Day 13- Reispol / Kilchoan / Ferry to Tobermoray

At Long Last a Visitors Centre

We had expected the ride across Moidart and the inland section of Ardnamurchan to be tough, and it didn’t disappoint. My prejudice against big hills was only confirmed: you hate the downhill flyers because you know soon there will be a long climb back up. By contrast, the coastal section from Salen to Camas Nan Geall barely rises above sea level but punishes with a series of short, steep hills. This stretch of coast is incredibly attractive and notably quiet, with sparse local and tourist traffic. It was a pleasant surprise to come across a large visitor’s centre, where we soon warmed up with some hot chocolate. The centre was overstaffed, with about four staff members for each visitor. It boasted a charming display of local paintings and the usual up-market tat. We were encouraged several times to purchase tickets for the 'audio/visual show' but couldn’t spare the time (or the fee). After an hour of drying off from the rain, we put on our wet gear and resumed our weary slog. The occasional showers forced us to seek shelter under large trees that flourished in this area—it was like traversing a rainforest. The unusual mix of very tall and straight conifers and huge beech trees, all draped in thick moss, was a sight to behold, though hard to fully appreciate while straining up an incline or gearing up for the next one.

The ride from the top of Ardnamurchan into Kilchoan was superb. Above the tree line, we found ourselves in bleak, mist-covered hills. Fortunately, the rain ceased. Despite the grey day, the view across the Sound to Mull (our next island) was exceptional. I would love to see it on a clear day. We only had a few minutes to wait for the ferry from Kilchoan, which was a shame because the area, with its ancient castles and large Victorian shooting lodges, deserved further exploration. The weather closed in as we crossed the Sound Of Mull, limiting visibility. We were the only foot passengers and stripped off in the passenger lounge to dry our wet clothes on the heaters, which were blasting. Soon, the windows steamed up, further obstructing our view.

Where are we - Tobermory or Oban ?

Upon landing at Tobermory, the sun emerged. We headed to the reception desk of Tobermory Youth Hostel, only to be told it was full. We picked up a substantial visitor guide from the Tourist Office and retreated to the Mishnish Hotel. This world-famous pub (in the sailing world) on Tobermory’s seafront lived up to its reputation. We sat in the main bar with a pint of '80 shilling' in front of a roaring log fire—summer in Scotland at its finest. I had no hesitation in taking off my wet shoes and socks and hanging them to dry on the grate. It was perfect bliss. Our next task was to find a place to sleep, so we spent a pleasant hour perusing the guide and drinking.

Brilliant B & B

Choosing a B&B in Tobermory initially came down to cost and twin beds. After several phone inquiries and rejections, desperation set in, leading us to call any B&B regardless of criteria (i.e., cost). One place, answered by someone with a clear Far Eastern accent, assured us there was a twin-bedded room available. I asked if they were on the seafront and received a 'yes.' I asked for the location, and the reply was 'overlooking the small traffic island at the end of the main street.' What I failed to ask was which main street and in which town! After scouring Tobermory’s main street without success, I approached the local postman. He informed me that the B&B was in Oban. In my panic to find a B&B, I had overlooked that we had moved to the next section of the book. Feeling like an idiot, I tried to joke about being on the wrong island on the wrong day, but it only confirmed the postman’s suspicions about ignorant tourists. He suggested a few places outside the main area of Tobermory, and we ended up with another Dutchman at the very top of Tobermory. Like all the B&Bs we had visited, this one fit the bill nicely. In the evening, we returned to the Mishnish and enjoyed a glorious meal, washed down with the now-compulsory single malt.