Day 5 - Port Askaig / Ferry to Oban

Its Cold Porridge!

Back, again at dockside of Port Askaig, in the drizzle, for the 8 am ferry, unfed and unwashed. Both hungry and looking forward to our breakfast, or at least I was until Chris produced from his bag a green thermal mug - full of cold porridge, remember the porridge? New Lanark? Yes, the very same.

Now I am neither a food snob nor a fussy eater (anything but). However, it was quite a sight watching Chris tucking into this grey congealed mess. The porridge was the colour of the sky currently hanging over the Sound Of Jura. How could he do it? I might add my hunger pangs were such that disgust went out the window, and it was one of sheer admiration. The ferry carrying my breakfast did make its way slowly up the Sound, absolutely on time. It was one of the bigger ferries and it dominated Port Askaig. It left bang on time as well. We did spend a little time on deck to admire the views but were soon driven into the cafeteria for a full Scottish breakfast, even now, writing this months later I can tell you it was brilliant, a symphony of animal meats, majestic proportions, a complete picture of culinary delights, unpretentious, fulfilling, etc. CalMac breakfasts are the best! I was able to introduce Chris to that rare Scottish delicacy, the square sausage!

Paps, Pap. Pap of Jura.

The run to Oban would have been quite superb if only the weather improved. The ferry stopped at Colonsay, which looked bleak and windswept. There is a lot to see as it glides past the Isle of Jura and the Sound of Kerrera. The Chinese Olympics were coming live over the screen in the lounge, and it was quite a memorable moment when Chris Hoy took the gold medal. The Scots on the boat could not believe it. There was quite a cheer that went up when he easily took the gold. Too soon, we took a sharp right-turn into Oban harbour even that had its appealing moment, Oban doesn’t live up to any particular high standard. Unfortunately, we saw most of it from within the upper deck lounge as the rain-drops ran down the windows.

So far today, we had cycled about half a mile and we were just about to double that distance. As we loaded up the bikes and pedalled off, like the seasoned explorers we were, for another half mile. The Youth Hostel on the seafront is a magnificent Victorian house. It was full, but having pre-booked it took a lot of the stress away. I was given a bed in the old part of the house with a superb view over the harbour. Chris was in the back extension; the view to him didn’t matter because he spent most the time repacking yet again. Needless to say, it was raining, which added to the dismal feeling I always get when in Oban. It was at Oban that our journey really was to begin. The 7am ferry tomorrow was to take us to the Outer Hebrides.

Slimming Down

Over the last few days, I had become aware that there was in my panniers a large amount of luggage that was surplus to requirements, books, bike covers etc. They all added to the weight and volume being carried needlessly, so I went down to the Post Office and bought a large self-sealing bag. The amazing thing was I filled it! Despite months of thoughtful consideration as to what I was going to bring on this tour. I sent back to Edinburgh 5 kgs of unwanted goods and chattels.

A Nice Quiet Evening In!

We decided to have DIY-cooked meal at the hostel rather than eat out, so on the way back from the Post Office we hunted for a meal at the local Tesco’s. On our return, we agreed to meet in the kitchen for 6pm. Off Chris went to repack and search for his cutlery.
I sat in the lounge and watched a re-run of the Olympics. . . . did I mention a cycling Scot won a gold medal today? Anyway, 6 pm came and went and there was no sign of Chris. I started cooking the tuna pasta, all cycling explorers eat this sort of food. . . so I am told, so why not us?
Everything then went a bit strange, Chris eventually appeared looking very grey and subdued. I opened the wine, and we sat down to an enormous plateful of pasta. Chris took one spoonful and said,
'Sorry I can’t eat it, I have toothache. I am going to bed.'
And off he trotted, leaving me jaw dropping, perplexed and worried. I just assumed that was the end of the tour (for him anyway). He was clearly not well. I finished my tea on my own and polished off the bottle of wine.
I had made the decision that I was going on this ferry tomorrow. If Chris wasn’t there then. . . .sorry!

What Will Tomorrow Bring?

Just before I went to bed, I took a stroll along the seafront. The tide was at its height. For a September night in Oban, it was quite pleasant. Visibility was such that you could see the Sound of Mull's navigation lights, flickering their nightly red and green messages for quite a distance down the Sound. Nearby and distant lighthouses were signalling Morse Code messages to each other. No two lights flashing at the same time.
Tomorrow is a five-hour ferry ride, the second longest ferry crossing staying within British waters, (Aberdeen to Lerwick ferry takes 12hrs). However, ferry anoraks will point out that is in fact, over international waters.
While on mainland Scotland or even one of the larger nearby Islands, home is but a short-ride away. The Outer Hebrides are remote, sparsely populated, and exposed, the weather for September 2008 was not good. Unfortunately, at this time, I thought I was now continuing the journey on my own. So it was to bed for a sleepless night. The morning did not come quickly.