Last week we got a message from my aunt and uncle saying they wanted to take us away on ‘a wee holiday’. We did not know any details about it and the destination was to be a surprise until the day before we left.
That was when we got another message saying that we would be travelling to Oban. I did not know much about the place, aside from the fact that it was on the other side of Scotland and that it was by the sea. And since we both love the sea, that was enough to make us rather excited. Think dancing Ewoks and then you have a vague image of what our reaction was. So we packed up our bags and drove to St.Andrews, where we left Atlas while we were away and met up with Gill and Doug.
The drive to Oban was a long, but beautiful one. Going to the west coast meant crossing Scotland through the Highlands. So we got to see a lot of hills and lovely lochs, if only in passing.
Oban is a compact town, that is built in a horseshoe-shaped bay, with a lot of islands surrounding it. The one you can see clearly from Oban is the island of Kerrera and behind that the isle of Mull. Off to the south, there are more, amongst other things Jura and Islay.
I feel like we could spend the rest of our trip just exploring all the islands, there seems to be so much so see!
The first thing we did was check into our hotel. And whoooey, what a room! We actually ended up staying in two different hotels, but sadly, I only have pics of the second one.
The first two nights we stayed at the Perle Hotel, with a lovely view of the sea, a sitting area and a writing desk. The room was gorgeous!
The third night we moved over to the Columba Hotel, just along the harbour.
I’ll call it for what it was: It was the utmost lushest suite I have ever been in! It was the Executive Suite, with bottom-to-top windows with an ocean view, chandeliers, two double beds (we ended up putting Big Mac into one of them, so it wouldn’t look empty) and one large bathroom. I swear, the place was as big as our last flat!
As luck would have it the weather decided to turn Scottish on us on the first day in Oban. We didn’t really mind, since it was more of a very constant drizzle than actual rain and so Mike and I went for a walk along the harbour, while Gill and Doug did the sensible thing and stayed at the hotel to enjoy some coffee.
I say sensible because although the weather was just a drizzle, even a drizzle can make it all the way through every single layer of clothes if you run around in it long enough. In this case, I speak of experience.
We walked a good way along the coast, following a footpath until we arrived at the ruins of Dunollie Castle.
Long before Dunollie Castle was built, there was a fortification right at that spot. It had quite a fiery history - literally. Apparently, it was burnt down three times in the span of twenty-five years, the last time being in 701. Then it was rebuilt by Selbach mac Ferchai (King of Dál Riata), who was the person to have it burnt down in the first place.
Dunollie castle was built later by the MacDougalls, who rebuilt it again, lost it to Robert the Bruce, won it back again and then eventually abandoned it to build Dunollie House, just down the road from the ruins.
Unfortunately, we weren’t able to go up to the castle, thanks to Covid, but we had our wet walk as close as we could and looked at the ruins from there, before heading back to Oban.
On the way back we stumbled over a big rock in the middle of the field. It looked interesting enough, but I would not have thought anything of it had it not been for the sign by the path naming the rock as Fingal’s Dogstone.
Fingal (originally Fionn mac Cumhaill) was a hunter-warrior in Irish mythology (although he did also appear in Scottish mythology and in stories from the Isle of Man). He was a giant and there are quite a few geographical features that are named after him and his stories.
The most famous one (or so I assume, since that is the only one I really knew of) is the Giant’s Causeway. According to legend, he built it as stepping-stones to Scotland.
Incidentally, the other end of it is in Fingal’s Cave, which is on Staffa Island, not very far off the coast from where we were standing.
The rock that we found is called Fingal’s Dogstone, because he used to tie one of his dogs, Bran, to it. Bran was apparently not the best behaved of giant dogs, as he kept pulling on his leash, which is why there is now a groove towards the bottom of the stone.
Mike and I headed back to the hotel and spent most of the time until dinner just reheating from our semi-involuntary shower.
The weather had a turnaround the next day, though. Mike and I got up early, to go for a walk before breakfast. When we left the hotel, we found a blue sky, promising a day of warmth and sunshine. It did not disappoint.
We headed up to the top of the hill, to McCaig’s Tower. The tower was paid for and designed by John Stuart McCaig. He wanted a lasting monument to remember his family and he also wanted to provide work for the stonemasons of the area during the winter months.
I would say his plan worked out in every way since the stonemasons were busy for quite a while and the monument has been standing there for over 120 years.
The tower is nice enough, but what I really liked was the view:
After breakfast, Gill and Doug took us for a car trip. We again saw lots of lovely views of the highlands until we got to Seil, one of the Slate-Islands on the east side of Firth of Lorn. Asides from a few shipwreaks and a picturesque view of the Firth, Seil has two things I really liked:
First of all, there was the Tigh an Truish Inn. I have virtually no Gaelic knowledge (my language skills only go as far as ‘banana buidhe’ and ‘Slàinte mhath’), but according to my good friend Google, ‘Tigh an Truish’ means ‘House of the trousers’. It got its name after Kilts were banned during the Jacobite rising. The Scots would allegedly use the Inn to swap their trousers for the forbidden kilts after arriving on the island.
The other thing I really liked was the bridge joining Seil to the mainland. The Clachan bridge was built in the 18th century and is hump-backed, only just large enough for one car to cross and is fairly simple. But since it crosses the Firth, which joins into the Ocean at both ends, the bridge is also dubbed ‘Bridge over the Atlantic’.
So, just so this has officially been documented for our bucket list watchers: we crossed the Atlantic four times in the space of ten minutes! How is that for a world record?
Going back to Oban we had even more excitement, as Doug had the idea that we could go on a boat trip. So we joined Allan’s Wildlife Boat Trips to see if we could see a seal in the sea. We did, but only one heading in the other direction.
Still, the views of Mull, Lismore and Kerrera were breathtaking and Allan seemed like a fun guy!
All-in-all I can recommend Oban to anyone who likes pretty views, good walks and exciting islands.
So at this point, I want to end with a very big ‘Thank you’ to aunt Gill and uncle Doug for the gorgeous trip! We had a blast!
Slàinte mhath