Ardnamurchan Peninsula 26th July 2026
Then it was on towards the Ardnamurchan Peninsula, one of the main objectives of this trip. Unlike my journey the previous May, at Salen I turned left and immediately discovered that distances are fairly meaningless around here: mile after mile of twisting single-track road where absolutely nothing happens quickly — made slightly more sobering by the knowledge that, presumably, I'd eventually have to drive the whole thing back again.
Drive-tired rather earlier than planned, I found a lovely place to stop just before Glenborrodale and wandered down to the loch. Looking across the water I realised that the opposite shore, seemingly a stone's throw away, was exactly where I'd been on the bike earlier. It had taken about 75 minutes to drive there. Welcome to Ardnamurchan. That evening also brought my first proper encounter of the trip with Scottish midges, which emerged in force and with apparently considerable enthusiasm for fresh English blood. Fortunately this wasn't one of my backpacking trips: I retreated smugly into the van, shut the doors and left them outside contemplating their disappointment.
Morning produced the worst weather of the trip so far. The plan had been Ben Hiant, the highest point on Ardnamurchan at only around 1,700ft and normally a straightforward proposition, but when I reached the start the entire mountain had disappeared into cloud. There seemed little point climbing it purely to confirm that the inside of a cloud is grey, so instead I took a short walk down towards the beach and read about the extraordinary geology of Ardnamurchan — the remains of a huge ancient volcanic complex — before continuing west. As had become almost routine, the weather gradually improved during the afternoon, and I eventually reached Ardnamurchan Point, the most westerly point of mainland Britain.
Isle of Mull
Somewhere along the way I also discovered a tiny ferry across to Mull which I hadn't even known existed. I was already feeling unusually indecisive about what to do next and wasn't particularly enthusiastic about retracing that long, slow road all the way back to Salen. So, with very little planning, I did what seemed perfectly logical at the time and drove onto the ferry. There were just three vehicles aboard, and a short while later I arrived in Tobermory. After all that effort getting deep into Ardnamurchan, I had somehow managed to end up back on Mull — the island I'd visited only the previous year. Not remotely the plan, but increasingly that seems to be how these trips work.
Of course, almost as soon as the ferry pulled away from Ardnamurchan, I looked back to discover Ben Hiant now completely clear of cloud, with increasingly blue skies behind it. I'd given it every opportunity! Still, the decision was made and before long I was back in Tobermory, where the first priority was a quick pit stop at the Co-op. After the indecision, the weather and another ferry diversion, I decided I'd earned a beer or two. Supplies secured, I headed for Loch na Keal, one of my favourite spots from the previous May, and positioned the van with some care to get the best possible grandstand view of the evening. For once the weather delivered magnificently: a wonderful sunset across the loch, made even better by two eagles, probably Golden Eagles, circling above the mist hanging around Ben More. At times like that the forgotten camera and binoculars back in Sheffield felt particularly irritating, but it was still a pretty special way to end the day.
Predictably, I woke to another rather sombre morning and decided to head north towards Calgary Bay, stopping on the way at the impressive Eas Fors waterfalls. By the time I reached Calgary the rain had evolved into that particularly Scottish variety — the fine misty stuff that doesn't look sufficiently serious to bother putting waterproofs on for, but somehow manages to soak you anyway — which accompanied my walk across the bay. From there I essentially retraced, in reverse and this time in the van, a bike ride I'd done the previous May, continuing across to Salen for lunch beside the jetty. Then it was south to Craignure, timing things nicely for the ferry back to Oban. So my spontaneous second visit to Mull had lasted barely a day, but had given me a glorious sunset, eagles, waterfalls, another soaking and a reminder of just how much I like the island. I'm sure I'll be back again one day.
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