WILD ISLANDS
Standing on deck, I watch the famous sweep of land, stretching down to the sea on its north side, that tells you it’s unmistakeably Eigg. The sun bursts through the clouds, transforming the island from a uniform grey into a wash of colour, contours and shadows.
Momentarily, I forget to watch the water, but when some diving gannets catch my attention and a flock of guillemots whirrs past, I suddenly see the slow arc of a minke whale, its small dorsal fin, sickle-shaped towards the back of its back, curving round and into the water. It comes up again in another smooth roll and disappears. I know that I’ve already arrived.
For me, going to any of the Scottish islands always starts on the ferry and sometimes beforehand, in the spectacular scenery on the drive to the ferry terminal at Ullapool, Mallaig or Oban. There’s something marvellous about taking your time to get to the islands. If you’re going to Mallaig, the West Coast trainline is rightly renowned.
“These islands and the waters around them are places to savour”
Once on the ferry,
