Wandering in the West

Tags

craft beer, loch fyne, loch lomond, mull, Scotland, seafood, staffa

Fionnphort on Mull

“Is that the boat for Staffa?” I screamed at the shaggy haired man who trundled towards me up the stone jetty at Fionnphort.

“Yes, it is.” He answered. I watched with dismay as the tiny passenger boat turned around and started to pootle away from us.

“Come back…” I felt as useless as Rose in Titanic.

“OI, MATE, COME BACK.” The shaggy haired chap clearly had more powerful lungs than I. The little boat turned around and came back for me and my boyfriend who’d made into the jetty after a necessary trip to the loo. Thank you, shaggy haired man.

Later that day, standing on the top of Staffa with my favourite bit of man stuff and the salty sea air whipping at my back, I was really glad the boat had turned around. I felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

The approach was a delicious appetiser of choppy waves, seal spotting and tales from the sea courtesy of our friendly boat master. The clouds that had dulled the mainland were left far behind and perfectly blue skies stretched ahead of us to Staffa.

Staffa

Named by the Vikings, Staffa means stave or pillar island. The basalt rock of the island stood uniform like the keys of a piano reaching from the furious navy sea, the tiny boat cave in its side like a deep dark belly button leading into the mysterious darkness of the past.

on Staffa

Once the boat had dropped us off we explored the island on foot. My favourite part was edging into Fingal’s Cave, where the turquoise sea lashed the rocks and flecks of foam danced through the air in the ancient cathedral-like hollow.

Fingal’s Cave on Staffa

The rest of the West

Scotland’s west coast really is quite special. It’s the first place I’d take visitors to show them the ‘real’ Scotland – rugged, wild and at times jaw-droppingly beautiful.

Loch Lomond from Sallochy Campsite

Our little adventure kicked off on the bonnie banks of Loch Lomond, with a night at Sallochy campsite. Stunning as the location was, I merely confirmed to myself that I am simply not made for the outdoors – particularly, not camping (unless there’s plenty of beer involved). Still, there was something quite special about enjoying a warm cup of coffee on the pebbled beach…after surviving a night of camping. Coffee had never tasted so good.

Coffee on the banks of Loch Lomond

The next day we ventured further west, to our cosy little guesthouse in Inveraray. Brambles is my absolute favourite, and we were lucky enough to be in the room that had a brand new roll top bath AND monsoon shower. Needless to say I was very clean by the time we left for dinner two hours later.

outside Loch Fyne Oyster Bar

It’s been on my bucket list to try the seafood platter at Loch Fyne Oyster Bar and, oh my, it was all I could have wished for and more! Scallops, mussels, oysters, cockles, crab…basically the finest fruits of the sea Loch Fyne had to offer. The waiting staff were so lovely and we were pleased to find some locally brewed Fyne Ales on the drinks menu too – the perfect match for seafood.

Loch Fyne Oyster Bar seafood platter

The following day we took a speedy trip to Mull for our Staffa boat trip. Mull was far more enchanting than I’d remembered (I’d visited for work before, and I was quite ill at the time so probably didn’t fully appreciate the place). I love the relaxed pace of life on the island, cars saunter along the singletrack roads at 20mph and sheep lazily graze by the roadside.

Isle of Mull

At this point we’d made the ferry from Oban by a hair’s breadth, and, of course, barely made the Staffa boat on time. So we were feeling rather lucky. Perhaps a little too lucky. In our unbridled glee, I forgot to get my sensible head on to check the ferry timetable. So we got stuck on Mull.

Tobermory

My sorrow at missing a second precious night at Brambles was soon washed away by the colourful harbour and cosy pubs of Tobermory. Cue an evening spent drinking more wonderful Fyne Ales by a roaring log fire and playing cards with some of the locals. Perhaps we were quite lucky after all…

Log fire in the pub at Tobermory

A fine day for Foodies

Tags

candy, churros, cider, food festival, foodies festival, jerk chicken, mark greenaway, oyster, oysters, seafood

The sun shone on Inverleith Park for this year’s Foodies Festival. After an initial wander around the labyrinth of stalls, which offered everything from Arbroath smokies to homemade lemonade, I decided to pay a visit to Mark Greenaway’s stand for a spot of lunch.

The choices were lightly smoked pan seared hake fillet, pea salad and tarragon dressing OR 11 hour slow roasted pork belly puffed crackling pomme puree and toffee apple jus. I opted for the latter and happily devoured it whilst lounging on one of the deck chairs in the sun. My friends tucked into some deep fried chocolate yumminess thanks to our old pals Churrio.

To cleanse the palate I treated myself to an award winning Black Dragon cider, courtesy of the Natural Cider Company. Although the tipple wasn’t to everyone’s taste, I enjoyed the aromatic, strong oaky flavour. With 16 different types of cider to choose from, it would have been rude not to, so I followed this up with a Pheasant Plucker, which was cloudy, bubbly and sweet.

I spotted an old chum Emma, who I used to work with at a retro sweetie shop many light years ago. Turns out Emma’s taken the helm at Love Candy, and if you fancy a Refresher Bar, Sherbet Dib Dab or some blueberry liquorice, get yourself down to her cutesy little shop on Hanover Street.

As someone who a) writes a food blog and b) loves all forms of seafood, I probably shouldn’t be admitting this. But I will – I’d never had an oyster before. So I jumped at the chance when I spotted the Caledonian Oyster Co. Farmed in Loch Creran, I don’t think I could have found a better one to lose my oyster virginity too. It tasted exactly as I’d imagined – salty – but the consistency was much softer, and the aftertaste was truly exquisite.

We finished the day with some Jerk Chicken from the Backyard Company, whose stall pumped infectious reggae beats into the late afternoon.

Compared to the Foodies I’d visited a few years ago, the festival really seems to be coming from strength to strength – with more stalls, more variety and more people visiting.