Egamirglip

Sitting on a rock, listening to the sea lapping at the white sand as I waited for the ferry, full of day trippers.  It wou be easy to spend half a day in that spot, or a week on Iona.  Not much happens here, save the daily tide of tourists, rushing to spend a few hours here.  Day trips from Oban are common: ferry to Craignure on Mull, high-speed bus across Mull, and ferry to Iona for a few hours. In a way I'm rushing too: to the next night's stop.  There are always places you'd like to linger.

There's a weird thing going on around here with dressed-up stuffed figures afound here. I've seen half a dozen today, including a lifeboatman and his dog, who was made entirely of yellow wellington boots.  There were some on the Shetlands too.

I whiled away the return journey along the same road, trying to work out how to spell pilgramage backwards, and with a few detours to the south coast.  One, to Carsaig beach, was only four miles each way but they were steeply up or down all the way.  A real sweat to get to the top, then down initially through a rocky gorge and then a lovely shardy cool wood. At the bottom, the most beautiful bay, better than all those 'best in Europe' beaches in Greece,  and with weather to match.  There were just two other people there.

It was here I discovered what was wrong with my bike.  It hadn't felt right since early in Skye, and I kept looking at various parts but couldn't find anything.   I realised that the back wheel bearings are very loose, and the wheel is wobbling side to side as I ride.  Not dangerous to me, but not good for the wheel, so I'll try and find a bike shop and borrow the right tools.

I returned to the lovely post office café at Pennyghael.  " My usual, please."