Back to Iona

It’s said if you visit Iona once, you should do it three times. This was our fourth trip. The first was part of a tour of Scotland and we stayed for two nights in the Argyle Inn. The second, we couldn’t find a place to stay and booked three nights across the sound in a bed & breakfast in Fionnphort on the Isle Mull. That was the year we stumbled on a cottage to rent, which we booked for four weeks last year and four weeks again this year.

People have asked us how we could stay on such a tiny, remote island with so little to do. It’s only about three miles from north to south and a mile from east to west, with less than 200 residents. The small ferry that crosses the Iona Sound from Mull is the only entry point, and it brings tourists who want to see the Iona Abbey. But there’s so much more. Soon after many people set foot on the island, they feel something unusual. Peace, stillness, whatever you want to call it. Maybe what we write about this year’s trip will help explain.

Our cottage is right on the Iona sound and our stay  began with so many days of sun we almost forgot we were in Scotland. On an island only a mile or so from east to west, we can wake up to the sunrise our our window, and later make a quick 15-minute to the west coast for the sunset. We planned our days around the weather, planning hikes when the sun was out and staying in to write, paint, knit, read or whatever else we wanted.

On the first day we headed north on the main “road” to the sandy beaches, multi-colored rocks and turquoise water, with views out to the islands of Staffa, the Dutchman’s Cap, and of course, Mull. Along the way, you walk through the village, where we like to stop at the Iona Craft Shop for an espresso and, on the first day, Debbie bought out all the Ioan wool in xx green. On the way back, the Low Door, a tiny specialty shop (I banged my head a few times), owned by the St. Columba Hotel, is a good stop for supplies.

The next day, it was on to St. Columba’s Bay on the southern tip of the island, where Columba landed in the year 563 and established the monastery that made the island famous. That trek means heading west to the golf course, which has more cow patties than golfers, and climbing south through the heather cover to the bay, where you find Iona rocks with serpentine, along with a labyrinth. Sheep will wander to the coastline to eat seaweed. It usually takes us about 3 to 4 hours, and we like to stop in the xx to visit Val, talk to her about the stones she’s collected and the jewelry she’s making. Maybe we buy some hoggit, the only break from the largely vegetarian diet we maintain when we’re here.

The weather stayed sunny so the next day we headed back to the north, up to the top of Dun I, Iona’s high point (it’s just a big rocky hill). There, you find views of the Atlantic to the west, north to the islands of Staffa, east to the sound and Mull, and south to the Hill of Angels. It’s usually windy, but we pack a lunch and find a sheltered spot to rest.

Friday was a day of rest, enjoying the dramatic skies, wandering through the Iona Abbey, stopping for an espresso or a dram (or both), shopping at the market, and as always, enjoying the peace, quiet and beautiful views. 

So it’s not that tough to  stay on such a tiny, remote island. There’s plenty of days with rain, maybe even a gale, but there’s always the skies, the rainbows and sense of peace makes it a bit more of a retreat than . a vacation.