Isle of Iona

"Iona has cast its spell on the sons of men. In early times, it heard the sweet songs of God sung by Saint Columba and his followers. In later days greater men than we have found there what they sought. This island set apart, this motherland of many dreams, still yield its secret, but it only as men seek that they truly find. To reach the heart of Iona is to find something eternal -fresh vision and new courage for every place where love or duty or pain may call us. And he who has so found is ever wishful to return"

This is my third visit to Iona, via Oban on the mainland, and Craignure and Fionnphort on Mull My last visit was nineteen years ago, with my mother, two very well-loved aunts, who have both since died, and my sister who was pregnant with her first child (he is now in his second year at Uni). It has been far, far too long.

The island is beautiful and calm in the extreme, and has been a place of pilgrimage for centuries. Before Saint Columba came here in 563 to spread the Christian message, the island already was a centre of religion for sun worshipping Druids. Certainly the sun shines here: I got sunburned today, and am wearing Greek yoghurt on my face to try and relieve the sting.

These people were making a labyrinth on the sand on Martyrs Bay as the ferry came in. Most likely they were new age Christians, but we could not tell. It looked fun. There is so much to see here: we wandered up towards the abbey, to the Reilig Orain, where the high kings of Scotland are buried. So, too, is a famous Scot, John Smith, the leader of the Labour Party in the UK from 1992-94, who died very suddenly in office. Many people stopped to pay homage to him at his simple gravestone. I thought about blipping that, as well...

In the end, there were 202 pictures to choose from, and that was about 150 too many. Iona and Mull have cast their spell over me for certain, and I will return, for a walking holiday (there are hardly any cars on Iona at all) to get to know it better. A day trip is too short, but I am glad to have been able to take CleanSteve to one of my favourite places on earth.

One of my old schoolfriends saw this image and commented, "my sister C ran The Catholic House of Prayer there for 7 years, I loved going and visiting her there. Had a surreal experience there on Easter, a picnic in a cove away from the wind that we were all in tee shirts, pristine white beach, cloudless blue sky, Mediterranean blue sea and Mull covered in snow, pure magic."

Tomorrow, Hadrian's wall and starting to get homeward bound. It has been a joy to spend time with my family. Tonight's highlight was my sister and her family turning up to set off some very loud fireworks on the beach (she had been asked to dispose of them safely!), and my brother piping them back to the car park with the McIntyre gathering tune, Gabhaidh sinn an rathaid mór, while the poor folk attempting to camp in Achnaba church car park gave up all attempts at getting an early night.