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blogging, dog treats, Fingal's Cave, holiday, humor, International Dog of Mystery, Isle of Mull, Scotland, travel
“What happened this time?”
I haven’t known my friend Catherine that long, but she’s smart so she’s already figured out about my best-laid plans… Well, actually none of my plans are all that well-laid, but that’s only because it really doesn’t matter. They aren’t going to work anyway. And even that doesn’t matter, because the one constant we’ve found in Scotland is that everywhere we go, incredibly nice people help us.
And I can blog about it.
Take our recent holiday to the Isle of Mull that Catherine was asking about. In celebration of Child #4 completing her last University exam ever, I had (for me) outdone myself on planning—booked a cottage and a boat trip to view Fingal’s Cave, and reserved the car ferry. I’d bought the trip essentials (dog treats and Starbucks instant Via coffee), and even emailed the owner of the cottage—a lot—to make sure it had wifi. Best of all, I’d checked the weather and this was the one time in weeks that was predicted for sunshine.
The dog was all about getting up and having breakfast early, so the only difficulty I foresaw was waking up the Hub and Child #4 at 0:dark-thirty in order to reach the ferry on time. Once the bitching and the moaning died down, we were on the road to Oban with plenty of time to make that morning ferry to Mull. What could possibly go wrong? Nothing except for stopping for coffee, road repairs, traffic around Loch Lomond, gas, more coffee, and the need to …er…get rid of the coffee…
As the arrival time on the GPS slowly overtook the departure time of the ferry, the Hub sped up until we were taking curves like Nascar champions, while I made helpful remarks regarding the amount of money spent on boat trips that we were probably going to miss. “Don’t worry, though,” I assured them. “Even if we miss the ferry, I can always blog about it.” The Hub went faster, and Child #4 turned an interesting shade of green. She was leaning out the window and threatening to revisit breakfast as the ferry terminal came into sight. “I’ll so blog it,” I told her. (Her answer wasn’t pretty.)
Two guys in yellow jackets considered the loaded ferry and conferred. They waved the two cars ahead of us onto the ramp. More conferring. Guy One pointed at our car while Guy Two shook his head, probably worried about the added weight from all the coffee and dog treats. Finally Guy One waved us on. Guy Two told us to pull in at an angle, and—clearly absolving himself of any dire consequences caused by the addition of our dog-treat over-laden vehicle—he leaped off the boat. Coward.
Digression: one of the things that we had to learn when we moved to the UK was the British-Wave. Americans know the proper way to drive is to get there ahead of everyone else at all costs. If you let them cut in front of you, they will own your manhood and, probably, your car and wife as well. So you expect Americans driving in the UK to not only back-the-f-up when facing another driver, but actually smile and wave? That’s like expecting the Queen to put on a bikini and serve ice-cream to paparazzi. It’s both physically possible and virtually inconceivable.
We waved, backed up, smiled, lifted a hand or at least a finger (no, not that one) and inched our way across the island. Luckily, we made it in time for the tour boat—mainly because it was an hour late. Perhaps this is the point where I should mention what I was wearing. I only bring it up because I actually believed the weather reports (warm and sunny) and online guides for our destination (paved paths), so I was wearing sandals and lightweight trousers. (Remember the sandals.)
Finally back on Mull, we went to look up the owner of the cottage we’d rented. Gillian MacNeill is a lovely lady whose family has been farming and running Isle of Mull Holidays—holiday cottages along with their bed and breakfast—on the island for over forty years. She gave us keys and directions, but urged us to take the time to visit the local weaving mill first. In the middle of some of the most beautiful scenery you can imagine—hills and cliffs and beach—is the Ardalanish organic farm. Along with raising native Highland cattle and Hebridean sheep, they run the Isle of Mull Weavers. Originally founded by Bob and Kathy Ryan in 1987, the Mill moved to the Ardalanish farm when Bob “retired” five years ago. Except instead of retiring, he’s been teaching a new generation of weavers to use the tools and create the beautiful traditional patterns of wool that carry the weaver’s touch in every yarn.
After several of those gorgeous scarves found their way into our car, we headed for the cottage. Scottish weather is only predictable by being unpredictable, so it was pouring by the time we reached the cottage. But Gillian’s cottage was everything she’d promised and more.
Friends had told us we absolutely had to eat at Cafe Fish, so we stopped in Tobermory, a seaside village almost too charmingly picturesque to be believed.
But we couldn’t linger to explore the village because just as we were about to park, the car’s cheerful chirping stopped. So did the power steering. The hub wrestled it back to the ferry terminal, but as we pulled into line, our old friend Guy One came over and helpfully pointed out, “Yer bonnet’s steamin’.”
I went into the nearby tourist office, only to discover that there weren’t rooms left anywhere on the Island, fully booked for a summer weekend. But Alan, at the desk, refused to give up. He kept calling around until he reached the Isle of Mull Hotel, who said they had one family suite left and would accept the dog as well. He handed me the phone, and the lady on the other end named a price so astronomical I had to sit down.
She seemed to understand, because she asked if I could wait while she checked on whether there was anything they could do. Sure enough, she called back to say her name was Esther, and they could give us the room at less than half the original price. While the Hub waited to see if anyone had a spare water pump lying around, the dog and I set off to hike to the hotel and Esther, our new BFF.
With no water pump available until Monday, we took the ferry back to Oban as foot passengers the next day. On board, I followed the sound of singing to find the Mull Gaelic Choir warming up for a competition on Oban. A dashing choir member turned out to be my friend Alan from the Tourist Office. He asked about our night. “I can blog it,” I told him, careful to steer him away from Child #4. (She was still bitter about the night before, comparing the snorage coming from her parents to “call and response” of wild moose. I wasn’t sure I could blog that.)
Alas for Child #4’s hopes that she could catch up on her sleep once we got on the train from Oban to Glasgow. While I took the dog for a final constitutional before boarding the train, she went aboard first to grab seats for us.
Text from Child #4: Got us seats together. Next to baby. Screaming. As they do.
She was easy to find because, even as we approached the train, we could hear the shrieks of pure infant fury. “That’s okay,” I said as we took our seats. “That means he’s tired and he’ll probably go to sleep.” I was right. That baby dropped right off to sleep—three and a half hours from hell later as his father carried him off the train. The rest of the time he screamed nonstop. His parents (deaf, stoned, or both) calmly ignored his wails the entire trip.
I opened my mouth to mention the blogability of this experience, and my daughter informed me that not only would she not be having children, but she was seriously considering moving someplace where neither children nor blogging are allowed, like prison or the set of Inside Amy Schumer.
So I get to blog my holiday. Here goes:
I took a summer holiday. Most things I planned went wrong. The people that I met made up for this in so many ways, I can’t even count them. Best holiday ever!
Epilogue: as I walked the dog when we got back, I noticed that a new store had opened in our neighborhood. In the window (I can’t make this up) was a pair of NEW sandals almost identical to the ones the bog ate. They were just my size. “Plus,” I told Catherine, “I now have a spare one for emergencies or future sacrificial bog offerings.” Oddly enough, she still refuses come on holiday with me next time. Was it something I blogged?
Okay, one more epilogue…The new water pump made its way across to Mull on the Monday ferry, and was duly installed by the ace mechanical team at Bayview Garage. But all agreed that it was, perhaps, for the best if the Hub went over to Mull collect the newly repaired car without my help. Weird.
Rosie Amber said:
What a tale and I only learned about Finn MacCool and Benadonner this very morning what an amazing coincidence. Now I see where the screaming baby incident I’ve previously read about comes in to it.
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barbtaub said:
We’re still not past that baby. But it’s virtually certain that we were once those parents, so we didn’t say anything.
Isn’t it a great picture–those giants heaving boulders back and forth to create those two incredible sites?
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Rosie Amber said:
I was at the school this morning listening to children read and the story of these two giants was in one of the books a child was reading to me, lovely fairy tale pictures too.
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barbtaub said:
I grew up hearing the story from the Irish side, so it was both amazing and cool to find out that there is a place in Scotland that speaks to the same story!
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Deborah said:
What a trip! And how I laughed at your blogging obsession… my own dear husband keeps yelling at me to stop taking photos of pur food, to which I snap back “IT’S FOR POSTERITY!”
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barbtaub said:
My family sighs nostalgically for the good old days when they could eat in restaurants without someone (okay, me) screaming “Don’t touch that! I have to blog it.”
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quiall said:
hahah Oh My Word! That was hilarious! Yep, I can see a coffee table book of pictures of Scotland and holiday stories. The title? “Best Holidays EVER!” Best seller!
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barbtaub said:
I don’t know why people hold things against me (like the fact that everyone who travels with us gets divorced. Usually immediately.)… I always end up having a terrific time.
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Seumas Gallacher said:
…great (normal for Scotland) trip… you may know already, I lived in Tobernmory for 6 years , 50 years ago… people are the salt of the earth, and regardless of weather, it;s God’s chosen country, m’Lady, Barb:):):)
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barbtaub said:
I know! I just have to go back there. (Plus they have at least one seriously fabulous restaurant.)
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Elaine W. Lane said:
Hahaha! I love this! Nearly every single vacation I’ve taken with family, which is all of them, has some not-planned adventures that seem stressful at the time, but have ended up being the memories my sons love the most. Of course, when I was still vacationing with my sons, the internet was an infant and there was no blogging. Now my husband will say to me, “You’re not putting this picture on Facebook or your blog, are you?” 🙂
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barbtaub said:
Since the Hub doesn’t look at Facebook or blogs, I just tell him, “Of course not!” It’s really for the best…
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Time Traveler said:
OMG I thought that my vacations were strange. You planned so well, and everything turned out just as you planned, right? With kids one can never really plan. They will hate everything until they are 30 then the will remember it and laugh and long for it to happen again, probably with revision as them the hero.
Great blog. Thanks!
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barbtaub said:
Oh, no… they’ll still hold any vacation that didn’t involve the Mouse against you forever. Seriously, you might as well just pitch a tent behind your house and throw Chez Mac’s in the flap a couple of times a day. They’ll like it a LOT more than those vacations you keep planning that involve scenery and stuff.
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Bastet said:
Really Barb … I’ve never read any travelogues as interesting and as funny as yours … sometimes I think you indulge in just a tad of judicious imagination … but then I say … nah, nobody can have that way-out sort of imagination … so it must all be true! Fantastic!
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barbtaub said:
Sadly, all true. I have Child#4 as my (disgruntled) witness. So…Bastet, old bud. Ready to go on a vacation with me?
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Bastet said:
Hmmmmm …. actually sounds like it be great fun! Though I’ll be sure to bring along an extra pair of sandals … and I’ll ignore the weather reports 😀
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Kassandra Lamb said:
LOL Always good to have an extra sandal for the blog gods!
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barbtaub said:
Apparently, the sacrifice worked. Nobody else lost any footgear, at least on that trip.
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Cathy said:
Wonderful post and photos, I have to go there! I believed the weather forecast too, once…and I was going south… to Guernsey. It was June and we were nearly in France for goodness sake, and it was freezing. Good excuse for some new clothes though.
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barbtaub said:
I should have known better. I remember one July, years ago, coming from the States—the West Coast—to my older daughter’s graduation at Edinburgh University in July. We brought sundresses, sandals, sunglasses… First thing we did in Edinburgh was shop for sweaters and jackets.
But I have to say it was worth getting cold and even sacrificing one sandal to see Mull. It’s just gorgeous!
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Cathy said:
I can absolutely believe it.
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Catherine Hokin said:
This woman is going away in the summer. For weeks. To Spain. I can only await the tales of madness with rising glee!!
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barbtaub said:
I notice you did NOT suggest I come to California with you!
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Georgia Rose said:
Totally brilliant post Barb – I would come a road trip with you anytime!! This is a place I definitely want to get to see and you have made it more appealing than any guide book could ever do…oooh I feel a new career in travel guides coming on for you 🙂
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barbtaub said:
Thanks so much! (I’m going to need a new career if we have to keep fixing up my husband’s beloved “classic”.)
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A Woman's Wisdom said:
Reblogged this on A Woman's Wisdom – The Book Blog For Lovers Of The Written Word and commented:
Loved this humour filled post from Barb Taub on holiday plans which went awry 🙂
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barbtaub said:
Woohoo! A reblog from AWW—score!!! (And thanks so much. I’m very flattered.)
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Terry Tyler said:
I f**king love your posts, Barb.
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barbtaub said:
I f**king love your comments, Terry.
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rosgemmell said:
Fantastic blog post. I laughed my way through it, not least because I live in the west coast of Scotland and loved your (spot on) comment about the only thing predictable about the weather is its unpredictability! Glad you found much to enjoy in between.
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barbtaub said:
You are incredibly lucky to live in such a gorgeous (if soggy) place!
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Mary Smith said:
Brilliant post. I was in need of cheering up this afternoon and this did it fo me! Thank you. Loved the pics, too.
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barbtaub said:
What a lovely comment! Thanks so much for stopping by.
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Joan Fleming said:
Brilliant post. I was with you every inch of the way. My late father-in-law was from Mull, and I’ve visited many times. My debut novel (and my second one which is in the pipeline) is set mainly in the Ross of Mull, so your humorous post was music to my ears. Thank you for the laughter and the lovely pics.
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barbtaub said:
Your book, What the Future Holds, sounds amazing. What are you working on now?
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Joan Fleming said:
I’m working on a third Mull novel. Loving writing about the island.
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barbtaub said:
Mull is the BEST! I can’t wait to go back. Well, maybe in a different vehicle…
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Lizzie Lamb said:
Hi Barb, I am just about to write a couple of blog posts about why I love Scotland so much. Maybe I’ll just reblog yours and save myself some trouble. (Just kidding) I should blog more but I seem to spend most of my time reading other writer’s’ blogs – I love this one. We should have driven over to Mull last autumn to see the sea eagles but a combination of factory: time, coast and slightly dodgy weather put us off. I’ll just enjoy your photos, instead. Thank you.
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barbtaub said:
Sorry you missed Mull but look at it this way…at least your shoes are still a matched pair! Let me know if you’re ever up my way (Glasgow) and we can grab coffee.
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newromanticspress said:
Reblogged this on Lizzie Lamb and commented:
This great blog post has reminded me about the posts I should be writing. Maybe once Scotch on the Rocks is finally launched I will.
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barbtaub said:
Thanks so much for the reblog! And I’m one of the crowd of happy fans waiting for Scotch on the Rocks, so I can’t wait for your blogs as well.
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newromanticspress said:
Thanks Barbara 😋
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Elyse said:
There is never any point in planning ahead. It never works out anyway.
Lovely trip — I feel like I was along for the journey. I just wish I could find my other sandal…
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Rhonda Albom said:
Loved that picture of Fingal’s cave. My daughter would have enjoyed this holiday as she is mad about Highland cattle. And hubby would have felt seen the humour in a broken water pump (ours went out in a home exchange car in the south of Spain). All in all, sounds similar to some of my holidays!
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Rebecca Douglass said:
Oh, this is the best vacation blog post ever! Love it 🙂 So glad you shared with the Deja Vu hop 🙂
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quiall said:
I loved even more the second time around!
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Heather M. Gardner said:
AH! This is a wonderful tale! I love the way you tell it and the pictures that you shared!
Well done!
Heather
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Carolyn van Poppel said:
What a humorous way you have written your article. Loved it, couldn’t stop half way, had to keep reading to see what happened next!
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DL Hammons said:
I SOOOOOO LOVED this!!! This is why I do the Deja Vu Blogfest…so I can be exposed to post like this. Thank you so much for re-posting it for us. 🙂
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Samantha Bryant (@mirymom1) said:
Well worth revisiting for deja-vu. Thanks for the story.
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