It was so nice not to be sitting glued to the television watching one of the few programs of interest, although I do find the English programs quite good.But to sit in that small cottage, ensconced in the quiet darkness like a silkworm safely inside its cocoon, was blissful. By now Benny had come to grips with all the noises his ears picked up, but the poor thing just could not relax, sitting bolt upright in front of the door, ears pricked, eyes never leaving the door, always at the ready to protect his clan, but not growling anymore! Maybe his throat was sore!
I was up with the birds the next morning, and packed myself a cold breakfast, filled the flask with tea, and set out at first light to look for MacKinnons cave that was supposed to be close to Staffa, but so far I could find no thoroughfare to get down to the sea, as there were strong fences everywhere. The previous time I saw this farm called Balmeanach, and according to Peter MacNab's book, 'The Highways and Byways of Mull and Iona', the path leading down to the beach ran across this farm.
The same friendly dog came to meet me at the gate, and I then realized why he had tried so hard the last time to shoo me into the gate. He was used to people coming through his grounds to go down to the beach, and just showed them that they are very welcome.
When I passed the house, the farmer came out, and he gave me some information about how to get down easily to the beach, as it was extremely rough terrain at some places, but said that the tide was coming in at the moment, and it would be some time before I could attempt to walk to the cave, as the cave was waterlogged at high tide.
It was a lovely morning, the sun shining down warmly on my back as I took the small road downwards. It was absolutely beautiful and wild all around, and after I struggled a bit getting down from the now very muddy path and onto the beach, I stood in awe at the beauty of the huge boulders, which looked to be hard to get passed, but I scrambled to the top of one that was quite far from the roaring water trying to drown everything in it's way. I had my breakfast high up on that rock overlooking the raging sea that was spitting out black seaweed from it's dark and mysterious depths, the only thing around me that was not at peace, just basking in the wonderful sunshine.
I had to go back all too soon, but decided to walk to the cave the next day, and if Liz was prepared to walk so far, she was welcome to go with, as today we were going to Dervaig to have tea in this small bookshop, where apparently you sit at a table amongst all the books and the owner entertains you with tales of the village, and apparently also have a wonderful knowledge about literature, both old and new, if you so wish.
Liz and self have definitely not the same interests, she being more of a city sleeker, who mostly enjoyed jewelery shops, and if it was up to her, we would be forever browsing in a pottery shop, or an art studio or such, while all the beauty outside would be glanced at and forgotten. I also like the shops, but I prefer to climb up a mountain, or down into a glen, and sit watching and waiting for nature to pass by. That is why I am not too bothered if Lizzy sleeps so late, for I could get in quite a lot of hiking and enjoying the wilds.