I walked for miles along the rocky shores of this wild coastline, and did a lot of drawing. The little village of Ellenabach was also nice, but I had my eye on going over to the small island that I could see only a small distance away. But Lizzie was not so very enthusiastic, as the sea was quite rough, and the ferry taking people over to Easedale, is only a wee motorboat, carrying only a few passengers at a time.
But I managed to get Liz so far as to first have a closer look at the 'ferry' before she would decide, and I thanked the skipper for being so persuavesive, as in no time we were seated, our bums a wee bitty wet, and wedged inbetween all kinds of bags and boxes filled with the other passengers's shopping, but nevertheless. The first part of the crossing was fine, as it was quite a calm stretch of water before opening into the ocean.
There are no cars on Easedale, and only a few houses, so the people have to get their shopping to and from the ferry, in guess what? A wheelbarrow! Every household have their own marked wheelbarrow, and from the ferry this is then pushed to their homes. It looked like quite a job, as it was a bitty uphill towards the village centre. The museum on the island was one of the most interesting museums I have so far encountered on a small island, and full of things and stories about the life on Easedale, going back a long time.
I have noticed on my walks that the shoreline is flanked by huge slate kind of heaps, and in this museum the whole story of slate harvesting and cutting is told. What a terribly hard life this islanders had, eking out a living by cutting the slate. The pictures showing this men and young boys sitting bent over, their hands calloused and their faces showing misery, almost had me in tears.
We spent a long time in the museum, as it was quite extensive, with lots and lots of very interesting stories and objects.
Then it was time to go back! As is the way of the weather in Scotland, the sea was chased up and churned into a frenzy by the winds, and poor old Lizzie was in a state of panic when she saw the choppy water we had to cross. Must say, I was also quite panicky, but knew that if I showed it, we would sleep on the grass next to the jetty, as that would cause Liz to have a panic attack, something she gets regularly!
The skipper though looked unconcerned, but as we struggled to board, my heart did contract a bitty, and we were sopping wet in no time. We were the only passengers, save for an old man who was ensconced in a huge coat, with only his eyes showing. It is not a long trip but oh boy, as the little boat rode up the waves, just to fall back into a trough of grey water the next minute, I felt my lunch come up and go down umpteen times, but poor Lizzie quite lost hers in the churning sea!
We looked like drenched chickens when the cheery skipper gave us a hand back onto the safe soil of Seil. He then wished us a very good evening before he gave his attention to the passengers waiting to embark. Phew, I wasn't only wet from the sea water, but could feel the cold sweat running down my spine!