From a lovely attic bedroom in Lochranza I overlooked the harbor with the lights glimmering out from the houses across the water at night, and the old castle somewhere down on the spit of land in the middle. To reach the Isle of Arran you must take about an hour's ferry ride from the mainland, which is quite unique if you're from somewhere as land bound as Colorado. It's especially exciting, with the right jacket, to stand outside on the deck with the wind in your face as you approach the island.
The morning after arriving I discovered the buses weren't running on their normal schedule due to repaving work. There is only one main road that circumnavigates the island and one that runs through the center. So rather than starting off somewhere else on the island I went for a hike up a hill nearby with a great view of the ocean. Like so many paths, it was rather muddy in patches and the hems of my pants were painted in brown by the time I came out behind one of the villages up the road with a stunning view of the little white houses just behind the pebble beach, and a bright green field dotted with white sheep.
Catching the one bus in the middle of the day, I went for lunch at a cafe in town to have fish and chips. Not something I'd normally order, but being next to the ocean the perspective of having fresh, local fish is rather different than in Colorado.
On my bus ride to my Airbnb the evening before I'd spied the Arran Heritage Museum located on the edge of town. So after lunch that's where I went. As luck would have it their school room was even based on a 1940s set up! There was a blacksmithy, an old post office, and milking house too. My favorite though was the late Victorian house with its tiny attic bedroom, kitchen with the heavy metal range, and bed built into the wall with curtains to completely close you in just off the very tiny sitting room. What is most memorable is the breath from the past, not because of one item or another, but the whole atmosphere of the dark cozy rooms, and the possessions that we recognize, yet so clearly know are from a by gone era.
In the evening sun I took a walk along the beach stopping to watch the birds. Who would guess, but the Mallard ducks have made it all the way to Scotland too. They'd take off, fly a full circle, and then decide they really did like the tide pool they'd been in and come splashing back down.
After London the Island was a breath of calm and quiet, even at 5:30 am the next morning when I had to get up to catch the only morning bus down to the ferry. How very glad I've been that I remembered to pack my hat and gloves at the last minute!
