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From Kate\'s Cottage to Loch Na Keal and Grasspoint

24/4/2011

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Kate's Cottage
Walking straight from the cottage westwards over the hill towards Killiechronan by Loch Na Keal takes you past an iron age hill fort, through mossy oak woods, pine forest and past an artist’s house before dropping through a farm to the Loch below for lunch. The return walk takes you along the valley which is the narrowest part of the island to Salen where there are three abandoned fishing boats lying on the shore next to an old stone jetty. 

From here, we spotted seals on an outcrop exposed by the tide that were basking in the milky sunlight. The path leading back to our cottage led from the coast up a hill through fields with sheep and their lambs. My son noticed dung beetles moving sheep manure off the track which merited some macro photos before we reached Kate’s Cottage for afternoon tea and cake. 

After an hour, we drove down the island through Craignure, past Duart Castle, before turning off the road to Grasspoint with the hope of seeing wild otters. The road was winding but not as challenging as the advice we had been given and led us past a herd of Highland cattle that posed beautifully for us. 

At the point, there is a stone pier which in the past was used for loading cattle to be shipped to the mainland. There is also an old farmhouse, now holiday house, plus a tiny cottage overlooking the Firth of Orn and the hills of the mainland in the distance. 

The otters were not around this evening but evidence­­­­­­­ of their presence was everywhere in the small inlet by the houses marked by empty crab shells, cockles shells and droppings. A couple of seals bobbed along the surface past us as the sun started to lower in the sky. It was time to go but Grasspoint made an impression on all of us by its beauty and silence.

The Craignure Inn looked like nothing special on the outside but it was open. Inside, it was a lot friendlier than its exterior and we soon settled down to a drink and very good pub food. One of the bar staff was from Lincoln doing seasonal work. Most of the other customers sounded English and the bar staff confirmed that most of them were and lived on the island. We trundled back along the main road seeing few other cars as the light faded but was still there at 9pm. 

Walking straight from the cottage westwards over the hill towards Killiechronan by Loch Na Keal takes you past an iron age hill fort, through mossy oak woods, pine forest and past an artist’s house before dropping through a farm to the Loch below for lunch. The return walk takes you along the valley which is the narrowest part of the island to Salen where there are three abandoned fishing boats lying on the shore next to an old stone jetty.

From here, we spotted seals on an outcrop exposed by the tide that were basking in the milky sunlight. The path leading back to our cottage led from the coast up a hill through fields with sheep and their lambs. My son noticed dung beetles moving sheep manure off the track which merited some macro photos before we reached Kate’s Cottage for afternoon tea and cake.

After an hour, we drove down the island through Craignure, past Duart Castle, before turning off the road to Grasspoint with the hope of seeing wild otters. The road was winding but not as challenging as the advice we had been given and led us past a herd of Highland cattle that posed beautifully for us.

At the point, there is a stone pier which in the past was used for loading cattle to be shipped to the mainland. There is also an old farmhouse, now holiday house, plus a tiny cottage overlooking the Firth of Orn and the hills of the mainland in the distance.

The otters were not around this evening but evidence­­­­­­­ of their presence was everywhere in the small inlet by the houses marked by empty crab shells, cockles shells and droppings. A couple of seals bobbed along the surface past us as the sun started to lower in the sky. It was time to go but Grasspoint made an impression on all of us by its beauty and silence.

The Craignure Inn looked like nothing special on the outside but it was open. Inside, it was a lot friendlier than its exterior and we soon settled down to a drink and very good pub food. One of the bar staff was from Lincoln doing seasonal work. Most of the other customers sounded English and the bar staff confirmed that most of them were and lived on the island. We trundled back along the main road seeing few other cars as the light faded but was still there at 9pm. 

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    Will Hawkins lives in Lincolnshire with his family and is now a magazine editor and occasional adventure cyclist.

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