The IMC trip to Rum for the May holiday weekend started for me on Thursday as I went by public transport. The scenery on the Friday on the Fort William/ Mallaig train journey was magnificent and it was much smoother than the alternative route by the A830 trunk road with single track and passing places.
We supported a local ceilidh, but it never started until late, so we left after three dances for our beauty sleep. A little girl with an angelic face stole our raffle tickets. The locals must be wild! All weekend there was glorious, sunny, settled weather. I went up Berkeval, from where I could see all the Western Isles laid out like little gem stones in a necklace. There was the Cuillins of Skye to the north, The Rum Cuillin to the south and Knoydart to the east with a snow capped Ben Nevis beyond.
Rowland and Jenny climbed part way along the ridge and contoured back to the slopes of Hallival where they bivouacked out to listen to the eerie noises of the manx shearwaters at night. They make an unearthly chorus of cackling and shrieking as they fly to be greeted by their mates or youngsters underground.
Shearwaters are fast and agile on the wing, but by contrast they are remarkably awkward on land as Rowland and Jenny saw with their headtorches. On land they propel themselves with their feet in an ungainly shuffle on their wings and belly.
We had a good sighting of sea eagles that were so close that they filled the lens of our binoculars. Andy, who has hopefully been persuaded to join the club, traversed the Rum Cuillin in ideal weather conditions and popped in for a cup of tea afterwards. (It was too early for anything stronger) The Cal Mac ferry was late in returning and I missed my train connection at Mallaig so I ended going straight to Inverness by car. Now I am in the frustrating business of reclaiming my ticket fees!
Elizabeth
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