Isle of Mull

Like any good adventure story exploring Mull and Lochaline had its thrills and descents. There were moments where I was gripping the seat before me so hard I feared I would pierce the fabric. Cliffs veered down to hungry waves and I quivered at the idea of skidding out of control. Memories of last winter’s car accident in Sweden ate at my nerves as I imaged a similiar scene here, but with a different ending. When we stopped and I spilled out onto the beaches, the ferries and the small patio of our borrowed cottage relief flooded in. Among the same scenes whizzing by only moments ago bliss was always patiently waiting. Continue reading “Isle of Mull”