Excuse me as I turn my chair at the bothy table to face towards the lone window in the main room. The late evening sun is about to slip behind the headland at the southern end of the wide remote bay, but not before it sends its last warming rays streaming through the glass. The view out across the white sand of Glengarrisdale Bay is incredible. Home feels a million miles away and the sound of the waves on the beach, the burn flowing across it and distant stags on the surrounding hills makes me feel totally at ease in my isolated refuge for the night. If I’m being honest, I’ve never been more relieved to arrive at a bothy. It has after all taken the entire day to reach this place. In the process I have broken my walking pole, bloodied my ankle and questioned my sanity. The first day walking the Jura coast has undoubtedly been the toughest thing I’ve ever done. Despite this, I don’t think I’ve felt contentment like this in a long while now that I’m safe. This is living!

A Bit About Jura

You may well have seen the island’s name on the side of nicely decorated whisky containers at the supermarket. This is hardly a surprise as both Jura and neighboring Islay are famous for the quality of the scotch they produce. In one particular part of southern Islay, I do believe you can visit three different distilleries within three kilometres of each other. An alternative option to a pub crawl for sure!

Jura itself is an island of two halves in some ways. Loch Tarbet almost splits it in two with the dramatic Paps and most of the two hundred residents living to the south of it. Much of the north is truly wild, with little more than one footpath and deer outnumbering people by the hundreds.

An Adventure Just Getting There

The urban central belt is relatively close, yet reaching Jura is no easy feat. Before even boarding a ferry, you will need to drive to the tiny port of Kennacraig. Negotiating the irregular coastline on windy single carriageway roads is scenic, but will be a test of your patience if you’re unlucky enough to get stuck behind a camper van or lorry. The varying landscapes you pass through helps pass the time though. Those many miles to Campbeltown soon fall away as you head south.

By early afternoon I arrived at Kennacraig and somehow managed to find one remaining space to leave the car. It was a surprise to see that there was no charge for doing so. Crazy to think that a car park with this view was indeed cheaper than leaving it in the middle of Stevenage for an hour. If you know Stevenage, then you’ll surely agree that every car park should be free of charge there!

Loading my backpack was slowed by a wasp that wouldn’t stop flirting with me. Leaving an empty fruit pot a few metres away proved a good distraction, but I had still faffed to the point where a jog was needed to catch the ferry.

Soon we were leaving the dock behind and heading out into Loch Tarbert. It felt great to be stood at the front of the boat like Leo and Kate in Titanic. The sun was shining and the stiff sea breeze kept the Scottish flag proudly flying. I even got chatting to a chap who I discovered only lived around five miles from me. Talk about a small world. He was accompanying his Scottish dad to Jura, where he was going to be playing classical piano at a function. We shared much of the journey and I wished them well as we eventually docked two hours later at Port Askaig on Islay.

From there I swiftly transferred to another smaller ferry and made the ten minute crossing to the wilder looking Jura. The Paps had loomed on the horizon for much of the journey and were now even more impressive.

One Man and A Million Midges

That heading says it all. Up until this eventful evening, I had only read about the dreaded Scottish midge. During the summer months these tiny draculas hatch in their millions and plague much of the western Highlands and islands. I’d even read of how people had said that dropping the midge on the German trenches in WWI would have ended the war almost straight away. My first evening on Jura was to show me just how right that sentiment was.

Until around nine PM I had a wonderful experience. Pitching my OEX Bobcat tent was easy and a sea breeze kept any bugs at bay. Sitting on a rock and enjoying a good book while watching boats go backwards and forwards between Islay and Jura was more enjoyable than perhaps it sounds.

As the sun slipped behind the hills on the other side of the water, so the breeze dropped. This is just about the worst thing that can happen on a Scottish summer night. Within moments I was swatting midges away and running for the safety of my tent. Naively, I didn’t brush any of the buggers off before zipping the inner shut, so had to evacuate the tent again to finally get rid of them. Eventually, I was virtually midge free and just laid there watching them desperately trying to get at me through the mosquito net. Thankfully I was safe and managed to get a bit of sleep.

Dawn it turns out is equally bad for the little blighters. I was to catch a bus at just after half past seven and packed away my tent in record time. Even with Smidge spray all over me and a net over my head, it was still absolute hell. I used the strategy of packing one thing away, running around and swatting them before repeating several times. Hopefully this footage below of them swarming around my backpack shows how bad they were:

My tip when camping up in Scotland during summer is to find the most windswept spot available. Lovely little glens might look pretty, but those tiny little summer residents will soon turn it into a living hell. You’ve been warned!

Day One- A Hike Of Two Halves

It was a relief to clamber into the back of the mini bus I was to take to the end of the one road which hugs Jura’s east coast. I was the only passenger and soon got chatting to the driver. His name was Stuart and I soon learned that he had moved from Glasgow to the island several years ago and had an assortment of jobs with this being one of them. Stuart loved the island and spoke about the sense of community as well as the winter storms he has seen. It was great listening to his stories. He also talked me through all of the places we passed along the way and even pointed out his house and little boat of his as we drove through Craighouse- the only village of any real size on the island.

https://animoto.com/play/ygTGo9U6a64ayXR3jmxKAA

An Easy First Half

Stuart dropped me at a tiny hamlet called Ardlussa. As he drove away, so I hoisted my heavy pack onto my back and followed the track north. I knew walking the Jura coast would be easy for the first six miles or so, due to it running right up to the northern tip of the island close to the famous whirlpools at Corryvreckan.

There was a real sense of space on this leg of the hike of the Jura coast with the sea to the east and the wild interior to the west.

I really enjoyed the walk along the track, especially after sharing a conversation with a local couple who caught me on the way to Barnhill. They were in awe of what I was attempting to do, but warned me about how tough it would get and that the adders on the island were particularly dangerous. Being told not to move a muscle if bitten didn’t exactly fill me with confidence!

After an hour or so of fairly pacey walking, I spotted a beautiful white house close to the coast. This was Barnhill- the former home of the author George Orwell. Admiring the incredible landscape and views it was afforded soon made me understand how he was able to write his novel 1984 in such a place. He would have had all the solitude he needed and a setting that would inspire anybody to be creative.

For more details about the house, please click here.

After a further three easy miles or so, I made it to the northern extreme of the island. This is where I would be able to view the whirlpools at Corryvreckan. In usual Dan Ryan style, I arrived at probably the worst time of the day but could still see how turbulent this passage of water was. The video link I provided earlier on though does a good job in showing just how dangerous this narrow body of water can be. It is well worth checking out.

The Challenge Begins

Beyond Corryvreckan the path just came to an abrupt end. It didn’t take long to realise that walking the Jura coast from now on in was going to be seriously tough.

Navigation thankfully wasn’t a challenge. If the coast was to the right of me and in sight, then I knew I was heading in the right direction. The terrain was incredible tough though- probably the most challenging I have had to negotiate yet. The thick tussocky grass was uneven and had me moving at a snails pace. Twisting an ankle or worse wasn’t something I wanted to entertain out here. There was also no flat ground whatsoever. The mountains weren’t towering, but they were hard enough with the nine miles or so I already had in my legs.

Without doubt, the bracken was what was really destroying my soul. In places it was taller than me and hid rocks, lumps and possibly even those adders beneath. Forcing my way through it soon became a pretty miserable experience if I’m honest. I was certainly relieved to reach the first sandy bay on my slow walk south.

It took me a further five hours or so to travel the three miles I needed to cover in order to reach the target bothy I had in mind. As grueling as it was, I was blessed with some incredible experiences along the way. Spotting several deer on a hill top was a wonderful sight as were the seals I saw bobbing around in another remote bay. I had never seen them in the wild before and it was amazing just how inquisitive they were. The aching muscles in my legs and many bites I had now received from traipsing through thick bracken seemed worth it just for this alone. What an experience it was!

Soon after leaving the seals behind, so I was forced to either continue to fight my way through almost impenetrable bracken or take to the rocks next to the sea. With the tide being low, I opted for the latter option. While I could see where I was going, it was still very hard work. Rock pools, and slick ground beneath my feet made it very dangerous and I nearly slipped several times.

It was here that I lodged my walking pole between two rocks and then proceeded to snap it in an attempt to keep myself upright. Morale took a bit of a dive off of a cliff right there, as I was relying on the pole to check the depth of various boggy sections and also to keep myself steady on the challenging terrain. I ended up having to stoop like a very elderly person to get any real benefit from it. Rubbish!

The Bothy Is Spotted

I needed a boost and received this when I finally caught sight of Glengarrisdale Bothy. The white building with its red roof was like a beacon against its rugged backdrop. My legs were almost instantaneously filled with energy and I made short work of the remaining bracken with my stub of a walking pole. Even bloodying my ankle on a rock didn’t slow me down, although I’d feel the pain of that a few hours later. Walking the Jura coast now felt like a real privilege rather than an ordeal.

The Bothy Is Reached

I cannot tell you what a great feeling it was to finally walk across the soft white sand of Glengarrisdale Bay towards the welcoming mountain bothy at the far side of the bay. I have made some tough journeys before to reach bothies like on the remote Knoydart peninsula. Relief filled every part of my being and I was proud of not quitting along the way. I had considered calling for help several times such were the challenges I faced, but I persevered. He who dares wins as Del Boy would say!

As you might expect after eleven hours walking the Jura coast, it didn’t take long to settle in and fill my tummy with food and drink. Never had it felt so well earned. The bothy was all mine for the evening and I felt relaxed and at home in this well kept shelter. Carrying a fire log all day seemed worth it now too. There is simply nothing better than a bothy fire in my eyes, especially after a hard day’s work.

By just after ten, the light outside had all but faded. It was time for me to settle down for the night. The flames on the fire still flickered away and the whisky warmed my being as I soon slipped into one of the best sleeps I’ve had in ages. I’d need it for the next leg of the journey,but that tale can wait for another time.