Kinloch Castle Hotel, Rum

14-17 May 1999

Present: Tony & Sheila B, Gordon C, Pete & Helen I, Linda M, John & Pete N, Gail W

All except the Ilieves (catching a later ferry) met in the Lochailort Hotel for a quick drink before finding a place to sleep (local laybys by Morar!). All were settled under a starry sky by 12:30am. The matter of a no overnight parking sign was ignored until Northern Constabulary arrived at 3am; who woke everybody to tell them that there was no problem with sleeping there. It transpired that one of the car boots was open, which is as near a suspicious incident as happens around Morar at that time of night.

A 4:10am gave us ample time to catch the 5am ferry from Mallaig. The harbour was already swarming with Jacobites, 20 of whom would also be on the island for the weekend. At this point Gail was told about the landing arrangements at Rum so had to hastily repack her assorted items. The Lochmor left on time, and made a calm crossing via Canna. There were good views of the islands, and Loch Scavaig and the Skye Cuillin looked particularly spectacular. A school of dolphins appeared, leaping out of the water as they swam by at speed. The flipboat was waiting in Loch Scresort but the large number of passenger necessitated 3 runs to transfer everybody to the island. The FMC group hastily booked themselves into the hostel and headed off for the day.

Gordon and Linda headed across the island to Bloodstone Hill, which after the day’s early start, was a good place for a snooze in the sun. Gail stayed close to the castle to do some painting, while the Nuttals headed for the end of the main ridge. Everybody had to return sharpish to get ready for the evening entertainment. Rum was having its biggest ceilidh for two years. Unlike the usual taped ceilidhs, a band had come over from the mainland. They had been spotted on the midday ferry, drinking heavily. By this stage they were all in quite a state, but could still play. They got a bit carried away and some of the sets were over 20 minutes, at an ever-increasing pace. After a wild evening they eventually stopped, and the survivors were treated to recitations of bad poetry. The last FMC member present was still standing at 2:30 am.

Despite the sleep deprivation of the previous day, everybody was up by 9 the next morning. Linda, Gail and Gordon headed out for a long day on the main ridge. The day started of looking dodgy and although Rum was dry the Skye Cuillin were obviously getting a pasting. There was good scrambling on the way onto Askival, with plenty of Manx Shearwater burrows to add some ornithological interest. The weather cleared on Askival, and we walked in sunshine until it set. A long bouldery descent took us to the top of Dibidil and the base of Trollval. Leaving our packs on the summit of Trollval, we headed out onto the pinnacles. The best scrambling on the ridge was to be found on the ascent of Ainshval. On the summit there was a party for a Yorkshireman who had just completed the Corbetts with his companions kindly giving out champagne and food. He could not have chosen a better mountain or day for his celebration. The western seaboard from Islay to Torridon was visible, and the Outer Hebrides were sharp and clear. The lightest of breezes kept things from getting too hot in the sunshine. Having reached this point, there was little incentive to hurry down, and a short stroll out to Sgurr nan Gillean, without packs, was gentle relief after the ascent. Rather than the steep descent to Dibidal, we descended via the ridge over Runcival. After a difficult and bouldery stretch this reaches Harris. Having come all this way, we took time to look around Bullough mausoleum. A landrover track leads from here, back across the whole width of the island to Kinloch. We climbed past herds of Highland cattle (including many of the original black variety) then goats and finally deer. The sun was setting behind the Skye Cuillin, as we passed through the centre of the island, and we could look back to the ridge. Being able to see the whole lot in a great arc and realise all that we had done would have been satisfying enough, but it had also turned a deep, rich red colour in the fading light. We finally reached Kinloch in the dark, after being out for more than 13 hours.

As we were about to tuck into dinner, we were invited to a slide show, by a member of the ‘Friends of Kinloch Castle’, who could best be described as fanatical (in the truest sense of the word) about the castle, and how it has decayed. The slides nonetheless gave an interesting insight into the lives of its original owners. Following this, wine and whisky consumption carried on until 2 am continuing the experiments in sleep deprivation, which had become such a feature of the weekend.

There were to be no long lies on Monday morning either, since all the luggage had to be ready to be put on the flipboat at 9 am, even though departure was not until the afternoon. The morning was spent with the obligatory tour of the faded decadence of the castle, followed by some lying in the sun, while we waited for the ferry. An extremely low tide meant that even the normal flipboat could not reach the pier, and two smaller boats were required to transfer people to the flipboat, which then transferred them to the ferry. The return to Mallaig was direct.

If anybody can arrange a better weekend than this, let us know.

Gordon C