They were on a mission. They set off from the Glasgow railway station, on the first leg of the journey to Oban, a small port-town on the western coast of Scotland. It was evening by the time they reached. On the way to their B&B, they noticed the stately ferry that would take them to the Isle of Mull the next day. The next day's breakfast was uneventful but she was so excited about fulfilling the dream that had haunted her ever since she saw those hexagonal rocks stacked up at Giant's causeway in Northern Ireland.
Legend has it that Fingal was an Irish giant who wanted to invite the Scottish giant Bennandonner for a fight and built a giant causeway across the North Channel from Ireland to Scotland. But when Bennandonner came to Ireland, Fingal found that he was much better than he expected and was scared stiff. His wife was a clever lady and wrapped up Fingal in baby's clothes. When Bennandonner saw the baby, he was terrified to think of the size of the father and ran back home to safety., destroying the causeway behind him to ensure that he would not be followed.
They had seen the hexagonal columns jutting into the sea in Northern Ireland, the start of the "Giant's causeway" and when she heard the tale, she vowed that she could see the other end in Scotland's Fingal's cave. Now,to fulfil that vow., they were on a crowded ferry that would drop them off at the Isle of Mull before it went on to take more important people to places of more significance. He found the Isle of Mull rightly named, because there seemed to be little less to do there. It was starkly flat with little to no inhabitants. The main activity on the island seemed to be the bus transfer that went east to west once in the morning and retraced it's route once in the evening. As they were waiting for the bus to arrive at the ferry terminal, they noticed small sets of people and were heartened to think that they were also admirers of the Fingal's cave.
The bus went on a narrow road that winded around a hill sitting on most of the island. The road was so narrow that he wondered what would happen if a vehicle were to come in the opposite direction. Then, he reminded himself that it was quite possible the bus was the sole user of the road and they didn't have anything to worry about. Once they reached the Western end, they started feeling the North sea more than they saw it. The foggy sea was heaving and crashing throwing ice-cold sprays of sea-water at the waiting crowd. A man was untying a boat that seemed so unassuming against that rough sea. He had a grim expression and told us that we could not venture right away and that we will have to wait until the sea settles down. She didn't seem affected but he was anxious because he knew from the guidebooks that trips to the Fingal's cave was highly dependent on good weather. But he reassured himself that they had nothing to worry about. He was positive that a busload of people cannot be sent back without a sight of the promised cave.
When the boatman was finally satisfied that the boat could be convinced to remain right-side up, he called out to the waiting families. As they joined the rest of the tourists, he thought it prudent to enquire the boatman of the existence of Fingal's cave in his charter. The man said he will see what he can do and failed to offer any further reassurance. The rest of the party took this news surprisingly well and that's when the truth struck him - they were not here for the cave but for the Iona Abbey, an added attraction to him and her but apparently, the sole purpose of visit for many others. The Iona Abbey was just a hop away from the isle and therefore, they were assured of a visit. Fingal's cave, on the other hand, was deep into the fog in the north.
The Abbey was a lovely place but they couldn't enjoy it. It had been built in that remote end to escape the torment of invaders but it was no longer safe from the tourists and families. He and She sat in a corner, hoping against hope that the boatman would have recovered his cheer and will find a new strength to take them to Fingal's cave. But when he steered the boat east, He knew they were going back to the isle but did not have the strength to tell her. She was bitterly disappointed and tried to find ways for them to try again. But he had booked all legs of the journey in advance and there was no promise that the weather would improve the next day.
To cheer her up, he got her an apple cider, the only thing available in the outpost. Because they had nothing to do till the evening, when the bus would go down the reverse route, they climbed up the small hill, braving the cold winds. The light was funny up there, grey and dirty blue. The wind was piercing cold and tried its best to push them off the hill. The sea looked like a gray mystery shrouded in cottons of mist. They stood together in the biting cold, ruing their fate and wondering why Fingal was so hard to visit.
_~ Him_
© 2019 Subhash G