Mull and Puffins — Scotland 2015

The first small tour was nice but we craved for something more exciting. We lacked some shore lines and sea water. Tobermory’s harbour is a rather quiet place as it lies sheltered between Mull and the main land.

So the next day, we headed to Dervaig. There we headed to Quinish point. Along with us several other tourists had the same idea, most of them carrying the same booklet like us with walking tours of Mull. We nodded at each other and the race begun. We won. Obviously.

But first things first. We crossed some woods and pastures and saw many sheep. We made a long detour, because the description in the guide were ambiguous.



Home Farm looked like a great place for the zombie apocalypse. Remotely located, with pastures and fields around, easy to defend for its large U shape. It also looked a bit run down already, we were unsure whether or not it is still in operation.


Everyone knows that the sheep are evil.



We took a huge detour before this picture was taken. The walking guide mentioned a standing stone just a short walk away and we tried to find it. After we gave up, returned to the original path and headed on we found a rather non spectacular stone literally next to the path. The guide failed to mention the previous fork of the path, resulting in not only confusing us, but also a few other wanderers we met on this detour. Stupid guide.

Back on track, strutting like a big boy. (From Doro.)
From Doro.


Quinish point itself is a protruding peninsula at the North edge of Mull. It is a windy place with beautiful views of the ocean, but yet again the ocean couldn’t excite me a lot as it was very gentle and quiet. I want the roaring noise of waves breaking on the shore lines, wind that blows in my face, screaming insults from faraway lands in a windy language and coarse coastlines.

It was still quite enjoyable though. The place was remote enough to only meet other humans every hour or so and so we could really relax. And slowly but surely burn our noses in the sun.




From Doro.
From Doro.
From Doro.




From Doro.


From Doro.


From Doro.


We headed home and just before heading back to base, we booked our trip for the next day: A boat tour to Staffa and an island filled with sea birds. Quite expensive, but we were positive that it was worth it.

The next morning we waited at the pier (sorry, Mercedes, I meant pear) to be loaded onto a small but fast boat and quickly boost of towards the bird island.





These islands were inhabited by vikings many hundred years ago. They built homes atop these steep cliffs that were impossible to take by force. So they headed out, raided the surrounding lands and came back in case of trouble to their safe havens on the islands. Today there is still a number of stone buildings located on top of the cliffs.

Soon we reached the bird island. The tour group followed the big white arrow.


And there they were: Puffins. Little sea birds that constantly have this slightly concerned look on their faces that makes them so extremely cute. They are not shy and so you can approach up to a meter or so before they waddle away. In the cutest way possible.

This was the first and only time I missed a good tele lens on my fuji x100s or the Canon 5D. The 35 mm is perfectly fine for 99 % of the cases, but here I would have liked to get better close ups of the cute puffins. Other members of our tour group came prepared, with camouflaged 400 mm lenses and other fancy equipment. All the shots below are digital crops. Luckily the 5D offers over 20 MP to crop out what you need.

From Doro.
From Doro.
From Doro.
From Doro.



From Doro.


When we circled around a corner of the island a massive storm of noise blasted towards us. It came from a rock filled with hundreds and thousands of birds. They were all constantly screaming at a deafening volume. When we turned around the next corner of the island, everything was dead quiet again.

From Doro.
From Doro.


From Doro.
From Doro.

After our tête à tête with the puffins we hopped back on the boat and continued our journey to Staffa. Staffa doesn’t feature lots of concerned birds but a rather spectacular geology. Basalt pillars seem to rise from the sea, forming a cave and a large plateau. The pillars of Staffa are the counterpart to the hexagonal pillars of Giant’s Causeway. The story though is told differently in Scotland. Where the Irish told a story of the glorious and smart victory of Finn MacCool over the Scottish giant the Scottish just tell the story of a rock throwing battle during which Staffa and the Causeway were created.

Scientist recently discovered though that the pillars originate from cooled lava, turning into basalt which have then been elevated through geology. Science – ruining everything since … uh … in former times.

From Doro.
The boat in front is our vessel, the other is its sister ship doing the same trip but from South Mull.
From Doro.


From Doro. I do have to say that the colours of the countryside and the flora are just great in Scotland.
From Doro.
From Doro.

The cave in Staffa sounds more promising than it looks then in real life. You can only enter it for a few meters. It is impressive to those huge basalt pillars though.

After a short while everyone hopped back on board and we returned to Tobermory. Unfortunately we didn’t get to see any whales or dolphins along the way but how could they compete with puffins anyway?

I can only recommend the boat tour, it is pricey, but opens up to places that are otherwise inaccessible. Staffa Tours did a great job, but there are other services around that go from other places and at different times.

Tune in for next time when we climb Mount Doom Ben Lomond.

This site is proudly served without any cookies. Scrolling through this site says you're ok with this. what?

This site doesn't use cookies. I'm not tracking you, remembering you or dropping any cookies on your machine just for fun. Please enjoy this cookie-free space on the internet.