This is not an ordinary post! It is an extraordinary post for extraordinary times. It’s a sad tale of bright-eyed hopes being dashed on the jagged coronavirus rocks of outrageous fortune. Perhaps that’s overstating a bit … but only a bit! Okay, okay, what we are trying to tell you is that there were no scones at the Tobermory Bakery. But let’s start at the beginning.

In brief, I was having one of these special days you have every year and Pat thought we should spend it in Tobermory. A mini-adventure sailing to the Isle of Mull and reliving some old memories. The town itself holds many memories.

Safe haven

The last time I was here was on the return leg of a sailing trip to St Kilda. Out in the Atlantic, the weather had been a diabolical Force 10 – 12 and I was never so glad to see these brightly coloured houses, especially the Mishnish pub … a safe haven indeed!

As you know we don’t do silly things like that any more, we just make copious contributions to the Royal National Lifeboat Institution and spend our free time looking for scones. For this trip, we had set our sights on the Tobermory Bakery which boasted an excellent scone reputation.

We love ferries because they always take us somewhere exciting. We’re easily excited! To navigate to our destination we had to use the services of a Calmac Ferry called the Isle of Mull. We were on a package that included the return ferry fare, 10% off your breakfast on the boat and a return bus from Craignure to Tobermory … £38 for the two of us. There would be four hours set aside to wander around Tobermory.

Irresponsible

It only takes 45 minutes to get from Oban to Mull and by the time we had done a bit of bird spotting from the deck we were too late to cash in on the 10% breakfast discount. Damn, disappointment number one! Disappointment number two really because there were no birds either. It was a beautiful day though and when we arrived at Craignure a double-decker bus was waiting to take us on the last leg. Somehow it never occurred to us that the bus would be a double-decker. The boat had been very quiet and the bus was too. We got seats at the very front of the top deck, like a couple of excited kids. The reason everything was quiet of course was the coronavirus outbreak. We were feeling vaguely irresponsible for being out and about but then again we feel that way all the time.

The memories started almost right away. The bus had barely started when it took us down a tiny single-track road through the forest to the Fishnish terminal. That’s where the little ferry comes in from Lochaline on Ardnamurchan, the most westerly point on the UK mainland. Last time we were here, about 50 years ago, there was only a concrete ramp and a waste paper basket but now there was a hut as well. Fishnish has been developed! This was also the scene of Pat’s first and last encounter with a wood wasp. This harmless but fearsome-looking three-inch-long insect innocently landed on her shoulder. Never seen her move so fast. One minute she was sitting beside me and the next she was about 50 yards away. Anyway, it was great being able to do the hour-long trip with such a high vantage point. The views were sensational!

The Mishnish

Pat had lured me to Mull with the promise of a bottle of Tobermory single malt. The first thing we noticed as we entered the town was that the distillery was closed … coronavirus, arrrgghh! Disappointment number three! Why had we bothered? That only left the scones to look forward to. After a very pleasant walk around the coast to the Tobermory cannon, we headed for a pre-scone drink in the legendary Mishnish bar. Many a good night has been had in here on sailing trips. It was great to be back.

Then, at last, it was scone time. The Tobermory Bakery is just along from the Mishnish so we happily ambled along in the glorious sunshine. As I went to take a picture of the bakery Pat went in to place our order.

Don’t eat the pies

Before I had finished taking the picture Pat was coming back out … no scones! Sacre bleu! All the other cafés were shut … coronavirus. Devastation! Disappointment number four. Not really their fault, with everywhere else being closed they just hadn’t made enough to cope with the extra demand. The expectation was that this place would get a topscone award, however, it was not to be. We will return to test these scones another day though we may give the pies a miss.

Instead of eating scones we bought some postcards to send to our collection of brats that masquerade as granddaughters. After sitting writing them out in the rather comfortable Tobermory Hotel we went to the Post Office … closed, coronavirus! There wasn’t even a post box! Disappointment number five! Our bus driver, however, said he would stop at Salen, about halfway back to Craignure, and Pat could get off and post them at the Post Office there. As it happened there was a post box before Salen and he pulled in so close she didn’t even have to get off. The other passengers all thought it was hilarious. Only on the islands, that’s why we love them.

Normally, the islands have a markedly different way of life. They are independent and practical people who just get on with things when the mainland can be floundering. This virus thing is different, however. They can’t just carry on when the shellfish industry has completely collapsed and tourism is being strangled. There is a possibility that the ferries may be stopped in order that the islands do not become infected. That’s great for stopping infection and if anyone can cope with isolation it’s the islanders, however, cutting off their livelihoods as well would be a calamity. But what is the alternative?

A fresh look at who we are

Coronavirus has exposed so many cracks in our economy and our society. The gig economy is shown for what it is, an almighty disaster for those on short term and zero-hours contracts. With Richard Branson appealing from his private island for a taxpayer bailout of his many companies it shows us that inequality is now the norm, it is deeply embedded in our society. However, it also shows us who the really important people are … usually the lowest paid, the cleaners and the care workers. We all depend on them. It shows us that across the world we are all much the same with the same concerns and worries. We all depend on each other.

Back home now and isolating ourselves as per Boris’s garbled instructions. We are being responsible, it’s a weird feeling. There are scones in reserve however so don’t expect any immediate respite from sconology. Take care, everyone!

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