Still bewildered with the rather impressive beauty of such a tiny beach, with the wind pretty much as calm as the wind can get on Islay and the sun almost on its highest point of the day, we put our sunglasses on, rolled down the windows and meandered back up towards Port Charlotte and decided to lunch at Lochindaal Seafood Kitchen for some lunch and finally enjoy some fresh, locally caught fresh fish. They were on the same routine as the seals and whales from the previous article, so we walked down the road to have some lunch at the local hotel.

With the amount of unusually harsh daylight and our eyes fixed on the Old Lochindaal Distillery Warehouses where some of the Bruichladdich stock is alleged to be resting still, we are trying to figure out how it must have been in earlier days when there was distilling in Port Charlotte. With our focus on the old buildings, we completely ignored nature. 

Nature was trying to tell us something – loudly, and directly above our heads, in the form of what must have been an albatross at least – from the details we’ll release in a moment. Just having crossed the bridge over the Abhainn Gearach, the rustle in the tree above us gets loud. The rustle became a hundred voices. The hundred became one thousand. 

Then, still completely oblivious to the voices and captured by the buildings, Thomas feels something warm, falling with high speed, in the middle of his head. The thousand voices became one loud laughter and the hand that automatically shot up, holding a handful.

Nature had just called form said albatross (sized crow). The bastard.

What can one do better than laugh about it and the locals assured us it was a good omen to be spat on by a bird and called us very lucky with this event. Sure. The crows flew further to their next victim and a messy clean up in the bathroom sink of the hotel, we calmly sat down for a very good Octomore burger (also available with local lamb at the time), we enjoyed yet another beautiful view over the Port Charlotte beach and the clear view on the other side with Gartbreck in the distance. 

With our newly acquired luck we decided to send the drone up for some shots of the Loch Indaal House Lighthouse and hit the road again. Passing Bridgend we stopped at the Islay House Square to visit the shops there with Mackinnon’s Marmalade, Islay Gin and the Islay Whisky Vault before heading towards the other side of the island, back to the Kildalton three – and beyond.

Another swerving path starting right after the junction to Ardbeg leads to the name giver of this part of the island; the Kildalton Cross. Parking the car there and having walked for a bit, having clear vistas of the sound of Islay where the Calmac ferry comes in at Port Askaig. With backdrops of the mountains of Jura, the green hills of our current location, forests on one end and so many sheep and lambs on the other, we just had to pull out Donatella for one more droneflight before before her battery was depleted.

All in all, including the bird guano, it was a beautiful day. One filled with exploring the South of the island from one West to East, catching quite a bit of the much needed vitamin D. We came home to our tiny cottage in Bowmore for one last night, with a smile on our face. We were looking forward to getting to another accommodation. Nothing wrong with the place per se, but we are nomads and wanted to move on. At the same time, we felt a bit sad, because it also meant we were already halfway to our stay on Islay. 

Packing the suitcase again, then one more dinner at Peatzeria and crashing on the sofa after not having to be able to resist the dessert menu – again, we gave in to the last bits of Doctor Who episodes before we would move out the next morning.

Cheers,

Thomas & Ansgar