Having passed so many times already through the likes of Ullapool and Mallaig en route to and from various islands further north, it was a refreshing change to set out today for a ferry from somewhere new. I boarded the 10.36am departure from Glasgow Queen Street full of optimism that the weather would be better than the forecast for OS map 46 Tiree and Coll. The plan was to spend a night in Tiree first, and then move to its less populous (and more easterly) neighbour Coll for a second night off the mainland. Saturday is one of the only chances you get to make the whole trip in the same day from Glasgow to Tiree. Most days, the only ferry departure from Oban is at 7am. It all made perfect sense.
This train to Oban has a very special carriage that can carry 20 (twenty!) bikes, with room for maybe 4 more in an adjoining conventional carriage, should that allocation ever be used up. I have seen nothing like it in any other train and I hope it may be a sign of better things to come. Today there were five cyclists aboard, so we spread ourselves generously. I was both the only male and the only British cyclist, along with a solo American, and younger group of 2 French and one Swiss cyclists, heading out to Barra to start the Hebridean Way. They knew already that they would be missing their ferry, because they failed to book bike spaces on the earlier train out of Glasgow and found its bike allocation taken. A schoolgirl error, you might say; but they weren’t to know. Nevertheless, they were in robust spirits as they moved freely from English to French and back in their conversations together.
I have seen the scenery on this journey several times now; but it never stops being impressive. The clouds clung to the hillsides today, making the drama of Gare Loch and Loch Long a little more brooding and ethereal. The train was pretty full and all seemed well until we reached a point just after the line splits between the routes to Oban and Fort William. We pulled into Tyndrum Lower and sat still, at which point it was announced we had a technical fault. The train staff did their best; but to no avail. This being a single track line, there was nothing else for it but to go back a stop to Crianlarich, where 2 trains can pass, and then assess our options. It was drizzly and I was still 4 hours cycling from Oban, so I held off on the last ditch option of cycling there until I had better information. In the meantime, and on the up side, there was a tearoom on the platform in Crianlarich (which is little more than a road and rail junction signed from many miles away). So I got in early and enjoyed the chance to stock up on my levels of Earl Grey.
I must say, everyone was very patient and understanding. A train heading south from Fort William arrived and there was much debate. Our train was moved to a siding. The other train then moved platforms (not sure why) which required all its passengers to disembark while it was shunted. Then they all got back on again and waited for the next northbound train, so they could leave. When it came, we all piled on board the front 2 carriages ONLY, since this train was one of the splitting type and the rear coaches were bound for Mallaig. Every seat was taken. By some miracle, our part of the train had precisely five free bike spaces, once all of the suitcases had been moved, so all the cyclists got on. We made it to Oban a bit after 4pm, which in the circumstances was a decent effort; but my ferry had, as I feared, already sailed. And that meant sitting down in Costa with a very late lunch and replanning my evening. I was lucky to find a room. Oban is really busy. I called my new hotel from the shelter of a bus stop outside Costa, right by the ferry terminal and the clock tower in the centre of town. The lady answering said to me ”I can see you from my first floor window. I’m just over the road!”. I was surprised, but also relieved, to find that at 6.30am tomorrow morning I would have such a short walk to get my early ferry to Coll!
My bike is spending the night in the carpeted splendour of the downstairs hallway, a notch up from its usual quarters. So in the end it has all worked out OK. Except that, once again, I will start a new coast to coast journey with the chance to visit only one island instead of the intended two. It still counts, of course. And, unlike Rum, I have been to Tiree before. Twice. And, like today, the weather there was rubbish both times. So much for its grand claim to be ”Scotland’s Sunshine Isle”. It allegedly basks in more hours of annual sunlight than just about any other location in the British Isles. Of course it does.
