The Paps of Jura

We were delighted with the Jura Hotel when we arrived last night. It’s a typical old fashioned Scottish hotel in many ways, but has been well kept, is very clean, and the en-suite bathroom in our room is brand new. The location is lovely; right on the water with beautiful views of the sea and some wee islands, with Kintyre in the distance. 

This morning, after a hearty breakfast, I dropped James off at the bridge 5 km north of Craighouse for his hill-walking day. His aim was to climb the three Paps of Jura, so named because they are conical in shape, like breasts (yes, three breasts!) The highest one, Beinn an Oir, is a Corbett, another one to tick off on James’ list, and the main reason for our trip which is my Christmas present to James.

I decided to head up as far north as possible in the island. The main, and only public road in the island, is shaped like a giant letter J. We crossed over from Islay at the bottom left of the J, and today I headed up to the top of it. The road is single track with passing places, and it’s a surprisingly long way, but I was in no hurry and took my time, enjoying the views of hills and moorland and sea. I arrived eventually at the Lussa estate, where I had a bit of an unwanted adventure. 

When the road passes the distillery and farm buildings at the estate, it then descends to an absolutely beautiful bay. I decided to park the car and have a walk around. I carefully backed onto a piece of grass, which seemed firm because I tested it first with my feet. Meanwhile, lots of mummy sheep and their beautiful little twin and triplet lambs went past me, and there were some geese on the beach. Two friendly ladies rode past me on horseback and warned me that the grass (which is actually going to be a hayfield in the summer) is not as firm as it seemed. I was embarrassed to have backed on to their hayfield and went to move my car straight away. Sure enough it was stuck fast and when I tried to move it, the wheels just span. Claire Fletcher, who turned out to be the lady laird, phoned her husband Andy to ask him to tow me out of the field. She said that it would take him a little while to arrive because he was dehorning calves this morning. The delay didn’t bother me because I was just grateful to get the help and I went for a little walk up and down the bay. Soon Andy arrived and towed me out of the field. He said that they used to live in the West End of Glasgow and if his father hadn’t died, they probably wouldn’t have moved back to Jura, but they felt that they should hand it on to future generations. They live in such a beautiful place but I bet it’s hard work to make ends meet. For example he mentioned that they have tied cottages on the estate for workers, and they are now being charged double rates because they are deemed second homes, which is really not quite true or fair. To say thank you I went to the distillery in which Claire is a partner, and bought some Lussa gin. The lady in the distillery who sold me the gin told me that they were glad to hear that we were staying in the Jura Hotel because it’s really struggling to get visitors especially with the ferry problems over the past few years; people are reluctant to book holidays if transport is going to be a problem. 

I collected James from the bridge at 5.30 p.m. arriving in perfect time when he was only about 100 yards away from the car park, he was ravenous for his tasty dinner back at the hotel and told me of his adventures including some scary sounding slides down scree fields. He had managed to climb all three hills. That was a very big walk for him today and he was pleased to have achieved it. He fell asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.