![]() This was as good a spot as any to set up for the night, and while pitching my tent I almost stepped on an adder a reminder that I didn’t exactly have the place all to myself. The remaining few kilometres led down into Glenbatrick Bay, a large sandy beach with a hunting lodge that’s mostly used by tourists but now seemed empty. The valley was windswept and utterly desolate, with only one abandoned fisherman’s hut adorning the lakeshore. ![]() The day’s hike took me past the southern slopes of Beinn an Oir and into the glen containing one of the island’s larger lochs. So I packed up my tent and set off towards (hopefully) drier grounds. Originally I’d had half a mind to climb Beinn an Oir, but with weather like this there really was no point. I also found some deer droppings around my tent, indicating that I’d had some company during the night. The only upside was that the midges had mercifully disappeared. And today those changes were not for the better… Whereas I could see the sun shining elsewhere, I was being battered by fierce winds and streaming rain. Somehow the area between the Paps seems to have its own little microclimate with very changeable weather. So instead I quickly prepared my instant meal and retreated to my tent for some well-deserved reading and relaxation, accompanied by a generous helping of Jura Prophecy. I had envisioned myself leisurely fishing the lake to try to catch some supper, but unfortunately the midges applied their infuriating ability to make life hell. Having started off from Amsterdam that morning, it had been a long day, and around sunset I decided to set up camp near a small lochan at the base of Beinn an Oir, Jura’s tallest peak. Coal Ila distillery is visible on the right The ferry is headed back to the mainland. I soon came across my first herd of deer, which would be dotting the landscape throughout this trip. The midges were out in force though, giving me all the motivation required to keep on moving. After about two hours, the path started sloping upwards, a fact that was not lost on my calves, particularly given my heavy backpack. This presented some lovely scenery, with Caol Ila and Bunnahabhain visible just across the Sound of Islay, their distinctive whitewashed walls blinking in the sunlight. The first few kilometres were easy going though, on a gravel track running north along the coastline. Most of the route would have no obvious trail, so I’d have to navigate my own way using map and compass. This was my first time wild camping and I’d set myself the ambitious target of rounding the island all the way to Ardlussa. As the bus picked up all the foot passengers and the ferry made its way back across the water, I could not help but feel a little lonely and apprehensive. So I got right onto the Feolin Ferry, which carried me the remaining kilometre or so from Islay to Jura. It felt strange landing on Islay and not staying to visit at least a few distilleries, but I had decided Jura was where I would be going. It was a lovely boat ride, with porpoises accompanying us part of the way and the Paps of Jura clearly visible across the water. Travelling to Jura inevitably involves a short trip to Islay, since there is no direct Calmac ferry service. But it’s nice to reminisce over a whisky, so I poured myself a dram of Jura Turas-Mara and started writing. In the spirit of full disclosure, I have to admit that I undertook this trip as much as three years ago, before I started this blog. Suffice it to say, I liked Jura’s whiskies, and decided it was time I explored the island on which they are made. At any time you may expect to bump into one of the island’s 5000 deer or see a golden eagle soaring overhead. Not that Jura is lifeless quite the contrary. Bleak, bare and boggy, Jura is the perfect wilderness, a truly remote piece of Scotland located just 10 miles from the mainland. Although Jura is the 5 th largest island in the Hebrides, it has a population of only 200 people. While this might make sense from a whisky perspective, there are plenty of reasons to give Jura a visit, particularly if you love the great outdoors. So inevitably, most visitors are drawn towards Jura’s more famous neighbour for finding out how the Water of Life is made. But here’s the rub: while Islay boasts as many as eight distilleries, the Isle of Jura has just the one. And while the scenery is beautiful enough, when you’re on the west coast, you can’t help but shift your gaze across the Sound of Islay, where the Paps of Jura beckon on the horizon, tantalisingly close. ![]() On a previous trip to Islay, I explored practically all corners of the island.
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