Today is Peters birthday, and he is soooo excited about spending it on Iona. Iona is the home of his family seat, the Maclean Duarts. “That’s my castle!” He proudly exclaimed as we passed the looming edifice that burst from craggy rock and glowered over sea. He was delighted to find the remains of some ancestor entombed at Iona Abbey. “I’m so glad you could all come to celebrate with me on MY island! He chuffed.
My birthday gift to him? I’m buying his wine and dessert tonight at dinner (we’re heading back to the local pub because it was delicious!), and loaning him storage space in my suitcase for his ever growing stash of newly purchased books and souvenirs. “They’re not souvenirs! They are pilgrim relics!”
The girls are AWOL today, romping across hills and fells like feral wild women, climbing the mighty Dun-I (the massive hill pictured yesterday), and finding a secluded cove to swim in. I’m sitting happily in the sun, and apologizing to the flock of local sheep who have wandered over for a visit, because tonight I’m planning to try the lamb dish.
Speaking of ancestors, I was pleased to find the hostel associated with the Iona Abbey is called the Macleod centre, after my predecessors.