Jura: Finding the end of the road
The Isle of Jura is a remote island off Scotland’s west coast with a rugged coastline of hidden sandy beaches and swathes of undulating heather moorland. In June 2021 we travelled there with 3 friends for an adventure filled holiday of hiking, wild camping and whiskey, of course.
Jura’s name originates from Dyrøy, meaning ‘deer island’ due to the population of around 6000 red deer on the island which vastly outnumber the 230 human inhabitants. Along most of the east coast of the island is a road but west of this there are no roads and not much sign of humans in general apart from the odd (empty) bothy. We’d been planning a hike on Jura since a previous trip to the neighbouring island of Islay. After minimal persuasion, mainly the promise of whisky, we managed to convince three friends to join us on the hike - Ricky, Pat and Gi.
Having five people involved certainly sped up the planning process and another great bonus was that it was a perfect excuse to get together for ‘Planning Meetings’ aka a few midweek glasses of wine in the 'Adventure Room’ aka our loft. After scrapping a few drunken ideas, we eventually came up with a decent plan of leaving the van at the northernmost section of Jura’s one road and a car further south so that we could head west from the van to the coast, hike down the coast and then back across east to the car.
But before that we had to actually get to Jura. Everyone left work as early as possible on the Friday and we drove from Leeds to St John’s Town of Dalry in Scotland's Galloway Forrest Park. There’s a fabulous pub / bnb there called the Clachan Inn (highly recommend) with lovely staff, great beer and delicious food. Although, we did have to pull ourselves away from the beer at a relatively reasonable hour on this occasion so that we could leave early the next morning and catch the first ferry from Adrossan to the Isle of Arran. We love Arran and have visited a number of times in the past, it has some great hiking and two fantastic distilleries. Unfortunately it was a brief trip this time as we drove around the island straight to the port to catch our second ferry of the day across to the Kintyre peninsula. It’s then only a 15 minute drive across the peninsula to get to Kennacraig where our third and final ferry of the day set sail for Islay. Due to reaching Islay quite late in the evening we had booked to camp outside the little pub just next to the Port Asking ferry terminal. Our hopes to sit by the water supping beer were soon scuppered by the seemingly thousands of midges that had decided this was their spot. So instead we all squeezed into Pat’s van and drank our beer and whisky there, as we have done countless times before in various locations around the UK.
Because three ferries just isn’t enough, we then had to get ferry number four to finally reach Jura. This is a tiny ferry that only takes 10mins to cross the small, albeit fast flowing, channel of water between the islands and the excitement was starting to build as the ferry docked. Once on Jura we drove north until the one main road ended which takes about an hour with numerous stops along the way to take in spectacular views of beaches, fields of deer and mountains. Ricky’s car was left in a small layby and we continued on to the car park where the road ends. As you might expect, the car park was a very small gravel area with space for only about 6 vehicles at a squeeze so it was half full by the time we had our two vans there. As usual, a last-minute backpack check was then required and with everyone hurriedly chucking in things we’d almost forgotten.
Day one. Finally we set off across the heather.
For a majority of people it’s a strange feeling to be hiking with everything you need on your back. For us, this strangeness was exacerbated by the pandemic which had only just started to calm down so we had grown even more accustomed than usual to the luxuries of modern day living in the UK. We had allowed ourselves to each bring one luxury item on the trip; Gav had a fishing rod, Gi an axe (he also had an aeropress complete with some fine ground coffee but apparently this was a necessity rather than luxury item) and I had a hip flask filled with homemade sloe gin. Pat injured his knee not long before we left for Jura so didn’t have capacity to carry anything too heavy, his ‘luxury items’ were therefore a knee brace and walking poles… Lastly there was Ricky who had only brought the necessities, organised neatly into dry bags. We didn’t expect anything else :)
Our target for day 1 was to reach Glengarrisdale Bay. The small path soon petered out long before we reached the bothy there. When we did it turned out to be a pretty creepy bothy filled with stag heads and impressive antlers, very rudimentary bunks and items like bottles and kitchenware which had clearly been sat there for many, many years. However the beach was a beautiful little bay and signified us reaching the western shores of the island. In a couple of hours the sun would be setting so we set off with the aim to reach a cliffside area which according to the map would be flat enough to camp on.
Indeed, on reaching the spot it offered expansive views out to sea. Ricky had his own tent, Gi and Pat shared a tent to save on weight and Gav and I shared one too. We pitched up with plans to sit out for some dinner and a couple of cheeky swigs from the hip flask. But in true form, the Scottish weather had other ideas. Just after the tents were up, cloud filled the skies and the rain set in so we all hurried into our respective tents to take shelter. One hour later it became apparent that the rain wasn’t going to end anytime soon and in fact was only getting heavier so we all set about cooking dinner separately in the tent porches, ensuring adequate ventilation of course. Conversation was quite humorous with us having to pass messages between tents like ‘Chinese Whispers’ as the rain and wind were creating so much noise. Not the social meal we had envisaged but I can’t really complain because it must have been much worse for Gi and Pat who had very little room to manoeuvre in the small tent they were sharing all evening and night.
Day Two. Rain has ceased. Wind caused some disruption as tents were dismantled.
Our plan was to hug the coastline as much as possible whilst heading south as far as Shian Bay. There was another beach en route that we were aiming for as a lunch spot. The hike to the first beach was relatively straightforward and we passed a good water source in the form of a decent sized stream where Pat decided that a head dip was in order to refresh himself. The hard part was clambering down the cliffs to the beach itself so we branched out and scoured the area for the route of least resistance. It was a relief to all reach the beach in one piece, especially Pat with his recent knee injury. We sat and ate lunch whilst contemplating how remote we were and how unideal it would be if one of us became unwell or injured… best not to dwell on. A sail boat did pass by at a distance so we decided that flagging down such a vessel might be an option if required (hopefully not though!).
As per the OS map Maclean’s Skull Cave was just further up the beach so of course we were tempted up and indeed found some pretty impressive and large caves where you can imagine islanders of old taking refuge if caught out in a storm. This was the site of a clan feud in 1647 involving the death of a member of Clan Maclaine of Lochbuie. The human skull was last photographed at this site in 1972 and certainly by 1976 it was no longer there. As per the legend, whenever the skull disappears it always comes back… After some time searching we found many animal skulls but nothing resembling a human skull.
There were also large stacks and archways created by coastal erosion so an impromptu photoshoot was in order to capture their rugged beauty before moving on. Shian Bay was calling and Gi’s promise of building a fire and making use of his luxury item (the axe!) on the beach for us to huddle around that evening. The terrain was pretty tough underfoot with the never-ending thick heather and we were weaving back and forth to make use of the widest contour lines. Gav, Ricky and I were relishing the orienteering opportunity but trying not to bore everyone with it or hold up progress with constant map reading breaks.
Once we reached it, the bay didn’t disappoint. It’s a beautiful, large sandy beach with lots of flat space for tent pitching and dry-ish driftwood for fire building. As well as that, Ricky and Gav were quick to find a small stream to make use of Gav’s luxury item. The campfire was perfect to sit around as we each cooked up our freeze-dried meals and chatted about various adventures we’d like to complete in the future. All the while, the sound of small waves lapping on the beach and sea birds pottering about their business provided soothing background noise.
Day Three. Nothing better than waking up on a beach with the promise of a pub.
The hike back east to Ricky’s car lay before us. Again, there were no paths at all so we trapsed across the bouncy heather creating a route as best we could and hoping that we’d come out on the road near to where the car was parked - what an exciting navigational challenge…! The land was fairly undulating and in the distance we could see the Paps of Jura to the south. Gav wandered off to take some photos looking back at us and it turns out that our silhouettes looked just like a Beatles album cover that never was. After a few hours we came over a hilltop and in the distance could just about make out the road. A final stretch through the grasses took us out onto the tarmac road and we all commented how strange it felt to be walking on solid ground again, almost like when you get off a boat and still have sea legs. Only 5 minutes down the road we found Ricky’s car and were pretty chuffed with the successful navigation to get us back there from the beach that morning. We all squeezed into the car with our backpacks too for the drive up to the vans.
Although we’d only been out for a couple of nights it felt like much longer due to how disconnected we were from the outside world during that time. We swung by the Lussa gin distillery on the drive off the island and felt like weary travellers as we greeted the lady working there. After purchasing a couple of bottles we made our way back to Islay on the ferry and drove to Port Charlotte. It didn’t take long before we found ourselves in the pub reminiscing on the trip and dreaming up future plans over some food and drinks. It was perfect sitting in a small room of the pub looking out to the sea as we drunk our beers.
Subsequent travel to other countries has made us appreciate more than ever Scotland’s Right to Roam which facilitates trips such as this. There is a freedom and empowerment that comes from route planning and not always following paths (once you have the navigational skills to make this possible!). Looking back, this is what made the Jura hike into the adventure that it was - exploration, solitude and time spent with friends.