Where the past is in touching distance

Summer being on its way, before the season of midges, I took a friend to visit Appin, in Argyll. We were staying, as it chanced, on Isle of Eriska, until recently the fiefdom of Robin Buchanan-Smith, a retired Church of Scotland chaplain to St Andrews University.

Robin had come upon this mini-island paradise during the 1970s on a yachting excursion, and it was love at first sight.

Loyally supported by his wife Sheena, he purchased the 300- acre estate and together they transformed the 19th century 20-bedroom baronial house that went with it into one of Scotland's most elegant and welcoming hotels.

Abluff, engaging character, Robin passed away in April, but I am happy to be able to report that Isle of Eriska continues to thrive under his two sons Beppo and Chay. My visit this time was brief but reassuring, not least to confirm that Highland hospitality remains unchanged, but that in this troubled world there are some physical things that can never be spoiled.

And by that I mean the scenery of Scotland's West Coast. Whatever the weather, it dazzles with its ever changing light.

On Isle of Eriska I took a pre-dinner walk onto the hill to watch a white sun lower itself over the steel shadows of Lismore and Mull across the Lynn of Lorne. To the South lay the town of Oban, Kerrera, the islands of the Inner Hebrides, and the vast expanse of the Atlantic Ocean. To the East, over my shoulder, shone Loch Creran, with the looming wilderness of Glencoe and Rannoch Moor beyond.

The ...

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• By : Roddy Martine
• In : Roddy Martine's World
• Issue : 21
• Page : 7
• Words : 667