Lismore and Colonsay: Island Pilgrimage Grand Tours of the Scottish Islands

There is something magical

about the sight of a distant island on the horizon.

And for some of the earliest travellers,

these were very special destinations.

For centuries, many islands were considered sacred places,

where mystics and holy men sought refuge to contemplate

the mysteries of the universe.

I'm setting out to discover the magic

of Scotland's amazing island riches.

There are nearly 300 offshore islands,

surrounding 6,000 convoluted miles of coast.

And we boast more holy isles than any other European country.

We are, as my mother would say, blessed with them.

I'm embarking on an island pilgrimage in the footsteps

of the saints, to Lismore, Colonsay and Oronsay.

My journey takes me to the West Coast,

and three islands of the Inner Hebrides, starting with Lismore

and then travelling south to the islands of Colonsay and Oronsay.

My grand tour begins with a short ferry crossing from Oban,

following a route once taken by the dead.

It's said that in ancient times,

when a king died, his body was rowed across the sea to

the island of Lismore, where it was buried in sacred ground.

Now, these were pagan royals, kings of the Western Picts, who flourished

here long before the arrival of Christianity and the saints.

I've come to explore Lismore's ancient, royal and sacred past.

This isn't a big island, it's only about 10 miles long

and just a mile wide.

And, crucially for my weary legs, it isn't too hilly.

Translated from the Gaelic, Lismore means "the great enclosure".

Now, this could refer to a long-lost royal garden,

or to the type of enclosure associated with an early monastery.

And a monastery was indeed founded here,

by one of the missionary heroes of the early Christian Church.

Now, this little church is known, rather grandly,

as the Cathedral Church of St Moluag.

It actually occupies the site of a 13th-century monastery

dedicated to St Moluag himself.

Now, St Moluag was a contemporary of St Columba and he came to

Lismore 1,500 years ago to convert the heathen Picts to Christianity.

Here in this small church is a beautiful stained-glass window,

depicting St Moluag.

And beside him is St Columba.

They look very holy and saintly, almost meek and mild.

But if you think being a monk in those early days

was all about prayer and meditation, then think again.

Here on Lismore, it was a very different story.

The Celtic saints were a tough, almost warlike bunch.

Now, legend tells us that St Columba

and St Moluag had a rivalry to found a monastery here on Lismore,

and they decided to settle it by having a boat race.

St Columba, who was a man of great, prodigious, physical feats,

was soon in the lead. But St Moluag refused to be defeated.

And seeing an axe at his feet,

he picked it up and cut off his own finger

and threw it onto the shore, saying,

"My own flesh and blood takes first possession of this island

"and I claim it in the name of the Lord."

Now, St Columba is said to have taken the huff

and cursed the island and St Moluag,

and hoped he would be really miserable here,

which, I have to say, is not really very Christian!

St Moluag may be less well-known than St Columba, but he played

a hugely important role in converting Scotland to Christianity.

He died in 592, after creating more than 100 monasteries,

and it is believed his remains were returned here to Lismore.

'Although no-one knows where his final resting place is,

'there is one remarkable holy relic which survives from his time,

'and which is kept here at the home

'of the Baron of Bachuill, Niall Livingstone.'

Pleased to meet you. I'm looking forward to seeing this.

This is the crozier of St Moluag.

I'll just put it down here, so we can see it.

What an extraordinary looking relic. What is it made of? It's blackthorn.

And that is the pastoral staff of St Moluag.

So, this is really ancient, this is 1,500 years old? Almost 1,500 years.

Come down in the family since then.

Don't you feel a tremendous kind of burden of responsibility

on your shoulders, to be the custodian for something so ancient?

Makes you feel very humble.

St Moluag was famous for founding 120 monasteries.

He converted the Picts of Alba.

You just stand in awe of him.

Can I touch it? Absolutely.

I mean, it is extraordinary to think that 1,500 years ago,

a holy man was holding this baton as he was converting an entire nation.

Yes. And it's a potent relic.

Well, yes, people were more scared

of swearing a false oath

on the crozier

than they were on the Bible.

Because something nasty always happened.

There is no doubt that this has amazing powers.

Have there ever been miracles associated with it? Well, yes.

Traditionally, it's been used for all sorts of cures.

It was supposed to be good for women in labour, curing madness,

and there have been three miracles I'm aware of in my lifetime,

attributed to St Moluag and this crozier.

So, a powerful piece of wood. Yeah.

Very much so. In many ways, it's quite a plain looking object. Yes.

But it's actually terrifyingly old and I feel slightly anxious,

having it in my hands. I'll put it very carefully back down there.

'Whether or not you believe Niall's claims about the miraculous

'properties of this relic, being the custodian of an artefact

'as old as this is something of a worry.'

We are neurotic about fire.

We have it in a fireproof safe.

So far... I was going to say, "Touch wood!"

But that's not appropriate. So far, it has survived.

Everyone tells me, when the ferry is not working, why do I need a ferry?

I should just be able to walk across the water!

But I point out that my wife can't,

and I don't want to risk the shopping getting wet.

and I don't want to risk the shopping getting wet.

The peace and tranquillity of Lismore might have been what

attracted St Moluag and his monks, but the island's strategic

position also attracted some unwelcome visitors -

Vikings.

And the ruined castle in front of me, down by the shore,

is a relic from a very bloody period in the island's history.

These ruins are all that is left of a MacDougall castle

which was built on the site of a Viking fortress.

The Vikings came first

to rob and plunder the riches of St Moluag's monastery.

They later conquered the island and settled here,

but things didn't always go their own way.

During one early Viking raid, all the islanders left Lismore,

except for one very brave and strong woman.

Her name was Eilidh Mor.

Eilidh was so enraged

when the Vikings tried to steal her favourite cow

that she hurled herself at them

and killed three Vikings with her bare hands,

and then she dislodged an enormous boulder

and rolled it onto the shore, killing the Viking chief.

After that, they all left, leaving Eilidh to keep her favourite cow.

Leaving the castle, I make my way towards the empty

and deserted southern end of Lismore.

This is just the place to appreciate the island's sheltered

location, enfolded by high mountains on either side.

But ahead, the open sea beckons.

Out there is the Firth of Lorne,

studded with beautiful islands, many of them holy places,

where the monks and saints of the old Celtic Church lived out

their lives in prayerful meditation.

And just on the horizon is the next destination in my grand tour

of the Scottish islands.

But before I head to Colonsay

and Oronsay, I'm joining bestselling author

and long-time island enthusiast Alexander McCall Smith on his yacht.

There's something very special about islands.

I find them very quiet and inspiring places.

Creator of the hugely successful

No.1 Ladies' Detective Agency novels,

Sandy can often be found sailing among the islands of the West Coast.

Sandy, do you think there is something about the nature

of an island that appeals to the creative imagination?

Because you are a writer, obviously, I mean, do you derive

satisfaction and inspiration from being in these places?

Well, I think, insofar as an island is a very spiritual place,

it's a complete world, in a sense,

you are away from the rest of humanity when you're on an island,

it probably assists creativity, in that one can think.

Writers have long sought the isolation of islands.

Not far from here is the Isle of Jura,

where George Orwell famously wrote 1984.

In fact, whether it's Daniel Defoe,

HG Wells or Robert Louis Stevenson,

there is something about an island

that lends itself to intrigue and drama.

I can still remember the thrill

of first reading Enid Blyton's Secret Island.

There is something delightful about the idea of a small island,

it takes you back to childhood in some ways, does it not? The thought

of a clearly defined area of land which you can call your own.

Yes, as children, we have a very small world around us, the world

is small, and I suppose we have some memory of the security of that.

And later on, if one lives on an island, which you can see all

the boundaries of, then you have that sense of security,

sort of womblike comfort.

I can see how, for the early saints, islands made a great deal

of sense, they are very spiritual places and very quiet places.

That fascination has led Sandy to buy the Cairns of Coll,

a string of tiny islands just off the coast of Coll itself.

And he is not the only one who is drawn to the romantic island ideal.

Many people today find it very attractive to go off

and live on an island, there is

often a very strong sense of community on an island.

So, if you have an island such as Colonsay, they find

a tranquillity, a fulfilment, which they may not find in the city.

In search of that fulfilment,

I'm continuing my pilgrimage to Colonsay.

This Hebridean island lies in the path of Atlantic waves,

which have travelled across 3,000 miles of unbroken ocean.

Colonsay may be easily overlooked,

but as this Victorian verse suggests,

it has much to offer visitors.

"Storm tossed traveller On your way

"Pass not lonely Colonsay

"There you will a welcome find

"None more heartfelt, true or kind

"Though the scene looks cold and grey

"Hearts are warm in Colonsay."

All right?

'Today, Colonsay is home to some 120 warm hearts,

'and despite being only 10 miles long by two miles wide,

'there is a rich past to explore here.'

My first stop is the lush surroundings of Colonsay House,

home to the present owners, the Strathcona family.

It was their great-great-grandfather,

Lord Strathcona, a self-made millionaire,

who bought the island in 1905.

He lavished a fortune on the house and its gardens.

Since then, the garden's gone wild, but in a good way.

It's full of exotic, overgrown plants,

and it is into this untamed fantasy garden that

I've come to see a relic of our Celtic past, the Riasg Buidhe Cross.

Now, I'm not altogether sure what to make of this.

It's clearly a Christian symbol of some kind,

and apparently, it dates from between the 5th

and the 7th century AD, so it's pretty ancient.

And there is a cross carved here, that's clear enough,

and strangely, there is a head on top of the cross.

Some people believe this could be a monk, a saint,

or perhaps even Christ himself,

but whoever or whatever it represents,

the whole thing has a pagan feel to it.

And this is made very clear on the other side, which is not quite

so ornate, and which has been carved,

I'm not sure how to put this delicately,

to resemble a large penis.

At least, that is what archaeologists maintain,

and they are more learned than I am in these matters.

Some people believe that the Riasg Buidhe Cross was once

a pagan totem that was transformed into a Christian object by later

stonemasons who added the Christian symbols.

It seems to me that Colonsay is indeed a place

where different influences were absorbed,

and the lines between Christian and pagan traditions were blurred.

I'm heading next to the beautiful Kiloran Bay

to meet local historian Kevin Byrne,

to hear about another example of how early invaders of Colonsay

found themselves influenced by the people they came to conquer.

Kevin, what are we looking for here?

Well, we are close to the site of quite an important

Viking ship burial.

It's the only known Viking ship burial anywhere in which

there are Christian associations.

Why do you think they chose this site?

I think probably for two reasons.

A, it is extraordinarily beautiful, looking out across Kiloran Bay.

This was actually within sight of Iona. Uh-huh.

The association, therefore, with St Columba will have been very important at that time.

So there was a spiritual dimension here already? There certainly was.

In 1882, archaeologists came here to investigate a raised mound.

They discovered that hidden under the sand was a remarkably

well-preserved Viking burial ship.

What would the early archaeologists have seen here?

Well, as far as I can see, it would have been about this long,

in the order of about 30 feet altogether,

and it had been upturned to cover the entire burial site.

Within that burial site, there had been a walled enclosure.

The stones at each end had got a deeply inscribed across.

These were Christian Vikings, then?

Yes, Christianised - they had adopted the signs

and symbols of Christianity.

Within the enclosure, there was a man buried about here,

and he had with him a lot of important grave goods.

He had an iron pot,

he had a long, typical Viking sword,

and there were three coins,

the traditional money offering

buried with the dead

which was to pay the ferryman.

And in particular, the most important feature of all was,

as he was crouched up,

in the cavity there was, protected by his arms,

was an important and very beautiful set of scales

and set of weights which were decorated with inlay on top of lead.

It seems to be a link with Christianity.

The discovery of these scales was hugely significant.

Some early Christians believed that St Michael the Archangel

was responsible for escorting the souls of the dead to heaven.

It was his task to weigh up their sins and virtues

using his set of scales.

It seems as if this departed Viking had got with him

belt and braces - he'd got a coin for the ferryman,

some coins for the ferryman, and he'd also got the symbol

which would make him attractive

to St Michael the Archangel.

When the discovery was made

more than 100 years ago,

it was thought to be

a merchant's grave.

But Kevin believes the evidence

points to it being

the last resting place of someone much more important.

The trappings with which the burial is associated are of such

high status that this seems to me

much more likely to have been the burial site of a local leader.

And the local leader who would spring to mind from that very date

is Jarl Gilli of Colonsay.

Now, if it were to be the grave of Jarl Gilli

it would be particularly interesting,

because his great-grandson was Somerled,

who was the founder of the Lordship of the Isles

and the progenitor of every McDonald on Earth.

So it would be extremely interesting if any of these bones were available,

and if anybody could extract DNA,

to compare the DNA of the incumbent of this grave

with genuine McDonald DNA today.

It would be a very interesting thing if one could go all the way back to that early date.

The techniques of 1882 and 1883 would have been of limited value.

It would be a good time for this important gravesite,

which is acknowledged as of outstanding importance,

to be re-examined by modern archaeology.

It would be a really exciting thing to try to do.

It's amazing to think that on this site a Viking was laid to rest.

Yes, laid to rest here,

and now one of the major displays in the magnificent new museum in Edinburgh.

Do you think there are other graves yet to be discovered?

Yes, I'm sure Colonsay has very many more secrets to reveal.

I'm back on my bike, heading across the island,

and I have to say, all this cycling is thirsty work.

Now, when most people think of the Scottish islands,

their minds turn naturally, at least mine does, to thoughts of whisky.

But on Colonsay they are famous for another drink - beer.

'Living on an island, you need to be self-sufficient,

'especially when it comes to the essentials.'

Hi, Chris.

'I've come to Colonsay Brewery to meet Chris Nesbit.'

So, the population of Colonsay can't be more than 100, 120. 120, yeah.

But you must be selling more beer than that?

Absolutely. During the summer months, the population explodes.

The main business on the island is tourism.

Upwards of 400, perhaps 500 people on the island.

So that's our market.

And even if people don't like the beer,

they'll take some home anyway.

And more and more people do like the beer, so that's quite encouraging.

And since this is the smallest island in the world brewing its own beer,

I suppose this truly is a microbrewery.

Chris and two fellow beer lovers set up the brewery in 2007

and are now producing around 1,700 bottles a week.

This is a hot water tank and this is a chilled water tank. Right.

The fermenters are down here.

Uh-huh. That is where you add the yeast, is it?

Yeah, you add the east into the top of these vessels.

And it sits in there for about four or five days fermenting.

And at the end of that period of time we crash cool it.

Is this a full-time job?

We still run the brewery as a part-time enterprise.

We just feel we have so many other jobs that we do on the island,

as most island people do.

What else do you do?

I'm a volunteer firefighter. Right.

And I work at the airport where we provide fire cover,

and I do the radio for the aircraft coming in.

So it's all interesting stuff.

The type of jobs you would never, ever get unless you lived here.

A fireman and a brewer. Yeah. It's quite a good combination.

It is, it's excellent combination!

They may have started small, but they are thinking big,

and the beer produced here is beginning to be appreciated further afield.

I drink your good health. This is the IPA. Yup.

Mmm. Very fine, I have to say. Are you not going to join me?

I think I will. I think you'll have to. Yeah. Cheers. Cheers. All the best.

With a slightly fuzzy head and a bit of a wobble,

I set off in search of fresh air.

And it appears I've come to the right place.

Its pure, unpolluted air was once considered to be Colonsay's

most valuable asset, and great claims were made for its health benefits.

Mmm! Just get a blast of that!

In 1910, one writer noted that

"analysis has shown that for purity, the atmosphere of Colonsay is unexcelled in Europe".

With the clearer head, I arrive at the southern end of the island,

and make my way to my final destination.

"Do not take bikes to Oronsay." Fair enough. I'll walk.

This involves a tricky crossing, which has caught out many a visitor.

It's almost low tide now, and just about possible without getting very wet feet

to cross from Colonsay to the island of Oronsay across The Strand.

The Strand is an area of shell sand that's exposed at low tide.

But in these parts, the tides come in very, very quickly and go out very quickly,

so I need to be quick if I'm not to get cut off.

So I'd better get a move on.

'For anyone without an understanding of tides,

'this is a potentially precarious crossing.

'I imagine that over the years many a traveller has been

'seized by a sense of rising panic

'as their path is engulfed by the sea.

'But I've taken the precaution of getting advice from someone

'who knows these tides well - Oronsay resident Duncan McDougall,

'who manages the island on behalf of its American owner.'

Right, Duncan?

Hello, welcome to Oronsay. How are you?

Thank you very much. I've never been to Oronsay before.

It's a beautiful island. This Strand here, that is a tidal feature.

Do people get stuck going backwards and forwards?

Yes, it happens now and again.

They don't follow the track. The straight and narrow.

Yeah, they think they know better, and then they're stuck.

And if they're lucky, the farmer will tow them out, if there's time.

If not, they are under for... Until the next tide.

Oronsay covers just two square miles,

and has been designated as a Special Protection Area.

And although it's privately owned, the RSPB play an important part

in looking after the huge bird population.

How many people stay on the island now, then?

There's about five of us are resident,

and then there's... RSPB have volunteers that come and go,

so during the summer there can be ten of us living on the island.

Quite crowded then, is it? Yes, aye. THEY LAUGH

Where would you recommend I go first? Well, up to the priory.

Right. That's the big attraction. Thanks very much. OK. Cheers.

No problem. It's up this way, is it? The priory? Yes, just follow the roads.

The origin of the name Oronsay is uncertain.

Some say it's derived from the old Norse word for a tidal island.

Others believe it's named after St Oran who founded a monastery here in the sixth century.

This magnificent ruin is second only to Iona Abbey in importance.

It really is a special place.

There is very little-known about St Oran or his original monastery

which was replaced by this priory in the Middle Ages.

But, somehow, exploring these ruins, I get a sense that this island

was much more than a stepping stone in his remarkable life.

Like St Columba and nearly all the figures of the early Celtic church,

Oran came from Ireland,

and it's easy to see why he was attracted here.

The beauty and tranquillity of the island made it the perfect

base for his spiritual work.

From remote, windswept islands like these,

the monks spread their message,

and following in their footsteps has made me appreciate

how these islands inspired those early missionaries.

These ruins are an appropriate place for me to end my island pilgrimage.

I'd love to stay longer, maybe watch the sun go down,

if it ever stops raining.

But I don't want to get cut off by the incoming tide,

I need to make tracks across The Strand.

So, it's goodbye St Oran and his holy isle.

My next grand tour takes me to the east coast

and the fortress islands of the Firth of Forth.

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