Isle of Iona

On the Hebridean Isle of Iona with Erica (Atlanta), Hanna & John (Darby and Cambridge-ish). Fabulous, fantastic folk. Thanks to John & Hanna, I now know that bananas always, always have 5 sides. Thanks to Erica, I remember gists and theme songs of amazing '80s kid's TV shows, was converted to shell-based sand (screw rock-based sand!), and can put my finger on why I didn't like the movie Running With Scissors; it was also good to meet someone else who's never broken a bone.

Staffa is a wee, unpopulated island about 5 nautical miles from Iona.

Crazy rocks on Staffa.

With Erica at Port Bahn on Iona. We dropped our stuff on the shell-based beach and climbed a hill. Fine and wonderful idea. Oceans have tides, though. Didn't think that one through carefully enough and ended up with some wet stuff. But we ended up with more fun times than soggy books, so I figure the gravitational pull of the moon lost that battle.

On Iona looking towards Mull.

Another bit of Staffa.