Morning came early in Oban for our day of travel to Mull and the magical island of Iona. Clouds blanketed the hills of Mull as we cruised toward our docking at Craignure, where our bus waited. The driver was a gem, his running commentary a perfect match for the stunning landscape of Mull. By turn, he pointed out their stupendous rainfall (4.2 meters a year), deer on the hills, the elementary school with just five students, the scarecrow that was actually a skeleton riding a bicycle, all the movies that had been filmed in the area, and much of the island gossip—all while negotiating the one-track road and traffic that slid by, inches away. He made the long drive to Phionnphort a delight.