This summer, Julie and I are going on a religious pilgrimage to the Isle of Mull, in Scotland’s Inner Hebrides. I’m eager to pray there, but also to eat their seafood. The peerless James C. has been there for the past few days, and sends some great shots. His description of what you see above:

Looking out across the water to the Holy Island of Iona. That’s the Caledonian MacBrayne ferry in the middle ground. I got a seafood platter of fresh local lobster, langoustines, salmon, crab and prawns (with a steaming cup of delicious cullen skink (Scottish haddock chowder) from the seafood shack at the harbour, following my return from a God-smackingly transcendent visit to Iona. There are no words!

Yes, James, but the oysters. What about the Isle of Mull oysters? The ones I am going to consume like mad once I’m there?

Alas the oysters hadn’t yet come in that day, but I managed to get some tonight in Tobermory, on the other side of the island. Transcendent. I was tempted to try slurping them with a single malt whisky, but in the end I played it safe with a delightfully dry rosé from the Pays d’Oc.

Here’s what else James got up to.

Singing Lauds all alone in the 12th-century cemetery chapel near the abbey church (you MUST pray here with your group—the echoey sound is transporting!), I came across this:

James adds:

How appropriate! St Columba, pray for us to endure this new Dark Age!

And then:

All in all, glorious. Mull is magical. Wait till you see the scenery, and the evocations of the numinous all around you.