The last time we were here was last summer, on a warm and sunny day. After parking the car we’d walked down the winding track to the beach. The tide was well out and we’d strolled along the edge of the lapping gentle waves on the long stretch of sand.
This time: Boxing Day 2025, so bitterly cold that initially it took away our breath. But the sun was shining and the sky was a gloriously clear blue. It was good to be outside after days of rain. We sauntered down the track to the grassy path that led to the beach
The tide was in. In the distance we could see Skomer Island which we’d visited inJuly. An adventure I’d written about here and here.
We turned away from the beach and, after only slight hesitation, we crossed a small footbridge over a stream and followed a path to the top of the cliff that we’d not walked on before.
It was a little hair-raising to be honest. But the views were wonderful. After half an hour along an ever rising, and narrowing path we came to a halt at the top of steep and winding steps that obviously led down to the beach. Go on, or go back? We’re not very good at going back on walks, however lost we are, or in this case, however daunting the steps. So we decided – in for a penny and all that…
It took us ten minutes of walking sideways down each step and being very grateful for the walking poles we’d debated on bringing with us – (After all, it’ll only be a beach walk!” I’d said, foolishly).
I don’t know who’d built those steps but they’d obviously decided that anyone who could navigate them thus far would be fit enough to leap over the last two metres of sheer rock at the bottom to reach the beach.
Before I could decide to either slide down the rock on my backside, or roll down through the gorse bushes on either side of the path I heard a cry. ” Bravo! You are legends!” A lady appeared below. “Stay there. I’ll help you down, you legend. Grab my hand.” I was, I have to say, very grateful for the help.
Until, finally on level ground – (levelish – i looked it up, there is such a word, specially invented i guess for rocky beaches) – I looked at this lovely lady – and realised she was probably around our age.
To be clear though, she did tell us she’d arrived at this particular spot at low tide, and had walked along the wide stretch of sand from the other end of the beach – where we’d we’d originally planned to walk from. And also that the steps we’d come down were locally know as the emergency exit steps for when someone was caught out by the high tide. So that was the answer – whoever built the steps knew that anyone wanting to use them would probably be swimming to them – and not by choice; to escape being trapped by the tide.
Luckily for us the tide was on its way out. There was no way I was tackling those steps again to the top of the cliffs. We judged that, if we took our time, we could navigate around and over the rocks to get back to our originally planned starting point at the other end of the beach.
Having navigated rocks near the sea’s edge we made our way to the top of the beach near the cliffs where there was a gap between two tall, jagged rocks. A group of people came through as we were deciding on our next move. If they could do it so could we! Yes, I know … mad!! But we don’t like to be beaten.
We made it to the other side. “No problem,” said the photographer (He was standing on the sand taking this photograph with the path that leads up to the track, and on up to the car park, behind us). I ignored his confident smile; there were a few moments when I’d thought we would be needing a sea rescue.
N.B: Just as a matter of interests, Marloes Sands was the filming location for: Snow White & the Huntsman (September 2011). The Lion in Winter (1968).
And could I, should I, leave this post without a small metion of my books?
As I’m hoping the book I’m working on at the moment, and hope to publish in 2026 (Well, one can always live in hope!), I guess not. So here is the link to my Amazon page.
Thank you to all my readers; I appreciate each and every one of you.
St. Molaise was born in Ireland, the son of Cairell, the Irish king of what is now called Ulster, and the Scottish princess Gemma. Molaise was a very gifted and spiritually inclined child. He was much loved by his own people and was offered the throne of Ulster when he came of age, but instead he chose a religious and secluded life in a cave on the west coast of Holy Isle. He was then only 20 years old. Some people believe that when St. Molaise chose the cave on Holy Isle as his hermitage, the island was already considered a special, “holy” place.
The cave where St. Molaise lived, is about half way along the western shore of Holy Isle, about ten meters above the high-water mark, and consists of an overhanging sandstone rock with a sunken stone floor. It is thought that in Molaise’s time much of the opening of the cave was closed up by a wall to keep the weather out. The cave can still be visited today. Carvings can be seen in the wall, such as simple crosses, perhaps made by pilgrims, and Norse runes, mainly of personal names. One of these says “Vigleikr the Marshall carved”. Some of the crosses seem to have been carved at around the same time as the names, so perhaps there was an element of pilgrimage to the cave among the Vikings. Lastly, there is an unusually designed cross carved into the roof of the cave.
Close to the cave is a spring, known as the Healing Well which is thought to cure ills and bring blessings. In the 18th century it was recorded that “the natives used to drink and bath in [the well] for all lingering ailments”. The same source describes the water as “gushing out of a rock”. At the beginning of the 20th century apparently there was a cistern present built of masonry, with a stone spout which delivered the water. The spring is overgrown now so that you wouldn’t get more than a footbath from it but the water is still cold and clear, albeit it does not meet current EU standards for drinking water.
In 1488 Holy Isle and land in the Lamlash area was owned by one John Hunter, before being passed over to the Earl of Arran in 1527. The island continued to be part of the Arran Estate in Hamilton ownership even into the 20th century, being rented out to various people until that time. In the 18th century, Captain James Hamilton (not related to the dukes of Hamilton who owned Arran) obtained a long lease on Holy Isle from the Duke of Hamilton. In 1779 he built what became known as the Big House (the old farmhouse, now called the Harmony Wing).
In 1877 the inner lighthouse (facing Arran) was built on Holy Isle, engineered by David and Thomas Stevenson. It is locally known as “Wee Donald”, though the current lighthouse keepers don’t know why anymore. The outer lighthouse, or Pillar Rock, was built in 1905 on the east shore. It had a fog horn and a revolving light that was lit by paraffin. Pillar Rock lighthouse was the first lighthouse built with a square tower and has several rooms inside for the men who worked there. Lighthouse cottages were built to house four families of the lighthouse keepers and a walled garden was made. The lighthouses became automated in 1977, and are now serviced every two weeks by local people living on Arran.
In 1987 they decided to put the island up for sale for £1 million. The island remained unsold however, and in the autumn of 1990 Mrs Morris approached Lama Yeshe to offer the island to him, because she felt that its future would be best taken care of by “the Buddhists from Samye Ling”. Lama Yeshe first came to Holy Isle on the winter solstice of that year and became determined to buy the island. Finally the asking price was dropped to £350,000, which Lama Yeshe managed to raise by April 1992.
Judith Barrow 