How is it that
everything not dealing with whisky on Islay feels somehow remote? Is it the
roads that- more often than not- are single-track, lonely and bumpy- that give
the impression of a place far away from any human inhabitation? Finlaggan is
such a place and despite the awesome and modern visitor centre, once you are
out and about it feels like you are surrounded by nature and miles of it all
around.
That feeling
makes it difficult to appreciate Finlaggan for what it once was: the seat of
government of the Lords of the Isles in the 13th till the 15th
century. Except for two islets in Loch Finlaggan (Eilean Mòr “Big Island” and
the artificial Eilean na Comhairle (Island of the Council), some ruins there is
not much to see, and it is quite difficult to build an image of what life was
supposed to look like when this place was bustling with life.
The visitor
centre, operated by the Finlaggan Trust, does an awesome job in explaining all
there is to know about this place and one is left with a sense of awe after
visiting the exhibition. The walk from the visitor centre to the causeway
leading into the loch to Eilean Mòr is very pleasant indeed. But when I step
onto the causeway itself and slowly walk over it into the lake, a strange
feeling comes over me. It seems like I am entering into another world, an older
world that is no longer there. I step onto the soil of Eilean Mòr and I receive
a welcoming greeting, as if from the island itself.
And then I know:
this is an ancient sacred place. Much more ancient in fact than the MacDonalds
of the Isles, as witnessed by the silent standing stone overlooking the loch. Fragments
of myths run through my mind: Celtic stories about sacred salmons and weird
creatures residing in lochs such as these, stories about the marriage of the Celtic
kings to the Land, and parts from the
Arthurian myth cycle regarding the Lady of the Lake and her mysteries. And a small
mystery that has been bugging me since coming here resolves itself: why did the
Lords of the Isles, of all places, pick this one for their seat of government?
Not because of its accessibility or its central location, not because there was
plenty of space here to build a powerful stronghold, but because this was
already a significant place of a sacred power; who ruled Finlaggan ruled the
realm!
I roam around the small island with all that going on in my mind and I notice how the area around me starts coming to life. I sit down in the ruined church for a brief meditation and then I am briefly immersed in life as it was in the old days. The power that once was at Finlaggan apparently is still here, for those who know where to look. I receive an insight: this is the ancient heart of this island, this is where its charms and beauty are coming from and this is what draws people here and sometimes keeps them here.
I roam around the small island with all that going on in my mind and I notice how the area around me starts coming to life. I sit down in the ruined church for a brief meditation and then I am briefly immersed in life as it was in the old days. The power that once was at Finlaggan apparently is still here, for those who know where to look. I receive an insight: this is the ancient heart of this island, this is where its charms and beauty are coming from and this is what draws people here and sometimes keeps them here.
It is difficult
to leave this sacred place as with all sacred places, but when I finally step
onto the causeway to go back to the car –and on our way to Bunnahabhain Distillery,
I turn around and bow to the ancient Spirits of the Land that welcomed me into
their realm for one brief moment.
No comments:
Post a Comment