ISLE OF ARRAN/ WORDS BY HUGH FRANCIS ANDERSON
PHOTOGRAPHY BY ALEX FLEMING

Publication Scottish Sporting Journal

”Raindrops beat gently at the salt-strewn windows, white peaks form atop the crests of the waves below, and the clouds, ominous and heavy in the fading light, lie low over the mountain peak ahead. I’m approaching the Isle of Arran for the first time in over a decade; my mind is awash with the familiarity of youth. As a child, I have only the fondest of memories of the Isle of Arran. For two weeks every August, my family and I would stay at The Shieling, a small fishing cottage in the village of Corrie on the island’s eastern shore. Here, I would regularly bathe in the brisk Atlantic water, I would roam aimlessly around the glens, woodlands and mountains nearby, and I would while my evenings away overlooking the Firth of Clyde with a copy of Ransome’s Swallows and Amazons in hand. They were the most magical of days. And while I still spend time in Scotland today, Arran has evaded me since those long summers of yesteryear. In fact, Arran is one of the few large islands that has evaded most. Yet it has more to offer than one might initially think. With the sturdiness of the Maserati Levante S as my steed, and the photographic wonder of Alex Fleming by my side, I set out to rediscover my childhood citadel.”

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