Landfall in the UK - Iona
- Gabrielle Hadley
- Jun 30
- 4 min read

I am never going on another ship again. Oh, I seem to remember saying that the last time and here I am on a cruise and yes, Nick was right, it was my idea. I resorted to a Stugeron as the bands were fighting an up and downhill battle. If you’ve not taken Stugeron before, it makes you drowsy, so that really helped with an afternoon nap.
We had the afternoon briefing and felt that when we get to Iona, the Iona Abbey tour sounded just perfect. It was forecasting rain, but we’ve got all the gear.
Being in Princess mode yesterday, I simply couldn’t face the idea of dining at the Gril last night, which was where we were booked into. I couldn’t face the idea of going to the restaurant either, so in-suite dining it was. A simple pasta and salad was the order of the day. Erm, and no alcohol. I must be bad.
The sea continued to rage, the visibility was poor due to the rain and in general, the scenery outside matched my mood inside. I’ve been here many a time before and literally, have to weather the storm. Then pathetic Gabs is left behind and go-get Gabs returns. It’s just a waiting game.
The day and evening continued in a state of patheticness, in my case and total oblivion in Nick’s case. I spent it on bed, in bed or on the sofa.
We’ve come to the conclusion that we haven’t provisioned up while we’d been in Iceland. Every guide has told us how expensive even the basic foods are. As we have missed Kirkwall, we’ve lost our first opportunity to provision-up and drama of dramas, there were no lemons left on board. Bang goes our first drink of the day. First world problems eh? Santosh, being ever resourceful, had provided us with lime instead, but it’s just not the same and in my bleary state, had the lime juice. I reckon the enamel on my teeth was stripped off. Blimey, I hope they don’t run out of fizz as I feel certain our evening aperitif will be back on the agenda tonight.
Then, as we were thinking it was time to go to bed last night, Santosh arrives with a big grin and a dish of sliced lemons for us, with instructions not to tell the chef. He has found a lemon from somewhere.

The night was rock and roll again. There’s a point, when lying in bed, that you do a sort of brief levitation as the ship rides a wave, before smacking back down again as we go into the trough. Our watches haven’t registered our sleep for the last couple of nights. I reckon it’s because of the constant movement and vibration, it thinks we’re still awake. It was evident the Captain had his foot down last night as we were clogging along. The ship sounded as though it was going to shatter into a million pieces each time we rode a wave.

This morning go-get Gabs returned, the sea, although still bouncy, was way calmer. It was still a bit tricky moving about in the ship, but we weren’t being thrown from wall to wall like yesterday. Relief.
I think today is the hottest day to date in the UK. The Scottish have an expression which describes dull, overcast and persistently rainy weather. It is most definitely “dreich” today. We arrived in Iona just after midday with the anchors going down and our anchored position opposite the Abbey. We can just about see it through the gloom. It was the shakiest anchored stop we’d experienced to date. This was our last Zodiac trip as tomorrow is a luxurious landing on a pier in Belfast.
And so a very wet tour around the beautiful island of Iona. Home to roughly 120 people, on this 3 mile long by 1 and a half mile wide island. Its main claim to fame being the Abbey built in 563 by St Columba and his monks. Plus the remains of a nunnery founded in around 1200.
Apparently their other claim to fame is the volume of kings buried in the grave yard, around 40, also along side ex Labour leader, John Smith. There is a primary school which at its most has taught 22 children and at its least, just 2, who were brothers.
This is a beautiful island and I feel would have been more stunning if the weather had been better. However, by now, we’re so used to the wind and rain, it’ll come as a bit of a shock when we do finally see the sun.
If I’m honest, I’m not particularly looking forward to getting back to civilisation, but that process starts tomorrow. We’ve been to such small places, with few residents and barely any traffic, so to get back to a metropolis, will feel slightly overwhelming.
Amy, wishing you a fantastic time in Iceland and I look forward to hearing about your adventures on your return.
'Seemed like a good idea at the time' springs to mind Gabs! John shares your pain and is feeling slightly wobbly as he hears about yourbumpy ride!