Iona again

Trains, ferries and the trans-Mull bus have brought me once again to remote Iona, on the western edge of the Hebrides.

A week's residence with the community remains a splendid taster of a gentle, simple way of living in this traditionally 'thin place' where earth and heaven seem not-too-far apart.

Actually 'thin' doesn't apply to the gloriously substantial amounts of food served up three time a day, with intermittent servings of scones and oatcakes.

This year's group is slightly less international than in previous years, but eclectic all the same. I've met some remarkable people.

There's been a speaker - the American Franciscan Richard Rohr.

But, for me, the memorable moments come in unplanned encounters over food, or while stomping through wind and rain on the round-the-island 'pilgrimage' - this year enlivened by a close encounter with the Iona bull. A very big boy.