The Mishnish

You can tell anyone who has spent at a night in the Mishnish and not just because they will invariably now just call this legendary oasis - with a misty eyed knowingness - ‘The Mish’. But also because a part of them won’t quite have recovered from witnessing the unique audio and visual onslaught of three separate gigs being played simultaneously in one space, the free-flowing whisky and even freer-flowing life affirming Hebridean craic. Yes, the Mish is very special indeed. If you’re seriously lucky you may just be in when the legendary Vatersay Boys are breezing through with their multitude of players and instruments en route to or from the Outer Hebrides. I would say you would never forget that, but I sort of have. The music may be gone, but a warm fuzz still lingers in my soul.

The pub has been one of the pastel-hued delights of Tobermory’s postcard pretty waterfront since 1869. Porpoises splash in the aquarium-clear waters as sea eagles soar in the thermals, while inside drams from the distillery just a caber toss away star alongside a treasure chest of Scottish ales. Next door in their dining room seafood excels with a boat-fresh seafood platter the like of which money just cannot buy in London, heaving with Mull scallops, crab, mussels and oysters. The chances are you will scarce remember your night in one of the dozen simple bedrooms above -  do make sure to snare a sea view to wake with the Hebrides soothing your senses as the memory of frantically played fiddles fills your heart.