OH my goodness!!!  I almost stepped on it!  Right in front of me was a RED toadstool!  Enid Blyton's "Magic Faraway Tree" had been one of my favourite books as a child and, in my book, there were pictures of the fairy folk sitting on red toadstools. I look around, half expecting to see Moonface or Saucepan Man nearby! The sun twinkles through the trees towering above me but no little fairy folk appeared. The isle of Arran, off the west coast of Scotland, is one of those places that you never want to leave. Around every bend there seems to be a dreamy vista - pretty villages, sandy bays, ancient monuments and sometimes wildlife. We have taken the ferry to Brodick, the little harbour town over which Goatfell, Arrans's highest mountain, rises spectacularly. We are keen to see as much of Arran as we can so we set off on the 100km long coastal road which circumnavigates the island. While Arran is a mere 30km long and 16km wide, it is known as Scotland in miniature with the north of the island being rugged and mountainous while the south is covered with green rolling hills and glens. We head north. After waiting patiently for the local farmer to herd his sheep from one side of the road to the other, we continue our journey to Lochranza where we stop to have a look at the ruins of the castle. Then we continue down the west coast through Blackwaterfoot to Lagg on the south-west corner of the island. The craggy, rugged highlands have now been left behind, replaced by the more gentle moors of the lowlands. The large patches of purple heather contrast beautifully with the greens and browns of the vegetation. We have walked out to the Glenashdale Falls from Whiting Bay, a lovely scenic walk especially as the heather is in full flower, showing off beautiful shades of pinks and purples. From the viewing platform we watch the falls splash over the rocks. Then we walk back to Whiting Bay via the Giants Graves, unusual stones on the hillside overlooking the bay.  They are burial cairns from the Neolithic era. n the way back to Sitting in the lounge on the ferry enjoying a delicious coffee, we watched the Isle of Arran fill the horizon. We had tasted oatmeal cookies, cheese and whisky at the VisitArran shop on board and picked up their information booklet, one of the best I've ever read. Arran is only 90 km to circumnavigate around the coastal road but around every bend the seems to be another glorious vista. The ferry docked in the harbour at Brodick where Goatfell, the tallest mountain on the island towered above us. We couldn't quite see the peak. A fluffy silver cloud shrouded it, clinging on tightly and casting a large shadow below. We headed south to commence our round trip hoping to find some accommodation on route. We had only gone half a dozen kilometres when we rounded a bend and there, in front of us, was a magical vista of a tiny island shimmering in the sun. Holy Isle is only a couple of kilometres off the coast from the tiny village of Lamlash. A quaint, whitewashed hotel facing the island across the bay had a sign advertising delicious meals on the board outside. I couldn't go past the view so we checked in to a gorgeous room with dormer windows and a comfy lounge area. The next three days just flew. While Arran is only small, there is so much to do. There are sandy beaches to explore and standing stones to study.