Sitting at a table outside Café Canna, I hear the clattering of cutlery as merry day-trippers tuck into plates piled high with foraged seaweed salad and freshly landed langoustines and crabs. I see sail yachts bobbing on the moorings in the bay and the top of Coroghan Castle peeking above the clock tower of Rhu Church. So far so good, these were the sounds and sights I had expected. But then the diesel generator at the farm kicks in and a work crew starts up a bellowing grasscutter with a metallic roar in the kirkyard and I am given a reality check.
Like many visitors, I planned my trip to Canna as an escape,
