It's beautiful. That's what everyone keeps saying. Sweeping hillsides, the Paps rearing up in the background, sea eagles swooping over our heads, huge skies, incredible.
And yet I'm finding Jura hard to love. Is it me, or is it Jura?
Here's a nice piece of timing. As I wrote the line above, my son sent me a link to Tracey Ullman's sketch, 'You Woke?'. Tracey is leading group therapy for young people so woke that they can no longer have fun. Ouch.
But here's a thing. Jura is owned almost entirely by a very small group of people for whom it is a playground. One has created a private golf course, looked after by 25 staff, but played on by no one. Most of the rest of the island consists of a handful of private estates managed for deer stalking. While we have the right to roam, thanks to Scotland's access legislation, in fact if you pick a line across a hill there's every chance you'll come up against an impenetrable deer fence. The estates call the shots when it comes to where we can go. This is a very strange form of wilderness.
In the small folds of land around farms and houses, outside the deer estates, Jura is stunning, with ancient woodlands hanging with lichens and ferns. These parcels of land show just what Jura has lost, but could regain if the deer-stalkers did not determine the ecology of the land.
Do I need to get over myself? Maybe. I'll make another coffee and check the sea for whales, but this is a weird place.