The Archbishop is in Scotland as part of his ecumenical contacts, going off to meet fellow bishops on the Island of Mull. There is increased security and a dockside official is looking at the man's face and seeing a lot of beard and hair.
"I think you may find that I am no one, indeed nothing other, than Rowan, well, humm, they call me by my titles too but I like to be friendly and go by Rowan."
"Och aye," said the official. "Follow me a reasonable minute."
"Well I wouldn't do differently," said the Archbishop, going along the jetty to a lower point.
The man pointed to a small wooden boat with a bench across and offered the Archbishop a couple of oars, duly taken. "Enjoy your trip," he said.
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