These Are the Best Seafood Sandwiches in The World

And I’ve tried Birds Eye cod fish finger sandwiches

Fish Fingers-wiki commons

Scotland

On the pier at Oban, just behind the ferry terminal, is a compact seafood shack. A sign above says, ‘Local Shellfish.’ They have tables and benches outside. Inside, it’s crammed with shiny seafood.

The choice and quality they offer are impressive; lobsters, crabs, mussels, oysters, and langoustines that looked so fresh I swear their eyes followed me as I edged up the queue.

I opted for a double salmon sandwich and a double prawn sandwich, both on fresh-baked wholemeal bread. Something to munch on the ferry over to the Isle of Mull.

The shack was busy, but there was plenty of staff buzzing around. Not only were they the friendliest people, but I also don’t think I have seen any shop where the staff smiles so much. They unmistakably enjoyed selling the best quality seafood in the world.

And I’ve tried Birds Eye cod fish finger sandwiches

Dominating the town of Oban, on Battery Hill, is McCaig’s Tower, known locally as McCaig’s Folly. A monstrous but somehow engaging granite rotunda resembling Rome’s Colosseum.

McCaig’s Tower — wiki commons

Commissioned in 1897 by John McCaig, an eccentric banker, to commemorate his family and provide work for the locals in winter. Today, it is an empty shell. Over 650 feet in circumference, it contains a grassy area dotted with box bushes and field elm.

McCaig planned to incorporate a museum and art gallery with a central tower. His death in 1902 brought those plans to a similar sudden end. There is a pleasant garden for one to contemplate life when the sun is shining or for couples to make out under the moon.

McCaig’s Folly is a reminder that without individuals like McCaig, who have so much money that they can’t think of anything better to spend it on than pointless reminders of that wealth, we would have nothing much to look at — and I love it.

From experience, the walk to the top and the spectacular views it offers of Oban Bay is as good a hangover cure as any.

On the ferry, I found a table and sat next to a bubbly lady working on a laptop. By this time, I was salivating over the sandwiches. Even through the cling film wrapper, I could see the thick succulent salmon and the brown bread bursting with prawns. I was eager to get tucked in.

However, I got talking to Denise, my table companion, and it seemed rude to munch on food. So instead of sating my hunger, I played my travel game.

One of the best things about travelling is meeting other people. It always delights me to find out just how boring a life others lead. It makes my humble existence seem not so worthless. Then, occasionally, you get to meet someone interesting. When you do, journeys pass in an enchanting fleeting flurry.

There is a theory that every person on the planet is connected to every other person in the world through a chain of acquaintances that have no more than five intermediaries, commonly known as ‘the six degrees of separation.’

American sociologist Stanley Milgram devised an ingenious test. Milgram randomly selected people to send packages to an arbitrary stranger in another part of the country. He gave the senders the name, occupation, and general location of the person, that was all.

Their instructions were to send the package to a person they knew on a first-name basis, who was most likely to know the stranger personally. That person would do the same, and so on until someone delivered the package to the stranger.

The expectation was that it would take hundreds of intermediaries before the package ended up at the correct recipient. However, he discovered it only took six people, on average, for the package to make it successfully to the right person.

This is the game I play. When I get talking to a stranger or fellow traveller. I look for the six degrees of separation. Denise, as it turned out, went to school in a small village a couple of miles from home. We mentioned several names and discovered a mutual friend.

There we were, strangers on a ferry, with only one degree of separation.

“Aren’t you going to eat your sandwiches?” she asked.

It was all the encouragement I needed. And they were delicious, sumptuous even. I can honestly say I have never before had a salmon sandwich stuffed with such pinky goodness.

The prawn sandwich was just as good. The sauce was perfect and even when it dribbled down my chin, I couldn’t just wipe it away. I scooped it up on my finger and deposited it back in my mouth.

I made a mental note to stop at the shack on the road home. These were not ordinary sandwiches; I can assure you of that. They are a must-try if you are anywhere near Oban.

These Are the Best Seafood Sandwiches in The World