DAY 19
Friday June
10th 2016
Oban to Isle of Arran Miles
188
Today I traveled to the Mull of Kintyre, but there were no
bagpipes playing or any sign of Paul McCartney. Tonight I am staying on the Isle of Arran which is the the last
island of my coastal trip.
My Air B&B overnight in proved to be fine and the couple who
are running it are off to Vancouver in 3 weeks time so they were glad of some
advice. Their route to Vancouver is via
Halifax and Edmonton and then after visiting Vancouver and Vancouver Island
they are going to San Francisco, San Diego and Las Vegas; all in a two week
trip. I think they are going to be fed
up of traveling and as tired as me by the end of their holiday.
The couple who had wanted me to change my room, turned out to be two young
women, who I only saw fleetingly as they came out of the bathroom. The other guest was a lady from Southampton
who was tackling the Monroes. The Monroes are a collection of 282 mountains in
Scotland, all over 3000 feet that hill walkers have to climb to be able to
“bag” a Munroe. Apparently over 5000
walkers have bagged all 282. I think
that it was climbing one of these that John Smith, the politician now buried on
Iona, collapsed and died upon. This lady
is also doing, a bit at a time, the South West Coastal Path around Devon and
Cornwall. This is one that I feel I could probably manage to do. Perhaps that will be my next adventure!
I left Oban in 17 degrees with clear signs that the weather is
beginning to turn after 2 weeks of almost uninterrupted sunshine. The day became grey, but with almost no
rain. I took some photos, but coastal
pictures were hardly worth taking as the light was not good enough to give
sharp pictures. I realised that today
was the first day for three days that I had driven on a road with a white line
down the centre! Though later in the day
I did go back once again to single track driving.
It’s 37 miles from Oban to Lochgilphead, which is where the road
than begins to run along Loch Fyne, famous for its fish and shell fish and I
saw a number of fish farms in the water.
Loch Fyne empties into the Sound of Bute that forms the eastern edge of
the Kintyre peninsula. Just before
Ardrishaig I came up behind a truck transporting logs. It reminded me of being in BC. The driver kindly let me pass. I have noticed that virtually all of the truck and
bus drivers are very aware of other road users and let vehicles pass and give lots of room to cyclists.
I turned off just after Brenfield and then began a looping road
for about 30 miles that traveled out to the west and Loch Caolisport and the
Sound of Jura. This was back to my old
friend, the single track road! The
greyness certainly lowered the impact of any views.
I was able to get good Radio 4 reception about half way along
this road and listened to the ceremony from St. Paul’s Cathedral to mark the 90th
birthday of the Queen (though she was actually born in April) and today was
also the actual 95th birthday of the Duke of Edinburgh. I’m sure that this was a great spectacle if
you were a tourist in London today, as all of the Royal Family, most politicians
and the Archbishop of Canterbury were all there. Britain really does do majesty and splendour
in a magnificent way. As part of the
celebrations, on Sunday, there is to be a picnic along the Mall for 10,000
people. I am assuming that this only
open to people with an invitation. The
audience apparently come from the 600 organisations that the Queen is a patron
of.
In early July we are also going to have a celebration of my
Mother-In-Law’s 90th birthday (she was born in May). Her party though will be a somewhat smaller
affair, with about 50 people present; though I understand that at the ceremony there were 50 members of the Queen's family present, so perhaps our event will be similar, just without the TV cameras and other dignatories.I
heard today that there are an estimated 500,000 people in Britain who are
90. Assuming that in 1928 the population
of Britain was about 50 million then this means that around 1% of people from
this generation have lived to their 90th Birthday. On the BBC last year they said that because
of improvements in pharmaceuticals and medical care it is expected that 25% of people born in 2015 will live to 100. That could
really wreck the pension schemes.
Just before I came to Campbeltown there was a strong smell of
gas. I could not see any facilities that
might be to blame for the smell, but I made sure that I did not light a match
as it was very strong. I even stopped to
check that my butane stove was not leaking.
Campbeltown was a tidy place but a bit of a disappointment. I had heard songs about it and stories of the
ferry journeys from here, but it seemed fairly small and ordinary. Probably because it was a grey day and my
mental image was too unrealistic.
I decided to drive down to the bottom and the famous Mull of
Kintyre. I saw a sign for the lighthouse and then later another sign saying 8
miles. It started to rain heavily and
visibility dropped. We even ran out of
road and I was on no more than a track with grass or hedgerow touching the car
on either side. After about 4 miles I
decided that I could get into serious difficulties with the car if I continued,
but my problem was being able to turn around.
I continued for about another mile and a half then stopped on a bend and
did a (probably) 20 point turn with the collision sensors going full blast all
the time.
Kintyre Peninsula
I started back to Campbeltown and the rain stopped just before I
reached it. Indeed the sun threatened to
come out. At Campbeltown I followed a
different road than I came in on. This was on the eastern side of the peninsula and took me along Kilbrannan Sound. This was a much prettier
journey.
Davarr Island outside Campbeltown
There was little traffic and
almost every time I met someone there was a handy pull in. About 5 miles before I got to Claonig and the
ferry to the Isle of Arran I saw a sign warning of soft roadside verges. A mile after that a black van came at speed
towards me and ignored the pull in. I
stopped and he decided to pass me by going onto the verge. I heard a bump and in my rear view mirror
saw the gently beginning to lean over into the ditch. I got out to see if I could help but his off
side wheels were firmly in the ditch and his wheels on the road were so lightly
touching the road that all he could get was wheel spin and create a lot of
smoke. The driver was aged about 19 and
had come from Wales to work on a local construction project about 2 miles back
up the road. There was no way I could
assist him out of the ditch. His phone
did not work either, so he borrowed mine and called his firm to send someone to
rescue him. My only surprise is that he
was driving a black van and not a notorious white one.
I got to the ferry dock with an hour to wait so did my usual and
made a cup of tea. The ferry across to
Arran was about 35 minutes and we landed at the small village of
Lochranza. It had a small ruined castle
and a whiskey distillery. I thought here
was my chance to sample some whiskey, though I don’t really like it, but wanted
to find out why so many other people rave about the different types. Unfortunately when I got there it was closing
in half an hour and the last tour was already underway. I actually felt slightly relieved!
Lochranza Castle
Tomorrow I go across to Ardrossan on the mainland and my last
night in Scotland, probably at Troon or Turnberry, both famous golf towns. The next day I will be back in England and it
will feel then like I am on the homeward stretch. I am meeting a friend, Bob, in mid Wales and then
another friend, Pete, in Somerset. Pete
will be with me then right through until my penultimate night.
The weather is forecast to get wet on Sunday. This may impact what I do and where I
stay. I will still drive by whatever
road is closest to the ocean, but if photography opportunities are ruined by
the weather I may just press on and pull back a day on my journey home.
No comments:
Post a Comment