DAY 21

Sunday June 12^th 2016                                                             

Portpatrick, Galloway  to Annan, Dumfrieshire                Miles 185

Today has been a very pleasant day driving through mainly farming country.  I finished off the Rhins and moved across to the Machars.  The sun was with me all day and reached 23 degrees at one point, despite the dire weather forecast that I had heard.  Tonight will be my last night in Scotland.

Harbour House proved to be quite a find and I had not only a nice comfortable room, but an all too large breakfast, including both haggis and black pudding, of which I ate only a small amount.  This was also one of the least expensive rooms I have stayed in.

I drove first thing down to the extremity of the Rhins at the Mull of Galloway.  This has a lighthouse and is the southernmost part of Scotland.  The lighthouse is another one designed and built by Robert Stephenson (grandfather of the author Robert Louis Stephenson who wrote Treasure Island). There is a small monument here to a plane crash that occurred in June 1944 when an aircraft delivery pilot in a Bristol Beaufighter hit the boundary wall close the lighthouse, demolished a building alongside it and then went over the cliff.  The two people on board were both killed.  It is thought that the pilot came down in low visibility expecting he was over the sea.

There are two botanical gardens at this end of the Rhins, but I did not have time to visit either of them.  Returning up the A716 so as to take the road across to the Machars.  I passed through Sandhead, which has a long sandy beach and also a holiday home site.  I was surprised to see a sign at Sandhead advertising; ‘3&4 bedroomed houses for sale, 4 bedroomed detached villas and 2 bedroom flats from £85,500 – assistance available’.  I am presuming that the price shown is for the flats, but either way it would appear that this is a fairly inexpensive place to live, yet it is less than 20 miles from Stranraer.

As I drove through the country lanes I began to see scarecrows, not in the fields, but outside farms and private houses.  Some of them were exceedingly good.  My favourite, for which I did not take a picture, was of a farmer in his wellington boots and with a very realistic sheep dog.  I assume that these are part of a competition, but they certainly add some fun and character to the area.

I moved on to the Machars and the road allowed me to follow the ocean, down one side and up the other.  The Machers have a mix of rocky and sandy beaches.  There was one static caravan and chalet site overlooking Luce Bay.  Port William is a good sized village and nearby are Neolithic standing stones and stone ring.  There are 5 sites on the map covering the Rhins and the Machars so clearly this was at one time another important site for stone age people.  Indeed close to Drummore on the Rhins I had earlier notice two small mounds that looked to me distinctly like barrows.  I presume Historic Scotland have also noted these and investigated them.

St Ninian's Chapel

At the end of the Machers is the Isle of Whithorn with a sign as you enter the village saying “Isle of Whithorn B.C.”  I’ve no idea what the B.C. stands for and cannot find any connection British Columbia.  There is a small harbor, suffering from the tide being out and the vessels lying on the muddy bottom. St Ninian’s chapel is hear and is a ruin.  According to the history by Bede, St. Ninian was a monk who lived in either the 5^th or 6^th century who worked amongst the Pictish tribes of southern Scotland converting them to Christianity.  That he lived and was buried at Whithorn is about all that is known about him.  Near by the ruined chapel is a small white tower that has apparently been a navigational beacon for hundreds of years.

There are also two memorials here, one in memory of the scallop fishing boat Solway Harvester that sank off the Isle of Man in January 2000 with the loss of all hands.  The boat was brought up from the bottom of the ocean and all the crew members bodies found.  However the boat sat in Ramsey Harbour on the Isle of Man for a number of years while an investigation and court case followed.  Eventually the sinking was ruled as an accident but the owner of the vessel was heavily criticized over the seaworthiness of the vessel.  It was broken up for scrap in 2014.

The other shrine has no details about it.  It is a cairn of stones and rocks, and has lots of stones on it with the handwritten names of people (and of pets) who have died.  There is also a wooden cross and Tibetan prayer flags.  It is apparently called the witness cairn and was originally erected in 1997 to commemorate the arrival of St Ninian at this point.

Driving on from Whithorn you come to the village of Garlieston, which lays claim to being the birthplace of the Mulberry Harbour, large concrete barges that were towed across to France in 1944 to support the D Day Landings.  Wigtown about 10 miles further up the road makes the claim that it is Scotland’s Book Town.  (The Hay on Wye of Scotland no doubt).

I drove on to Newton Stewart, but skirted the bottom of the town to keep on the coast road.  A glimpse along the high street suggested flags and bunting, so it probably would be an interesting town to visit at some time.  The A75 at this point runs alongside the estuary of the River Cree and opens out into Wigtown Bay.  It reminded me very much of the River Exe estuary at Exmouth when the tide is out.  There are also further Neolithic remains on this road. 

At Gatehouse of Fleet I decided to stop and have a break.  This is also a very pleasant little town but I was surprised that the Kilt weaving shop that I had thought I would visit, which is advertised on the edge of the town, was not open.  I only then realised that today was Sunday.  Every day to me has become a bit of a blur.  I suppose I should have realised this while listening to the omnibus edition of the Archers.  It’s amazing that having been in Vancouver so long, I can come back and turn on the radio and listen to the Archers and it seems as if I have never been away.  The same characters still doing almost the same old things (nostalgia is all that it is cracked up to be!).

I drove down a small promontory to keep next to the ocean and came through the pretty village of Borgue.  I was not assimilated and never saw 7 of 9 (Star Trek fans will know what I mean) but it was a pleasant enough place if I did have to spend an eternity of space time there!

Kircudbright from across the estuary 

Just past Borgue I had to stop and take a photograph across the estuary to one of the prettiest little towns I have seen in this area, Kirkcudbright (which for the Sassenachs reading this is pronounced Kercoobry).  Oh and by the way Culzean Castle, which I visited yesterday is pronounced, Cullain.

Kircudbright Castle

Kirkcudbright has a small harbor with sail boats (sadly the tide was out) and a fine ruined castle right in the centre of the town.  Many of the houses here were also painted in bright colours which I think makes many of these stone built towns so much more warmer and brighter.  If you wanted a holiday in this area, then this could be a nice place to base yourself.

Just outside of Kirkcudbright is the ruins of Dundrennan Abbey, presumable another casualty of Henry VIII

I then drove on and skirted the edge of Dalbeattie and continued to follow the coast road heading for Dumfries.  Along this road there is a very long stretch of sandy beach at Sandyhills and the view from the road is right across the Solway Firth to Cumbria, where I will be tomorrow.  I stopped outside a cottage to take a photo and talked to a gentleman with his dog who was sunning himself outside.  He told me that the wooden posts in the sand (a long way out) were fish traps to catch salmon and trout as the tide recedes.  Apparently these are being banned as from next year and only rod and line can be used from then on.

 View from Sandhills to Solway Firth

Fish Traps on Solway Firth

A few miles on I came across another ruined abbey with the lovely name of Sweetheart Abbey.  I had to stop and take a photograph and then decided also to have afternoon tea in the garden of a small tea rooms alongside of it.  The car park was full of cars so I expected the café to also be full, but there were only three sets of couples there.  I next thought the cars had to belong to walkers, as there was certainly no one in the Abbey.  When I went back to my car I found out where everyone was; behind the hedge playing bowls in the local bowls club.  There must have been a hundred people there, all enjoying the games and the sunshine.

Sweetheart Abbey

I skirted Dumfries and again followed the coastal road, stopping briefly at Kingholm Quay (tide was still out!) and made my way on to Annan, my stop for tonight.  

Annan is not as pleasant as its neighbours.  It is mainly built of red brick and looks quite austere with a rather sad high street.  I ate in what the sign said was an Italian restaurant, but it wasn’t.  Their food was just “ordinary” and pasta and pizza was the only ersatz Italian on offer. The waiter said that they had only recently reopened and were now a continental restaurant.  I’m not sure what that is supposed to mean, other than they did not have fish & chips or steak pie on the menu.  But they did have steak and also salmon.

Another restaurant nearby was advertising its services, which included Birthday parties and Funeral breakfasts.  I had not seen the latter offered before as a reason to go into a restaurant!

As I walked down the street looking for somewhere to eat I noticed a small group of youngsters enter a betting shop, which was still open at 6.00pm on a Sunday.  Clearly the Kirk has no influence here.

My B&B claims to be an old rectory.  It is clean but the emphasis is certainly on the word old as the furniture in the room is definitely older than I am and must have been old even when my parents were young!

Tomorrow I am going to press on into the Lake District coastal area.  If I have time I plan to ride the Ravenglass and Eskdale miniature steam railway (assuming the sun continues to shine on me).  Ravenglass is allegedly the birthplace of St. Patrick who went on to become the Patron Saint of Ireland.  If I do get as far as I hope tomorrow then I will certainly be almost one day ahead of schedule.