22nd - 25th January

22nd January day 323

It was another calm morning with barely a breeze in the air. Having arranged to meet iain for another wild camp the day before i headed along the beach to the pier a mere mile away

Arriving at the pier i was greeted first by nipper who came bouncing along the sand and shingles followed by iain some distance behind. They'd both decided to walk along the beach towards me and join me for the last few hundred yards before reaching the car where a fried breakfast was waiting for me in a small polystyrene box. It was a welcome start to the day.

Needing a recharge on my phone and backup battery we decided to head on to a nearby hotel to get a hot drink and use their electricity. It took almost a full day to get everything recharged and with the evening fast approaching we decided to head back to the woods I'd stayed at the night before. I was hopeful that iain would enjoy the camp site I'd picked out and hoped the weather would stay clement as we sat round a small camp fire chatting long into the night. Like a crazed pyromaniac he insisted on stacking more and more wood on till the flames roared. I feared for my life, Nippers life and the forest we were camped up in.

This time iain was better prepared and had borrowed a tent and air mattress from a friend. I remainded under my tarp as usual but was quite cosy none the less.

23rd January day 324

As I woke from my slumber i could hear rain dripping on the tarp and wind blowing through the trees. I began to wonder how well iain had slept when I heard "there's a coffee out here for you". Quite chirpy iain had woke early, still determined to be the first man awake in the morning.

As i sat sheltered beneath the tarp iain knelt beside it and with a big smile began to thank me for the experience, as quite surprisingly he'd never camped before, and like an excited child tried to reignite the fire. Thankfully he didn't manage it.

It was apparent from the nights shenanigans that it would have been useful to have a folding saw in my pack. We decided to head back to Tarbert to see if we could find one as well as a replacement tarp for me.

Thankfully the local iron mongers was able to help out with both items and after a quick breakfast stop we headed for the pier at gigha ferry terminal where i had met iain the day before. Immediately i headed down to the sandy beach to begin the days hike. The sky wasn't looking too clever with dark clouds looming and strong gusts of wind slapping me.

With a firm sandy bed beneath me i felt sure  would quickly make progress along the beach but what i didn't realise was that things are never quite as simple as you would hope for. Within quarter of a mile i was confronted with my first obstacle, a spateing river. Without getting my feet wet and having to wade through i would have to find another way across. Peering up the river i could see the road and knew that it would cross a bridge,  if i was lucky I'd possibly even come across a footbridge. It wasn't worth getting wet that was for sure.

Leaving the beach i trudged through the fauna, dead ferns and gorse bushes, climbed a fence into a field and followed the river until i came upon two old telegraph poles laid across the water. Tacked to the poles were small, thin slats. Some were broken, others rotten. None the less it was a way to cross. Carefully and slowly i made my way over, watching not to fall off or worse still through. It wasn't the worse bridge I'd crossed and had become quite used to these types of crossing. Compared to the knoydart rope bridge this was safe and easy.

Back on the beach again without too big a detour i continued to hike towards the mull of kintyre. It seemed that with every step i took the weather deteriorated. The winds picked up and showers became more frequent. Thankfully though the i didn't run into any more rivers in spate but mere streams flowing from the water saturated fields out to the sea.

While i was negotiating the shore iain had gone on ahead with my pack in his car and we eventually met up again near cleit which roughly translated meant promontory. A rocky break in the sandy coastline. After taking a short break and munching on a welcome mars bar i carried on. The beach south of the promontory was no longer sandy but made up of shingle. It was still an easy hike though.  No longer would i have to worry about high cliffs and steep slopes, well not along here, not for  a day or two anyway.

It didn't take long for me to reach iain at the next meeting point three or four miles away where i stopped and iain took me for hot chocolate at the argyll hotel where in return for fixing the hotels wifi i was treated to free food and drink.

24th January day 325

The following morning i woke early and had breakfast before setting off to tackle the coast once again. The skies looked good and it was hard to believe that it was still winter in fact it felt much like spring.

Leaving the point where I'd left off i made my way over the rocky point down to a small bay to be confronted with another outcrop the waves crashing against it. A quick scramble over the top and an interesting slide down the other side and i was back to the shore. The wind was fairly strong and their was a noticeable wind chill.

By timing the tides with the precision of a swiss clock maker i was able to progress along the coast in front of some of the rocky promontories with ease. Further along the land levelled out along shore, the  sea was angry with waves as high as small cottages and as long as an Australian land train. I could easily imagine body boarders and wind surfers enjoying the thrill of the natural forces behind the waters rolling into the shore.

the rocky terrain had now been replaced with wide sandy beaches. It had stayed dry and as day progressed the wind died off a little and it was feeling quite mild. Ahead of me about a mile i could see an interesting burial ground which i figured i could pay a quick visit but without knowing it i somehow passed beneath on beach, I'd walked at least half a mile before i eventually realised and being so far along decided not to go back.

Further along i came across a lonesome caravan. Surrounding the caravan was a forest of aerials, an mi5 listening post, maybe a pirate radio station. Neither my guess was that it was more likely to be an amateur ham radio enthusiasts remote retreat. And why not.

The   Argyll hotel was now in sight, and my halfway stop off and hot chocolate break. After the brief break i left the hotel hoping to get around the rocks and headland just a short distance away but unfortunately the tides had now come in and the way along the coast to macriahanush and its airport was completely cut off. I had no other choice but to climb up to the road and hike along which made the going easy and wasn't too far from the water either.

I'd covered about 4 miles and stopped to watch some shags perched on a rock before meeting iain parked up in a layby with a  hot mug of coffee and a mars bar. I hadn't quite made it to the airport but with less than a mile to go was happy with my progress. While taking a short breather sat in the car the skies suddenly darkened and heavy rain began to fall. It was getting late so I decided to call it a day and turned my attentions to looking for a place to stay for night. Quite surprisingly iain had a couple of suggestions. While he'd been waiting for me to complete the stages I'd set for the day he'd been seeking for improvised shelters and come upon an old touring caravan that had been left unlocked. I particularly liked this idea so we set off to inspect it. Sure enough the caravan was unlocked and in fairly reasonable condition. It was certainly clean enough, dry inside and would provide good shelter out of the wind and rain. Iain was now well and truly away from his comfort zones and really entering into the spirit of the trek.

25th January day 326

The caravan had been a lovely shelter for the night. After one of iains fry ups we cleared up and ventured out. I was dropped at the car park I'd met him at the night  before. It was a short half mile hike before i headed down to and  across the long sandy beach in front of campbeltown airport. From there i could see tip of northern island and was surprised at how close it was.

It may sound odd but i was beginning to feel that the trek was now less challenging, like something was missing. I couldn't quite  put my finger on it and although I was certain I'd tackled and conquered the toughest part of the trek i secretly hoped I'd still find adventure in the remaining 3000 miles.

Approaching the long beach which swept right below the airport and in front of sand dunes i spotted something quite unusual. At first it was hard to determine exactly what I was looking at. It was large and lifeless, a plastic lump tinted pink and grey. I went closer and could see large rib bones petruding. It was too large to be a seal, pourpise or dolphin, it looked like a beached nessie. I was somewhat confused. Feeling fairly sure it wasn't a descendant of the elusive loch monster i summized it was probably the carcass of a whale. Granted I'd never seen a whale that even remotely resembled what i was looking at in fact i hadn't actually seen many whales at all and certainly not in the wild and most definitely not during the trek.

As fascinated as i was by this unusual find i still had a good four mile hike ahead of me across the beach to macriahanush. As i set off a thick sea mist began to glide in and the village faded away under its vale.

I was feeling unusually tired as i slowly made my along. I'd slept well and couldn't put my finger on the reason. Regardless i had to get to the far side and was determined to conquer the mull of kintyre that afternoon.

Reaching village i crossed the golf course which was considerably easier than hiking the beach and decided to stop for a short break and hot chocolate at the local pub. While sipping on my hot treat i made the decision to call it a day. I wasn't feeling one hundred percent and knowing the journey to the very tip of the peninsula would be tough i decided  not to attempt to cross mull until the following day. It was going to be tough. The mull wasn't flat like the coast I'd followed the days before, quite the opposite.