12th - 13th February

12th February day 343

I'd been expecting a serious weather front to hit the west coast of the uk after watching a weather forecast on the bbc in tarbert but as i looked at the sky i could see no signs of any kind. In fact the weather appeared to be improving.

Walking towards the shore ready to begin my day i caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. A small red rodent, something I'd hoped to see before leaving Scotland, a red squirrel.  Red squirrels are native to Britain but greys introduced from america have almost completely driven the population away. You certainly can't see them un England anymore unless you visit brownsea island, a small island near my home town. The only reason they are still there is because of the water surrounding the island.

It was kool watching the little rodent scampering about among the trees but i soon had to place my focus on the task at hand, negotiating the coast. Leaving the bay i followed a narrow trail until it stopped, which wasn't far, then climbing over a small fence i began to tackle the next section, a rocky and to be honest tough rocky scramble.

Starting the day with as great a challenge as I had ended the day before was quite vitalising and after a few miles of countless bays having had to descend through rhododendron bushes in order to stick to the coastline i arrived in Portavadie, a small ferry port and harbour across from Tarbert. Seals were again swimming nearby and as always fascinated by my presence. I don't think they often saw humans hiking passed their home and of course they had to swim over yet keep a safe distance to watch.

Portavadie wasn't exactly what I'd expected it to be like. For a start there were no houses, its quite literally a port and harbour with not much else other than a hotel, restaurant, cafe and shop. Construction work was underway to build a swimming pool and leisure complex which for such a remote place seemed odd, very odd indeed.

Leaving the port i passed the moorings in the marina where some quite expensive yachts were moored. The complex on the whole looked quite impressive and modern, completely out of place in its surroundings.

Rich, whom I'd met in campbeltown whilst on his marathon hike had messaged me saying that in Portavadie I'd come across potential accommodation, homes that had been built but abandoned. They'd be dry should i wish to stop. It was far too early to stop but i thought I'd take a look none the less. What rich was referring to was a ghost town. A village that had been fully built to accommodate workers that were to build oil rigs from the port. For whatever reason the village was never actually occupied yet the village still remained.

Seeing the village just set back sparked the urban explorer in me. Entering the derelict site via an opening in the metal fences enclosing the village i immediately began to feel an all too familiar eerie sensation. The village devoid of life was quiet an lifeless. It was an enormous place with hundreds of small dwellings occupied now by birds and rats. The accommodation quarters were set out in numerous two storey blocks that surrounded a main complex which i would guess was a canteen, launderette and entertainment facilities. Artists had obviously found the site of interest and around every corner i foubd fantastically painted graffiti. On a few walls were extremely well fashioned murals and dotted about the site i kept coming across a spray painted character, podgy and curious, in different poses.

I then headed towards the point over more rocky shores and hit second island if the day. Because it was joined by a small spit thus connected to the mainland i had to walk it ending up literally yards from where I'd started. From there i could see the days destination only a few miles away. It didn't look easy but i was determined to stick beside the water no matter what. It did get tough in places ad i clambered over rocks but eventually i reached a sandy bay just as it was getting dark.

13th February day 344

It was now looking like the weather predictions were coming to fruition. The sky was a thick blanket of white and the air felt damp. Leaving the sandy bay i was soon back to clambering over the rocky shoreline. Before tackling the enevitable challenge of the morning i came across rail tracks that curved from the side of the bay and into the depths of the sea, a one way ticket to nowhere. British rail had obviously over estimated the potential of their trains, if leaves could stop service imagine what waves could do.  Where it had been dry over the previous days the light dusting of the mist had made the slimy rocks particularly slippery.  It was like snowboarding without a board or indeed any snow. Thankfully a layer of barnacles covering the boulders near to the water like sand paper provided me with good grip.

Thankfully it wasn't long before the rock walls and tightly packed forests that had tunnelled my course along the coastline vanished and i found myself for a short time strolling  along a grassy bank next to a stony beach towards the point of this peninsula, which ever peninsula i was currently on.

Lost in my own thoughts and plans for the nile challenge i crossed the bay in no time at all and was soon back confronted by an unforgiving landscape. I headed off into the unknown. Rocky cliff faces and leafless trees had once again returned and my reprieve had come to an end. As i began to make my way with the farthest point of the peninsula in sight i was delighted to find what looked like another forgotten footpath winding its way ahead.

Following the footpath was simple and all in all a pleasant experience.  Approaching the point I'd wondered how i was going to make it along the stretch ahead of me but the path being well defined and not too overgrown provided what i would now call a highway of the coastline. Emerging the far side the cliff faces retreated away from the shores and the ground covered in grass levelled out. The weather still hadn't improved but i had to thank ny lucky stars that at least it wasn't raining.

Reaching the other side of the point i could just about make out the coastline of bute through the mist. Secretly being thankful i wouldn't have to walk it i kept looking across and in my mind placed myself over there looking back at the shores i was now trekking.

A few miles later i was to escape the wilderness and begin walking parallel to the coastal road that would take me through Kames and into Tighnabruaich.