31st January day 332

Leaving the grassy banks of the beach i followed the road which ran alongside the water opposite the island. When i reached the shingle spit tat joined the island to the mainland at low tide i headed across. It seemed to take considerably longer to walk across than it looked.

Waiting on the island was rich long. Rich like myself was walking around Britain to raise funds for the post traumatic stress disorder society. Unlike me he was walking clockwise visiting all the war memorials along the way and including the islands. It would take rich 4 years to complete his challenge.

Meeting with rich was simply amazing because unlike anyone else I'd met during my journey,  rich had experienced the same hardships,  was enjoying the adventure and had the same state of mind as myself. As we hiked together around the island together looking for the special cave we exchanged stories becoming strong friends and although we'd soon be parting company i knew we'd still keep in touch.

The special cave I'd been looking for was on the far side of the island and only accessible at low tide. The cave itself although pretty impressive was made more interesting by the life sized cave painting of christ on the cross. It had been painted by a local school teacher one night. Locals at first thought it was a sign from god but when it was revealed that the teacher had in fact created the masterpiece he was initially ostracised.

After locating the cave rich and i continued to circumnavigate the island together looking for more caves and chatting about our respective experiences. On our way round we came across a large cave obscured from the shore by a huge pile of rocks. I climbed up ahead to investigate rich followed up behind. Behind the rocks we found a large cave and sheltering in the cave we found a goat and its kid. It was certainly for me a special moment.

By the time rich and i had hiked over the boulders strewn along the shore and passed the lighthouse the tide had receded fully. The spit was no longer a thin stretch of shingle but a sandy bed had now been revealed which meant the walk back to the mainland was considerably shorter and easier than the hike out to the island.

Our union was short but an experience I'm sure neither of us would forget and as i continued on to campbeltown only a few miles away i wondered where and in fact if we would meet again.

30th January day 331

It was a sunny start to the day as i left feochaig passing an old digger called bertie. It had seen better days and i doubt it still ran. It wasn't going to be an easy day and leaving bertie the day began as it was going to continue. Immediately i had to slide down to the shore between the rocks.  As i hiked i noticed the geology of the rock was constantly changing, i don't think I'd ever been so fascinated by what I'd walked on throughout my life and i wished i knew more about it.

The tide was now beginning to recede as i reached a small bay with a bridgei would be able to use to cross a small burn without getting my boots wet. I stopped for a short break before heading off again. With the tide now on its way out i began to feel confident the next section of the coast would be easy to negotiate and I'd be able to make it to campbeltown before dark.

Leaving the bridge and the bay i began to cross a sandstone platter. The rock formations were again fascinating and sections in my opinion wouldn't have looked out of place hung on a wall in the tate modern gallery in London. While admiring the landscape here along the shore i noticed an oddly shaped boulder. It was a shallow cylinder perfectly round with a large hole set dead centre and about tgree foot across. Obviously it wasn't a natural shape it had to have been man made. Being too large to hang round someone's neck i summized I'd either discovered the first wheel or that i was actually looking at an old mill stone. Believing I'd found the latter i wondered what it was doing there, maybe it had been chiselled from the sandstone along the shore and was somehow damaged and left or less likely there had once been a mill nearby abd that the stone was now all that remained.  Either way it was an exciting find.

I  carried on, i still had a fair hike ahead of me and knew the tide would eventually come back in and i didn't fancy getting cut off and having to wait before getting to campbeltown or climbing up the cliffs.

Walking away from the mill stone i headed around a rocky headland and towards a long stony beach. About half way along i made another discovery, a rather large engine. It was rusted and far too big to have come from anything other than a boat. Laying on the beach nearby were other debris which i felt backed my theory of some kind of shipwreck. as i looked around and closely at the engine and debris i wondered what story was behind the wreckage.

After having a good look round i continued along the beach towards a headland. Then began the start of a series of caves. The first being enormous with remains of a thick stone wall. This turned out to be quite a significant cave although i wasn't aware of it at the time. In the centre of the cave was a large puddle but that wasn't going to stop me from exploring the back. Sticking near to the walls i paddled through the water to come up to a raised ledge. The cave went further back so i put on my head torch to investigate further. The ceiling was extremely high and the cave went back a fair way, there weren't any tunnels or additional caverns but the cave itself was fascinating and had obviously been occupied at some point.

Continuing along the shore i came across  more caves, some up in cliffs others down on the shoreline. As i entered the last cave,  with three openings,  it began to rain. I was also very conscious that the tide had turned and would soon be back in i could find myself cut off. Without spending too much time exploring i decided to carry on towards campbeltown. The coast was still very rocky and easy going and it didn't take me long before i reached a grassy bank with a well trodden footpath.  Campbeltown was not too far away now and across the waters i could see davaar island, an island with a very interesting cave on it, an adventure that i would have the following day.

29th January day 330

As i left Southend along the beach it began to snow heavily. I was looking forward to taking a closer look at the old boat house on the far side  only to discover that it had been rebuilt and was no longer old. Disappointed well maybe s little bit. I headed over the headland and down onto the shingles and sand of another beach. As i continued on my way i noticed the dark red sandstone which was similar in colour to the clay cliffs in Norfolk and for a short while i was cast back to my earlier hike in the sun along the east coast which now seemed like such a longtime ago.

Further along the beach i passed the first of  several caves i was to discover that day. This one, a sea cave, had an oval mouth. The walls inside had been worn away and felt smooth to the touch. It didn't go back very far and with a long hike ahead of me i didn't go in. A mile or so later a came across my second cave. Outside were a couple of static caravans probably used during the holiday season. This cave was set into a small cliff up away from the shore. The walls were rough and the mouth quite large, larger than the first cave,  much larger.

This cave was far to interesting to ignore and warranted further investigation. Taking out my head torch  I headed in to the first chamber. The ceiling was high, the walls were damp and the floor was muddy. As the chamber narrowed i could see a short tunnel,  large enough to walk through. On the other side a second chamber opened up just as large as the first. It was much drier than the first and at the back i could see a small opening which appeared to extend back. I shone the light from my torch hoping to shed some light on the possibility of further exploration. I knelt down to get a better view, it looked as though the small tunnel headed far into the rock. Where did it go, i pondered. I still had a long hike ahead of me though so reluctantly i decided to head back.

Standing outside the entrance to the cave i looked back over my shoulder and closing my eyes i pictured the unknown in my mind. A vast cavern leading to a maze of tunnels stretching for miles. I opened my eyes and i was back in the real world and back on the trek.

Leaving the cave and my imagination behind me i continued to follow the shoreline,  passing sone more caravans in a field. There were three touring caravans up turned and laying in a ditch. The recent storms had proven so strong it had tossed these mobile homes like they were plastic toys.

Further along the terrain was looking challenging and rose up above the beach. It would mean another race against the tide and miles hopping over rocks and boulders.

And so the adventure began. Gradually the beach was replaced by boulders and i was soon climbing small rock faces and large boulders. It wasn't long before I stumbled on my third cave of the day. The entrance was a slit between the rock of a cliff. Inside it was long and narrow, at the far end i could see sun light shining through another much smaller opening. It was too narrow to have been a dwelling but there was the remains of a wall just outside.  There wasn't much left of the wall and it was hard to determine how long it had been stood for.

From the cave i then followed a narrow  trail which appeared to have been used by cattle. There were no more beaches to follow,  the cliffs were now all the way to shore. I'd been following the trail for about a mile when i came across another cave. It was becoming quite an adventurous day. This cave was high above the sea and again quite large. Inside the mouth and to the left was a sturdy wall, water was seeping through the cracks in the ceiling  and collecting in a pool. Again there was an opening at the back which appeared to go back into the rock. Another tunnel. It was tight and shining my torch in i could see it bent right. I wanted to investigate further but i knew my window of opportunity was limited. I maybe had three hours tops before the tide would return to the cliffs and my route would be cut off and I'd be unable to continue any further, risking getting cut off completely. Again i decided to tame my desires and  continue to conquer the coast.

With the tide out which would make it possible for me to scramble over the rocks in front of a hill that was known as "the bastard". I didn't know why the hill had such an unusual name and saying it out loud for some reason made me feel awkward. Not something I'm particularly known for.

The geology of the landscape now changed, no longer were they red sandstone or your more traditional grey boulders they now resembled giant lumps of concrete. The boulders were also considerably larger and tougher to scramble over and more physically challenging. This didn't stop me from exploring more caves though.

I really couldn't believe my luck, the further i walked this coast the more crevasses and shallow caves i found. Occasionally I'd spot a cave that drew me in and this was to continue. It wasn't long before i came upon yet another cave with a large opening, this one once again sparked the imagination. I had to descend into the abyss, it was an overwhelming urge that needed to be satisfied. Inside it was much like the others a narrow entrance beyond the mouth that descended into a large cave at the back. As i cautiously went in a bird rapidly exited causing a sudden injection of adrenaline and a few colourful words.

After exploring the cave for a few minutes i had to drag myself away and continue along the coast. As i made my way feochaig the boulders got bigger and the scramble more challenging. Being halted by a boulder the size of a double decker bus and unable to walk around i had to get my climbing head on in order to get to the top before jumping a four foot gap to an almost vertical rock face on to another gigantic boulder . My leap had to be precise, a single misplaced grab or missing the small ledge with my foot would mean a serious fall. I took a breath, selected my landing and made the leap. Landing perfectly i climbed up the side of the boulder. I can't deny it, i love what I'm doing and yes i could have followed the road but where would be the fun in that.

The days adventure didnt stop there i still had to scramble over smaller but still massive boulders till i reached feochaig and as the tide was coming back in now i had to make the decision to stop there and carry on the following day.

26th - 28th January

26th January day 327

Today i would break the back of the mull of kintyre, yes it was windy, extremely windy, but it was also sunny and dry. How hard could it possibly be after all I'd already passed the hardest part of the trek, I'd passed cape wrath and the knoydart peninsula. I'd coped with snow, high winds and Scotlands famous storms. Surely this would, well, be a doddle.

Leaving  macriahanush i following the  kintyre way finger posts up into the hills and away from the village and once again into the wild landscape. Walking down the kintyre peninsula was relatively flat and I'd managed to stay more or less at sea level. Ahead of me now though i would need to hike through the hills way above the sea and with the sloped down too steep to traverse I'd have to see how close i could actually get.

Leaving the track at the earliest possibility i began to follow the coastline towards the point, the slopes were indeed steep but i was determined to stay as close as possible. The kintyre way had now headed a long way inland and would eventually end quite some way from the tip.

Following my instincts and keeping the sea in sight, to my right and away from the path i had to keep my wits about me. The wind had begun to pick up with strong gusts blowing from the west and whipping around the knolls. The further down the coast i hiked the harder and more dangerous it became. Being confronted with an almost sheer drop i had to head up a steep exposed slope away from the coast. By using faint trails and small ridges i slowly made  my way up towards what appeared to be an unnatural gully. The gully gradually wound its way to the top where the wind appeared to be concentrated and considerably stronger. Continuing to battle against the winds i carried on following the ridge line occasionally ducking behind small mounds out of the gails to take short breaks.

Reaching a wide and deep valley which i wasn't able to descend i once again turned inland towards a forest where the valley shallowed out making it easier to cross.  In fact the valley not only swallowed but also narrowed considerably fed by a small stream that  i was able to easily jump and head up the other side.

A fence running along the edge of the forest was now to be my guide. It was obvious that sticking directly to the coast here was quite frankly impossible. The fence though followed parallel to  the coastline off across the baron landscape and out of sight. As i followed my guide rising and troughing through the hills i wondered if it would ever end. Thankfully it did and as the fence pulled left i felt sure the end of the peninsula wouldn't be too much farther.

The terrain was gradually changing and had been all day. That morning it had been boggy, over the hills the ground firmed with bedrock beneath the grasses and now i found amongst the rugged landscape large bowls of peat. Still i could not sea the sea south of the peninsula or for that matter the lighthouse i was aiming for.

Taking a bearing ahead of me i headed towards a ridge of rock feeling confident i would soon reach the days determined destination.

After clambering in and out of numerous peat bowls and crossing a soggy marsh basin i noticed among the grass a metal fragment. As i looked around i came across more, much larger pieces. I'd been told that some twenty years earlier an horrific accident had happened near the point involving a helicopter carrying the countries top security advisors. The pieces of wreckage in front of me certainly looked like they were from a helicopter. Had i stumbled on to parts from the actual crash. If so why hadn't the investigation team removed them. It was all very peculiar.

It was now getting late in the day and i knew my time was running out. If i wasn't careful i could find myself sleeping in the wild, exposed and baron landscape of the mull of kintyre. Feeling slightly disoriented and knowing a memorial to those lost in the accident was surely going to be nearby i made the decision to keep heading south which meant climbing quite a steep bank to gain higher ground and a better viewpoint.

From the better viewpoint i could see a short stretch of tarmac, the road that led to the lighthouse, my target.

27th January day 328

I'd been lucky with the weather over the passed days, so much so it was hard to believe how bad it had gotten. On this morning a thick mist had descended on the mull. Although i really wanted to head down to the shore and attempt to navigate the treacherous  coastline as close as possible i had to make the decision to follow the road away from the lighthouse. Safety, after all, had to remain my priority.

As i hiked eastwards following the southern  shoreline away from the west coast of the peninsula the mist began to lift and it looked like it would be another reasonable day.

Taking first opportunity i descended an extreme fern covered slope down  to the shore. With each step i had to watch my footing or I'd find myself at the bottom much sooner than i was comfortable with.

Safely at the bottom i looked back to see what i had missed out on. It was rugged and no matter how good you thought you were i quickly realised that the coastline from the lighthouse to where i was stood was impassable. Sheer vertical rock faces plunged into the crashing water and as i looked closer i could see that traversing the cliffs would also have been completely impossible. It was a good feeling though knowing that i was as close to the point as humanly possible i just hoped that from here i would be able to make it all the way along to southend and the caves near st Columba's chapel. The same st columba who's cave I'd spent the night in a week before.

Without knowing exactly or to be honest without knowing even  roughly how far i had to go i set off. I was now very used to scrambling over boulders and rocks allowing me to fulfil my mission to stay as close to the coastline as possible. Today was going to be no different, hoping onto the first boulder i began jumping from one to the next in  fluid motion a natural rhythm making progress effortless.

By taking the route I'd decided to tackle takes a lot of concentration and the ability to make quick risk assessments along the way. It never gets boring in fact it occupies your mind constantly. You need to be observant and understand the consequences of your actions,  afterall your life depends on good judgement. The rewards however can be great. During this section of the coast i was to be rewarded with quite a discovery.

I'd Scrambled a fair way along the coast when i came upon a metal wreckage of sone kind of boat but that wasn't the discovery that made me feel particularly special. A little further along wedged beneath a large boulder i was to stumble on something quite special and something it is quite possible no one has even seen before. On first sight i couldn't believe my eyes. I'd found an extremely old canon its rusted cylindrical shape at first glance looked like the chimney of a steamship but as i bent down to look closer i could clearly see this artifact had a much more interesting story to tell. There were no desernable markings which meant it was impossible to determine which ship the canon had once made its home.

With the fire of exploration reignited within i continued to clamber the rocky shore to a small sandy bay, the tide was now coming in to reclaim the canon again until the tide retreated again the following day. Reaching the bay i decided to take a short break and to think back recalling the discoveries  of the day posing unanswerable questions and make wild stabs at the age of the relic.

Keeping an eye on the time and noticing the air becoming chilly i continued with the days hike along the sandy bay over a grass mound and down to a long sweeping beach which would take me to st Columba's chapel.
The only thing now slowing my progress was a river that cut across the beach into the sea. Looking along the length i could see no sign of any shallows or stepping stones to facilitate a crossing. The river though wasn't exceptionally deep so i decided to remove my boots, roll up my trousers above the knee and wade across. The water was freezing but what was i to expect afterall it was winter.

With boots and socks rightfully returned to their proper appendages i sauntered across the beach towards the cliffs where i was hopingto find shelter in one of the klies caves near to the chapel i was keen to look at.

The caves weren't far from the beach, a mere few hundred yards if that. The first cave was small and quite uninteresting and certainly not large enough to sleep in.  The second cave was much larger and really quite impressive. It was dry inside with a high ceiling. Unfortunately the floor was far from clean, bird droppings covered it that gave off a repugnant stench. Staying there would be only if there were no other choice. A final cave was small and compact. It was a tight fit with two more small chambers joined by narrow corridors. It would be cosy and a perfect place to hold up.

28th January day 329

The wind didn't let up all night and as i woke i found myself dreading the hike i had ahead of me. My plan was to keep to the shore, a treacherous route that would take me in front of a long stretch of cliffs. The tide would need to be out or I'd find myself in serious trouble and potentially cut off.

As I sat and had breakfast the weather worsened and i had to make the decision to go for it or stay put. Having a bad feeling in my gut which was unusual i decided to put the trek off till the following day when i hoped the weather would improve.

15th Jan day 316

As I opened my eyes and looked out at the bay it became apparent that the crossing I'd hoped to make in hoolley wouldn't be possible.  The wind was still strong and large waves were rolling up from the sea. My shelter had taken a battering too. Rubbing against the branches during the night had ripped a hole the size of a tennis ball.

Packing my kit away was tough with in the confines of the shelter but I managed none the less. I headed over to the shore to see if I could continue along it but with the winds howling over the rocks and waves spraying into the air I turned back towards the ruins and looked up the valley to plot an alternative route. A stream that was trickling contently the night before was now a raging torrent breaking away from its channel and running towards me down the slope I was to follow. The ground was saturated making it hard work and slow progress as I followed sheep tracks towards a dip between two peaked ridges.

Passing between the peaks  felt the full force of mother nature having a tantrum, the wind knocking me back as i pushed my way up. Reaching the top I was then faced with a steep descent down the far side. I could see  a road below which in itself was quite a blessing. Before i began my way down i sought shelter beneath a tree a against a rock recess.

Catching my breath i looked down at the wet and muddy banks water was gushing down  small channels washing away soil to reveal the rock bed that formed the hills i had negotiated.

Setting off i had to be careful of my footing. The mud was so wet it had lost its cohesion and unableto support my weight let alone the weight of my pack as well often slid into a mush letting go of the hill it had been clung to. Steadily and with only a couple of sliding moments i eventually made it down towards the fields at the bottom and across to the solid tarmac of the road.

Turning right on to the road i began to head towards the top of the peninsula, a mere mile away. The wind was relentless though and for every wo steps i made forward i was pushed back a step on occasion,  more. It was a fruitless effort. I was expending great energy and not making any desernable progress. It was quite hopeless. Deciding it was hopeless trying to force my way against the weather i turned my back to the wind and allowed myself to be pushed along the road. Such was the power of the continuous gusts I was now finding myself having to steady my balance as i was whipped from side to side. Being pushed along the road was no fun either. I have no idea how strong the wind was but at timesi was literally moving at a running pace, my knees hurting having to use them to slow the pace down.

It was long before i climbed the hill to  Tayvallich. I'd covered the same distance in just a couple of hours that the previous day had taken me all afternoon to battle through. As i reached the crest of the hill and looked down upon the village, without any kind of warning, the wind dropped. A deadly silence, no movement. All i could hear was the pants of an exhausted hiker gasping for air.

Ahead of me the water in the bay was beginning to calm and the sun was breaking through gaps in the clouds that had shrouded the area. Calmly i walked towards the village reflecting on the adventures I'd had the past 24 hours. It was hard to grasp the fact that the night had been so tough and almost a fight for survival.

Walking through the village felt surreal and in need of a rest and charge for my phone I stopped at the village inn ordered a hot chocolate and sat at a table next to the artificial gas powered wood burner. Gazing out across the bay i noticed a rib floating by, up turned and still attached to its trailer. A bit beyond that another boat sitting low in the water gradually sinking and soon to be the property of davey jones and home to a variety of marine life.

Connected to the inns wifi i decided to check in with Facebook and let everyone know I was safe and to upload the photos I'd taken during previous day. Checking my private messages i replied individually letting the recipient's know all was well and that they shouldn't worry i noticed a message from iain. He, being new to  life on the  trek, had been concerned about my needs for suitable clothing to help me stay safe during the winter months along the west coast of Scotland and had bought me a couple of items I'd mentioned would help me completely the challenge. Although being 102 miles away back in Lochaline he insisted he come to Tayvallich  personally deliver the goods and was keen to spend a night wild camping. During my short although by trek standards,long  stay over Christmas with iain I'd suggested he joined me one night to get a feel of what it was like. Now seemed as good a time as any for me to share the experience.

I carried on to head of loch, it was an easy hike following the loch along the road. As night fell i sought out a nice place to camp with running water and plenty if cover from the weather among the trees. Hoping iain wouldn't pass by i hung my life jacket on a tree and waited.

I'd been settled for a couple of hours when eventually iain pulled up. He hadn't seen my sign but thankfully saw the head torch shining in the darkness. It had been quite a drive for him, about 120 miles, with him he'd brought gifts. Socks, gloves and an mp3 player.

Showing iain the camp site we began setting up his enormous tarp and setup up his camp bunk. That night we sat and chatted while nipper darted around in the woods exploring these unfamiliar surroundings.

As i drifted of to sleep in the comfort of my sleeping bag i wondered how iain and nipper would find wild camping,  something they'd never experienced before.

13th -14th January

13th January day 314

The snow was falling heavily as I prepared myself for the short hike over the hills,  through the forest and down to Carsaig. Checking the weather forecasts for the following days it was obvious the snow wasn't going to be stopping anytime soon. Heading off into the isolation of the wild away from any signs of civilisation was a risky decision and not one to be taken lightly.

From the bridge I followed the canal that queen Victoria once travelled to the nearby village of crinan. Beneath my feet the snow scrunched with a crispand satisfying sound. Snow flakes began falling swirling as they did with the light breeze to lay on the path ahead. It was only a couple of miles before I arrived at the coast again and at the start of the days wilderness forest walk to Carsaig. Across from the harbour on the islands opposite snow was capping the landscape. I wondered as I sat for a short break whether there was enough fresh powder to snowboard the peaks off piste and how much fun it would be finding out. Then i felt an incredible urge to embrace my inner child. It was long and before me stood harold the snowman. Had the snow been deeper i would have probably made a snow angel too.

Continuing along the forest track enjoying the winter wonderland I heard the roar of wind through the trees. A few minutes later and I was engulfed in snow as a blizzard took hold.

Thankfully it was an easy hike following the forest tracks and the blizzard passed over relatively quickly. After a couple of miles and another snow storm i began to descend from the hills to lower ground and back towards the coast. My left shoulder was beginning to hurt again, it wasa problem i had endured now for quite some time and knew it would continue til i made it back to Southampton.

Carsaig bay was now in sight,  with one last push and jiggle of my pack i soldiered towards it, the final leg of the day.

14th Jan day 315

Fresh snow lay thinly on the ground and thunder clapped like a nuclear explosion a few miles away. Deciding to wait till the storm passed I eventually left Carsaig bay around 12:30 and made my way along the western coastline. About half a mile into the days journey I was stopped in my tracks where cliffs met the waters edge. Startling some sheep I watched as they darted through a gap in an old stone wall I was following. It looked as though that would be my only way round without having to head back the way I had come. The only problem was that I would have to ascend a small rocky wall to get to the top of the hills behind and continue on. The rubber trousers I was wearing although waterproof were extremely restrictive as was the thick fishermans floatation jacket. The climb was considerably more difficult than it would have been if I'd been wearing the right gear. My bulky pack also caused me difficulty catching on the branches of trees growing out from the face. Despite almost loosing my balance and falling I soldiered through to emerge at the top.

After a couple of miles hiking the baron wilderness the weather changed quite dramatically and as night began to fall it became apparent that I wouldn't make it to the safety of the woods on the island of Dana. Spotting a couple of ruins across a small bay I decided to seek shelter. Looking around the old stone buildings I could see setting up camp would be difficult. Behind the second ruin I spotted a small stone wall which provided some protection from the wind which was building up to quite a force. Laying nearby were fallen branches which I bound together using the cable ties I'd been given by roto some months before. It was far from perfect but laying and Tieing the tarp over the top I managed to construct a small bivouac just large enough to sit under out of the ensuing storm.

It was going to be a long and uncomfortable night with temperatures near freezing,  the rain driving between the gaps in the wall and the wind hammering on the tarp. Not sure if I'd survive the night I made myself up a chilli con carne and coffee and hoped the weather would die down before I did.

Getting a few hours sleep I was sharply awaken around 2:30am by a the deafening sound of the tarp as incredible gusts of wind hit camp. As I lay beneath  estimating the force of the gusts at around 50-60mph I wondered if there would be anything left of my shelter in the morning.

10th -12th January

10th Jan day 311

Starting at kilmelford I headed off to make my way around loch shuna. My plan for the day was to head to the marina at the mouth of the loch by the road then follow the coast until I reached the point of the peninsula where I would camp up either in some woods or find an open barn or building to shelter in. It was a simple plan and although a fair distance I felt sure I'd be able to make it as long as the skies remained clear and the weather held off. As I walked along the road I was able to see the damage caused by the storm that had hit the west coast of Scotland the night before. Trees were snapped like tooth picks.

The weather was being particularly indecisive althoughit was quite reasonable when I'd set off sleat and hail followed a short sunny break and 20 minute snow storm. They say in Scotland that if you don't like the weather wait 20 minutes.

I arrived at the marina around lunchtime. From the marina I took a track to an old path that, although was overgrown with trees, would take me down to the coastline and the start of the afternoons mission. Trees had fallen across the old footpath making progress hard to the bay and pier.

Having to climb over rocks and boulders was quite a normal exercise whilst trekking the British coast and today being a normal day this was no exception. It was however somewhat gusty and the sea was far from calm. As i continued to follow the coastline clambering over the rocks i found myself sprayed by fine salty droplets as waves rolled in with tremendous force.

The wind was exceptionally strong in fact which made keeping my balance a little difficult in places, my pack once again like the sail on a yacht. The going was hard but it wasn't tough and finding an old cottage i took a short breather out of the elements sheltering behind a small wooden shed.

Leaving the  cottage i headed back to the rocky shore determined to make it all the way to the point before nightfall. The wind was proving hard to walk against and new rubber trousers were tough to walk in.

Attempting to climb a small rock wall but unable to get my leg high enough I slipped. My face planting firmly into a tuft of grass. How I never broke my nose I will never know. Finding suitable clothing has proved difficult and something I had yet to master.

i continued on along the coast through a small  woodland with cliffs to my left and somewhat  boggy underfoot. I emerged to an exposed landscape as lightening struck twice out to sea. Both times i counted. First thunder took  two seconds  and the second one and a half. The storm was getting closer.

As I continued around the coast it suddenly darkened as the clouds obscured the light of day. With only a few more miles to go I put my head torch on and set off. Night fell quickly and I was unable to see very far I had to make the decision to find water and shelter.  Thankfully water wasn't too far away and I could make out the outline of trees across the field from me. I headed over. By the time I got there it was pitch black so finding a little shelter I decided to stop and set up camp.

Tieing a rope between two trees and securing my tarp to the base of five more I climbed beneath and began boiling the water I'd collected to make myself something to eat and a mug of hot chocolate. The wind began picking up and from nowhere a heavy shower of hail fell around me. It was getting extremely cold now and if I wasn't careful I'd find myself in a dangerous situation with the chance of hypothermia and possibly frost bite.

Beneath the tarp the ground was lumpy and rocky. It was unlike any camp I'd experienced til then and far from perfect. Unable to lay out on a level ground I curled up into a small ball to try and keep warm. As the air got colder I could feel pins and needles in my toes. My sweaty legs threatening to turn to ice. I needed to keep myself warm throughout the night while I lay there waiting for day to break. I unrolled my bivibag and pulled out my sleeping bag. Removing my boots and waterproof rubber trousers I struggled to climb in. My new jacket although warm was cumbersome and made moving around in the confines of the tarp and sleeping bag. Shuffling around I eventually managed to cover myself up and almost instantly felt my body warming to a comfortable temperature. Wedging my backside into a divet on the slope and using my pack to prop my head I slowly became more comfortable and eventually drifted off to sleep.

It was nearly 1am when I woke. A little confused and disoriented I ventured out from beneath the tarp to water the garden. The wind had died down now and the air felt warmer although still cold. Looking around I inspected my make shift home. Everything was still in place and had held up well. Only another 8 more hours and I'd be able to continue with the trek and reach the end of the point, my intended destination for the day.

11th Jan day 312

It was a dreary and damp morning when I finally awoke under the tarp. The wind had died down considerably so I made myself up a breakfast and coffee before collapsing camp to head off again to find the point of the peninsula.

With rain still pouring down and the wind side swiping my pack I figured it would be a tough and dangerous challenge to attempt to follow the shoreline. Opting for a more sheltered and safer route I followed a track from the far side of the bay up to a tarmac drive taking me passed what looked like a modern high rise building but I think it was probably once a manor house or castle.

Following the road down to the car park at the point I took a short breather in the remains of what I can only assume was a ticket or passenger hut for a ferry that may or may not have left the point to destinations unknown.  To be honest I have no idea what the building was for but the description seemed to fit.

It was soon time for me to make a move again and brave the weather. My intention was to get to the head of the loch passed ardfern where I hoped I would meet up with iain once again.

Heading off towards the very tip of the peninsula I had to cross boggy ground in appalling conditions.  Extremely grateful for my new wet weather gear I felt warm and dry. Unable to go any further south I followed the coastline keeping the sea to my right until I reached the coastal road to ardfern. The road now as close to the water as I could possibly hope the following walk was easy. Enjoying the views and passing near to a shipwreck lodged a few yards from the shore I soon saw the small village of ardfern ahead.

Arriving at the village pub I popped in for a hot chocolate and was pleasantly surprised when iain walked through the doors. Sitting enjoying our hot drinks I told iain of the previous days adventures. Offering to take my pack to the head of the loch for me I arranged to meet the dynamic duo a little later.

Outside the weather hadn't improved at all but with the hot chocolate coursing through my veins I set off determined to at least get to the top of the loch before nightfall,  5pm. It only took me an hour os so to reach the junction and an unusual sculpture of an enormous hand clenched with index finger pointing in the direction I'd just come from. Despite the challenging night and difficult weather I felt the past two days had been quite successful and although I suffered great hardship and little sleep I enjoyed the challenges presented to me.

12th Jan day 313

Leaving the enormous finger I headed along the main road expecting torrential rain and high winds. With occasional hail showers and forceful gusts I wanted to get as far as I could. The road seemed to be the safest route I could take although as the day progressed and the weather calmed I couldn't help but wonder if a coastal hike would have been possible. Deciding it would have been ridiculous to turn back and attempt it especially after six miles hiking I carried on. I don't think I'd ever been this far from the waters edge during the whole trek and certainly for such a long time.

Arriving at Kilmartin I was able to follow a well marked footpath away from the noise of the cars and lorries hurtling along. I hadn't walked far before I came across what appeared to be a pile of large stones. I'd seen plenty of these piles along my journey but never really knew what they were. To be honest I thought that farmers had simply gathered them from the fields to make room for their cattle and sheep or to grow crops. I couldn't have been more wrong. These unassuming huge piles of stone were in fact ancient burial sites. Over the following miles I would come across three sites the first being the most complete with a hatch allowing visitors to descend into the chamber beneath. As I entered the cairn down the steep steps I was confronted with a small rectangular grave absent of its previous tenant. The body would have been placed into a fetal position to rest and a large stone with bronze axe heads laid on top. I felt like indiana jones.

The second cairn was in considerably worse condition to the first with the stones scattered about the site and only one visible burial chamber, much the same size as the first. The third tomb was still in reasonable condition and I was able to drop down inside to take a closer look.

Continuing on with my quest to conquer the British coast albeit a fair distance from the water I arrived at another ancient burial site. This one was very different to the first three and consisted of two stone circles.  The larger of the two were adorned by large standing stones with a grave in the centre. As I looked around I realised that if I'd hiked the shore then I wouldn't have come across these fascinating relics of our ancestors. How many other interesting sites had I missed along the way.  What would I have come across if I'd ventured more inland.  I guess I'd never really know.

I still had plenty of miles to cover when I found myself at a junction. Without a map I really had no idea which way to head. Taking a chance I decided to turn left and without the sea to aid my navigation I knew all I had to rely on was hope, plain and simple.

It was coming up to 4pm when I I came across a rather apt sign post the wording reading "long walk" although I was pretty sure it was pointing the wrong way. The sun was now beginning to set but I'd felt lucky that the majority of the day was dry although a tad windy. Walking another mile or so I spotted across some fields for the first time that afternoon the sea way off in the distance. At least I now knew I was heading roughly the right way.

It only took me an hour or so following the incredibly straight road to crinan swing bridge, my final destination for the day.

4th - 9th January

4th Jan day 305

Leaving the Atlantic bridge i crossed the muddy shoreline towards a field, it was a lovely sunny day. I'd felt a little nervous that morning after chatting with iain the night before while sipping on a pint of orange juice and lemonade in the pub opposite. Even though I'd spent several weeks in his company chatting long into the night about my experiences he still didn't really know me and what my true ablities were. My nerves soon settled though and it didn't take me long to get my head back into the game.

Unable to make my way directly along the waters edge i diverted myself up into the shallow hills forcing my way through the dead foliage and avoiding the saturated pits of mud. On the other side i was confronted with a thickly packed woodland segregated fromthe fields by a small rusting wire fence. Instead of following the fence inland i decided to take a chance and headed back towards the water. The gamble paid off. Hopping over the fence and with the tide out i was fortunate enough to be able to make my way in front of the woods and rocky shores to a slipway where i could climb back up to grassy banks and the site of some old ruins.

It didn't seem to matter how many derelict stone buildings i came across i was always fascinated by the forgotten history behind them. As i wandered among the remains of the old buildings i pondered the stories they were concealing. I wondered what family life was like and pictured in my mind children running around outside, mother baking bread and father tending to his sheep. The laughter of the children, a brother and sister,  filled the air and father mumbling curses as he attempted to inspect his flock. Mother was content and humming to herself as she watched her children enjoying the fresh air and wide open spaces.

Further along and beyond the fields i could see a formidable section of coast with steep slopes packed with trees, the closer I got the more daunting the prospect of having to negotiate the terrain. As i reached the start of my next challenge i came upon an  old path. It was barely recognisable and had obviously been forgotten over the years.

The footpath had been claimed by the forest, trees and debris covering the way. I knew it was a path though, it felt man made and two lines of carefully placed rocks running parallel to each other guided me along the slopes deep into the woods. I  wondered how far it would stretch and if it would take me the full distance. At times it was hard o distinguish where the path once lay and in some places mud slides completely obscured it. It wasn't difficult joining the sections that remained and added a small amount of excitement  to this small adventure.

Emerging on the far side of the woods I felt good knowing I was probably the first person in a very  long time to make the walk. The landscape somewhat opened up the further away from the sloped i walked and seeing a large cave in the cliffs to my left I hoped it would add a further  unexpected adventure to the day but alas it was shallow. A mere recess which from afar looked like a gaping abyss. The east coast had provided me with many caves to explore but i was feeling let down  by the caves I had discovered along the west coast. Deciding to take a short breather i sat myself down on a large boulder and immersed myself in the beauty before me.

From the cave i continued to follow the coast passing a bay overlooked by a grand castle. Iain had asked me to pop in to pass on a new years message to the owner but after knocking on the door and nobody appeared i decided to continue on my way. The next mile or so was easy, a track led me towards the head land and my next challenge of the day.

At the end of the track i approached a small workshop. Donald was a fisherman and while he was landward bound the workshop was where he spent his days. Mostly maintaining his boats but often enjoying the views having spent many a weekend camped up on the grass just outside. As with many west coasters Donald after exchanging greetings invited me inside for a coffee and a chat. Discussing the way ahead i discovered that deer had left a trail which potentially could get me around the headland as long as the tide was out. Again it looked like local knowledge would assist my efforts completing my challenge.

After being pointed in the direction of the start of the trail i headed off. Looking ahead i knew that at some point the way would become a tad hairy in places. Taking a deep breath and strategically planning ahead i followed the trails along the slopes towards cliffs that would eventually challenge my abilities to their limits as well as my nerves.

My  first impressions when I eventually made it to the bottomof the cliffs was "ok, no problem. As long as the tide is far enough out i can make it ", it wasn't. Climbing down to the kelp strewn boulders i peered ahead.  The tide was coming in and had drowned the way forward. Too deep to wade across and around the headland i started summizing alternative routes climbing onto a narrow ledge to get a better feel for the task ahead. There were places to grab as handholds and reasonable places for my feet but the rock was damp and slippery. I made a couple of attempts but deciding that once committed there was no going back and just one false move I'd at the very least be getting wet i turned back, a little disappointed. I was still wearing the steel toe capped boots I'd been given at the glensanda quarry. Fine for working in a quarry but not so good for climbing rock faces. Taking one last look i decided the risk of injury was too great and headed back to the grassy slopes to look for another alternative way to get over.

Looking up the slope from the bottom i thought i could see a potential way to the top. It meant a fairly easy scramble to what climbers refer to as the crux, the key to a successful ascent, the hardest part of the climb. Stood beneath the crux i looked up. It seemed possible, a narrow but manageable rocky incline. I just needed to get passed about four feet of wild grasses and tree roots.

Digging beneath the fauna i sought out something to grab to haul myself up. I needed secure places for my hands and feet.  It was steep, very steep and the fall was great. By great i mean one hell of a long way down. Not feeling too confident about the stability of the rocks or security of the roots once again i turned back and retreated to a safe ledge to reasses the route. Deciding that once again the risk of failure with, this time, potentially fatal results was too great i continued back a short way to seek out a third alternative route over the top of the headland.

I didn't need to go too far before i spotted it. A long scramble to the top. Yes it was steep but it wasn't too steep and wouldn't require any serious or technical ability to achieve. The risks were low and the rewards would be fair. It was at least worthy of a crack at it.

Reaching the top was simpler than I'd anticipated and picking up a sheep trail near the top made the scramble that much easier. The trail followed the headland round a foot or so from the edge and after a short walk dropped down into the next bay.

From the bay the hike was to be quite relaxing and i was able to enjoy the views. Finding an old quarry  track that passed an unremarkable lime kiln i continued to follow the shore into some woods.

The track eventually ended but I continued stumbling on a deer grazing unaware of my presence. I stopped to watch for a while before heading off once more further into the woods. On the far side I found myself back at the shore line again which I was easily able to follow. I wasn't far from the rendezvous point where I was sure iain was waiting for me, probably worrying about me as he seemed to often do. Obviously he still hadn't worked out that no matter what I would always pull through.

Coming across a gravel track that led up towards a tarmac road I hiked up to see if I was were we had agreed to meet. I'd actually managed to go further than expected so gave iain a quick call to let him know. A few minutes later I heard the sound of his vw speeding along. As he pulled up I could see by his face he had been worried once again.

5th Jan day 306

Outside the wind had begun to pick up again and the sky blocked out by a thick vale of white cotton clouds. I'd checked the weather forecasts the night before and was expecting heavy rain and potentially a day or two of storms and strong gales. I was pleased with the progress I'd made during the previous days so decided to take a couple of days out to catch up on my blogs and relax. After all the coast wasn't going anywhere and i was massively behind schedule anyway. Iain wasn't feeling well either, man flu. Digging out some pain killers from my pack i dosed him up and made sure the stubborn old man rested, although he fought it all the finally falling asleep after I'd told him some of my more boring stories and anecdotes.

6th Jan  day 307

Woke with a coffee by iain although it had been raining, by the time I'd got dressed it was quite Clement with large gaps of blue amongst whispering fluffy clouds. My muscles were hurting though. The break over Christmas had taken its toll on me and made me soft. Deciding not to over do it having learnt the hard way at the beginning of the trek i decided another day off wouldn't hurt.

7th Jan day 308

A huge weather front was now being predicted by the forecasters. Torrential rain, extremely high winds and hazardous conditions were now threatening to hit the west coast. I'd not planned to be in Scotland at this time of year. In fact I'd planned to be finished by November. Without the right gear heading out to conquer what remained of the coast would have been suicidal. Something i am not.

Iain was now returning to his normal happy self and admitted he hadn't had anyone look after him whilst ill before let alone treating him like a sick child, which he was. To show his gratitude he insisted we visited the chandlery in oban to see if we could find a jacket and trousers that would remain waterproof and provide good protection from the extreme weather conditions of the west coast. Figuring that fishermen would have to work day in and day out under these and possibly worse conditions it seemed a fair assumption that the outer clothing they wore would potentially suit a hiker attempting to walk the coastline. I must admit the theory seemed solid enough and the cost ofthe clothing would be considerably less than that of designer brands such north face and berghaus.

8th jan day 309

The weather front was now approaching the shores of Scotland just as the forecasts had predicted. Although deep down i wanted to continue my journey i knew the sensible choice was to stay put for another day.

I'd ordered another pair of salomon boots a few days earlier after learning the limitations of the steel toe caps and as i already knew and were comfortable with the make was happy when they arrived. In comparison they were extremely light and putting them on felt snug and comfortable.

As predicted later that day after a short snow storm incredible gales hit the area and i was pleased to be out of the weather and in the warmth and dry.

9th Jan day 310

With the storm now passed it was time to get back to the trek. From where iain and i had held up whilst waiting for the storms to pass it took almost a full day to get to ardfern which was near where I'd left the trek the few days earlier. The storm had taken its toll on this village and completely knocked out the power for miles around.

By the time we arrived it was dark so I suggested iain took a room at the inn and I'd sleep on the floor ready for an early start the following day.

2nd -3rd January

2nd January day 303

After windy night thinking caravan could end up upside down woke to breakfast and made plans to attempt the headland minus pack but instead taking nipper along for the walk.

Being dropped off at the locked gate with nipper we followed a gravel path up to field only to discover that it was part of the caravan park and we would have just as easily walked from the caravan instead of using the car.

Nipper and i crossed the field to tackle our first obstacle,  a low fence. First over was nipper and I followed.  Now entering the wild grass covered hills of minard point we headed up and away from gallanachmore.

Spotting sheep grazing ahead nipper darted off eager for a chase. Thankfully the lead brought an abrupt end to turmoil and I was able to bring the excitable dogs misadventure. At the top of the hill the slope dropped into a valley and I could see gallanach house with its interesting gothic architecture. It would have been nice to have had a closer look but the reclusive owner and his fortified gates made it impossible. Reaching the bottom of the Valley It became apparent and entirely obvious the trek that day was going to be tough. Ahead of us was an extremely steep climb. The terrain covered with dead ferns and heather. Looking around for a safe way to ascend I spotted an old path heading up. With Nippers lead tangled on heathers he somehow got himself hog tied. Stopping half way up I managed to untie the mischievous pup and we carried on. The total distance I'd anticipated covering that day was quite small, only a few miles and it should have taken only a couple of hours but as we made our way over the top I could see the landscape dotted with humps, bumps and lumps would prove difficult to negotiate and in order to get to our destination we'd need to wind our way around adding a few more miles onto our journey.

In the distance dark clouds had begun to form in the clear skies and without warning nipper and I found ourselves in a snow storm. It was amazing at how quickly the air temperature dropped and the winds picked up into a gale. Snow began falling heavily so I darted and took shelter behind a small mound. Nipper jumped up on me and sat on my chest. Keeping one eye on nipper and one eye on the weather I wondered how long it would be till we saw a small break in the storm.  A window for which we could make a little more progress and get to lower ground.

10 minutes passed and sure enough the snow stopped, the wibd dropped and I could feel the warmth of the sun once more. Without a second thought I got up and headed in the direction of some argo tracks which appeared to have originated from the farm I was intending to head for. Even if they weren't from there I figured they must have come from somewhere and would lead me to lower ground.

After continuing to follow the track across the wilderness for a mile or so we headed up to higher ground to get some kind of bearings. Completely exposed I struggled to stay up right against the forces if strong winds.  I was however able to see feochan loch and the farm house I was heading for confirmed by looking at the satellite images on my phone.

The hike down from the top of the hill to a track leading to the farmhouse was steep and in places slippery but by carefully plotting ahead in my mind we soon headed down from our viewpoint and into a warmer climate sheltered by the hills surrounding us.

At the bottom I followed the track towards lerags and called iain to meet us opposite ardoran (Means high point of the otters) marina.

While chatting to iain that evening over pepperoni pizza and garlic naan bread iain told me of his admiration for me and how much of an accomplishment I'd made getting as far as I had. Although I'd heard it before I still didn't feel it. After all anyone could do what I was doing if they put their mind to it. As far as I was concerned I was simply walking home, not that I had a home to actually go to once I would arrive back in Southampton.

3rd January day 304

Feeling a little chesty I woke to a very different morning to that of previous days. With no wind, clear skies and the sun casting an orange glow over the hills on the island opposite I sat to indulge in another of iains wonderful fried breakfasts and prepared myself for the hike ahead.

Dropping me off where I'd been picked up from the day before I began the long walk around the head of the loch and down the other side avoiding the road as much as possible and Clambering over kelp and seaweed covered rocks and stones. It was a gorgeous day and a complete contrast to the adventure nipper and I had had the day before.

At the end of the loch i met iain and decided to take nipper on another adventure. We headed along the road to balnacarry farm and down to the beach.  nipper was once again excited at seeing sheep but once again the lead put an abrupt end to his mischief. With the tyke under control we climbed a small fence and followed a boggy track towards some ruins of a cottage. Opposite the cottage was the opening to a large cave, one worthy of further investigation.

The cave was about 20 feet wide and a good 10 feet high but only went back a short distance. Ivy was hanging from above and water dripped from the rocks. It was a little disappointing.  I'd hoped it would go further back into the rock or possibly lead to some tunnels.  My search for an impressive cave would have to continue and with this one fully investigated which didn't take long at all, my adventuring partner and I continued on the days trek.

We'd only walked a short distance before the route I'd decided to take became a little more challenging. The easy going flat shoreline abruptly ended with a low fence and a steep rocky slope towering some 50 metres above us. Dropping nipper over the fence I followed to take a closer look at what lay ahead. Running along the waters edge and out of sight were large boulders with barely enough room for us to traverse. Looking up from the boulders was a  grassy slope to the hills above too steep to climb. Our choices were simple,  either go back or go forward. Not one to be easily beaten by such obstacles I decided to attempt the traverse with nipper in tow. Would the little terrier manage such a journey,  I wasn't sure but I knew the little bugger had enthusiasm and an energetic nature so without thinking too long about it we both set off climbing over the rocky terrain with boulders as large as a small car and loose rocks crumbling beneath us. At times our movements dislodged large lumps of rock sending them to the sea below, nipper rapidly following them as if they beckoned a chase.

I took it slow and steady while nipper showed extreme dexterity in climbing and tackling the challenging objects and ledges,  often heading up the slope a talent I found myself a little jealous of.

Eventually we reached a stony shore and disused quarry with stones piled high like small mountains. Beyond the quarry we came across a stone dyke which made for an easy hike towards a small woodland.

Getting closer to the woodland I noticed an unusual construction. It was set back from the water opposite an island among the trees. A wooden framework of thick branches and small tree trunks supported a plastic tarpaulin sheet. From the top petruded a metal chimney stack and out from that belowed smoke. From the silence of the woods I could hear deep drone. It all seemed a little out of place and I wondered who would live so far away from the nearest village in such a makeshift shelter. As I approached I could see that whom ever was staying there had established quite a home. Large Slates had been lay in the muddy paths around the camp and a second smaller shelter had been constructed to house a small generator. Outside I found a weight lifters bench with two very heavy looking dumb bells. Coconuts had been shaped and hung on string  and a bird table made for birds to feed from. I was intrigued.

As i approached the doorway i called out to see if anyone was home. To my surprise a young man appeared. He was well built and had obviously been using the weights outside. Stuart parkinson had been in the services 15 years prior and from the chat that followed was suffering from post traumatic stress disorder possibly gulf war syndrome. Convinced the army were trying to disrupt his sleep by beaming ultra sonic sound waves into his make shift domicile i assured him i wasn't ever in the military even though i was dressed head to toe in combat gear. The conversation continued at break neck speed, i don't think stuart had socialised with many people whilst living his reclusive life in the wild. He then insisted on showing me two small scars, it was becoming more like an episode of the X files, the first scar looked like a small incision at the base of his neck where military officials had jabbed something in while he was training on the ranges and the second in his right calf muscle which he thought was some kind of tracker. Being extremely open stuart went on to explain how he'd been attacked by police and sent to a mental hospital for treatment. It  was all quite sad really as all he wanted was to emigrate, marry and settle down. After saying goodbye i began to wonder how stuart had ended up living on the verge and why his previous employers hadn't helped him to reintegrate into society after serving his country.

Away from stuarts camp i entered into a small woodland and crossed boggy terrain toend up at the Atlantic bridge where i met up with iain in the pub over the bridge. The Atlantic bridge is the only bridge to cross the Atlantic onto the small island liess. The island is only a few metres from the mainland and arguably you could say the stretch of water that separates the two is really a tidal river.

1st January day 302

It was a late start to the day after a wet and windy night. it was a new year, 2015. Who would have thought I'd still be in Scotland during the winter something I really wanted to avoid. Not having ever experienced harsh weather fronts on the south coast I was in a less than perfect location with what little kit I was carrying and clothing I was wearing. While slowly emptying the contents of one of my freeze dried breakfast rations I found myself once again hoping for better weather. I wasn't after much just dry weather, it could drop to -10 and I'd be happy.

Feeling the warmth of the nutritious freeze dried oats warming me inside I packed up and before heading off I switched on my phone to check to see if I had any texts and to check in with followers of the challenge. The first message I received was from iain, he'd left the comfort of his home in Lochaline to come see me, tarp, sleeping bag, food and nipper packed into his car. He wanted to experience the conditions of the trek first hand. Knowing iain, no matter how much he insisted,  would not last a night in the wild I found myself looking forward to seeing him squirm and moan as he settled into trek life way out from his comfort zone. I just hoped he'd get to experience the hardships I'd endured regularly to help him appreciate what was involved with hiking the coast. I immediately replied and arranged to meet up further along the road before going into the wild at the end of the road.

I then set off on the short hike, a mere couple of miles to the end of the road I was camped next to. Arriving at the designated meeting place I took off my pack and waited. A set of black gates were now blocking my progress, an electronic keypad requiring a code. It was a couple of hours before I saw the familiar headlights of the black vw.

Pulling up alongside me I could see iain really wasn't prepared for a night in the rain, with temperatures dropping potentially to freezing in fact the kit he'd brought with him was totally unsuitable and certainly impossible to carry into the wilderness. Looking around nearby I was unable to find a clearing big enough to make camp for the three of us. This was going to be a big problem now and feeling responsible for both iain and nipper alternative shelter needed to be found.

I was reluctant to climb into his car but with no other options presenting themselves to me I suggested we find somewhere back along the road. I'd seen a cave in the cliffs near to oban caravan park and thought that maybe that would be sufficient to shelter us all from the weather.

As we headed back along the road iain suggested we stopped at the caravan park praying to god for a place to stay as we passed.

Pulling up outside the reception iain left the car and knocked on the door while I sat planning ahead and trying to determine how I could make my guests feel more comfortable. When iain returned he had a big smile on his face. Explaining how he'd managed to wangle a caravan after mentioning the trek to the owners judy and Kevin,  who'd been following my progress on Facebook, I couldn't help be feel that accepting would in some way be cheating. Although deep down I really didn't want to accept I felt obliged to ensure the safety of the two adventurers and accepted the kind offer of the luxury shelter. The trek had now become a joke and, although I didn't mention anything, I felt extremely disappointed in myself for failing the challenge I had set. What made it worse was that I knew my limits and I would have rather died than to flaunt the simple rules I'd set down before leaving Southampton. Despite my personal feelings though I needed to ensure the safety of both iain and nipper and seeing the look of excitement on iains face I had to accept my failure.

31st December ( day 301 )

It was a miserable morning. After having a couple of reasonable days hiking I had been looking forward to ending the year with a good days hike through oban but with rain pouring from the heavens I began to dread the hike ahead.

Having spotted a public toilet next to the castle the evening before I headed over leaving the comfort of the tarp and the warmth of the sleeping bag. A sign beside the entrance stated the facilities were for paying customers only. Well, I thought,  if anyone was to question me about buying tickets to enter the castle I'd explain that my only alternative would be to go in the woods and leave the rest to the imagination.

With the weather threatening to turn sour I packed up camp as quickly as possible and headed through the woods down to a stony beach following a muddy footpath hopping over large puddles then up to small grassy footpath round in front of the cliffs on the far side.

Making my way along the cliff face path was relatively easy although in places I had to scramble up slippery rocks while pushing fallen branches out of my way. I'd almost made it all the way along when I came across a small problem. A naturally formed dyke had formed and the footpath was no longer continuous but had in fact collapsed into the sea below.

Determined to continue along the path I'd been following and so close to the end with gallanach in sight I took a good look at possible ways to step across the ominous gap and climb the slippery rock face the other side to rejoin the footpath. Climbing into a couple of different positions and evaluating the potential of success I eventually decided against attempting the climb in favour of heading back and finding a way over the cliffs above.

It was a gutting decision to make but it was the safest. It didn't take me long to make my way back along the path and find a way over the top and down towards the small community I was heading towards. As I descended from the hill the rain began to fall heavily. From ganavan I was able to follow the road into oban.  As I drew closer the winds increased and the rain drove hard. Walking along the prom I began feeling hungry and had an overwhelming urge for a full breakfast. Bacon, eggs, beans and toast. I only knew of one place I knew I'd be able to satisfy my cravings, Carolyns cafe.

On my way to the cafe I'd popped into before my interview with the oban times a week or so earlier I met iain once again. He'd been down to the oban times offices to get latest copy of the newspaper.

After my late breakfast/lunch i headed south from the town and camped in wooded area next to the road ready to see the new year in.

30th December ( day 300 )

For some unknown reason I found myself awake at 4:30 am for the second time running. Unlike the day before though instead of going straight back to sleep I decided to have an early breakfast and catch up on my blogs before wrapping myself back up in my sleeping bag and getting some extra sleep. It had been raining during the night which sounds dreadful but in lue of the fact I was low on water meant I could drain some caught in the tarp for an extra coffee.

It wasn't til 8:45am I finally woke again. It had stopped raining and wasn't feeling too cold in the slightest in fact it was quite mild. I made another coffee before collapsing camp and continuing with the trek.

I left the woods and headed to the beach and on towards Benderloch. From Benderloch I continued on towards Connel bridge going round connel airport which was constructed the second world war. The beach running in front of the airport was probably longest beach i had hiked along in quite a while. Reaching the end of the beach and just before I crossed the bridge which I understand had been flown under by a second world war pilot in a spitfire I spotted a small fur ball I easily recognised. Iain had decided to catch up with me on my trek to see how I was doing and to treat me to lunch. It was great seeing them both again.

After an extended lunch break we three continued on together to dunstaffnage castle, well when I say together I mean I walked and iain and nipper drove.

Meeting up again an hour or so later using my head torch we all walked up to the castle and into the woods to find somewhere to setup camp. Both iain and nipper helping to get the tarp pitched although I think it would have been easier without the help of nipper.

27th December ( day 297 )

It was a slow start to the day, iain and I had chatted long into the early hours of the morning. Exchanging stories, jokes and discussing the remaining 3000-odd miles of the challenge. As normal the breakfast stuff was laid out on the table and nipper was full of energy, leaping up at me as I entered the dining room on my way to the bathroom.

With everything packed and running a little behind schedule iain, nipper and myself jumped into the car so that I could be dropped off back at the corran ferry crossing where I'd left the trek some days before. On the way we stopped off in Strontian for a quick hot chocolate and slice of chocolate cake which had become a bit of a custom any time we happened to pass.

Once back where I'd left off it was time to say "until next time", again. I'd had a fantastic Christmas break and one that not only did I need but also one that I will remember for the rest of my life with a new friendship that I have no doubt will stand the test of time.

Leaving nipper and iain behind I set off along the road heading back towards the coastline. All around snow capped mountains towered above me. It felt great being back in the open air my lungs filling with every breath with the clean and crisp fresh Highland air. Somehow during my Christmas break I'd forgotten what it was like to be truly free. Free from the confines of brick and mortar. Free from the ties of everyday life wrapped up in buzz of modern life. My prime evil instincts were quickly returning and my determination to complete the challenge filled my heart and soul gaining strength with every footstep.

As I made my way I remembered the good times I'd had and chuckled at the bad, rough and extreme circumstances I'd endured. I was feeling alive.

Time passed quickly as did the miles. The sun began to set and the temperature began to bite. As the sky changed colour the white of the snow above changed to orange and salmon pink. It was a truly beautiful sunset a vision I'd missed and forgotten about.

Darkness soon enveloped my surroundings and eventually I had to stop to take my head torch out to light my way. I was beginning to feel hungry as I crossed the Skelton of a steel bridge passing an old memorial on the far side lit by two lanterns, candles flickering an orange glow against the grey stone, a warming sight.

It wasn't late and I wanted to continue but knew that I should make camp at the earliest opportunity. I passed a hotel and wondered what festive frolics were taking place inside. Next to the hotel was a large expanse of frosted trimmed grass. I could see small clumps of trees ideal for setting up my tarp and calling home for the night. Passing a small stream I headed towards the nearest copse and made camp. There was less frost on the ground among the trees than on the grass surrounding me. With my home erected I grabbed my empty bottles and went to collect fresh water, enough for a welcome evening meal, mug of hot chocolate and breakfast the following morning.

As I made my way back to my shelter I passed a small wooden sign. "4th tee" it was now apparent my home would be in the middle of a golf course.

24th-26th December

24th December day 294

It was Christmas eve. Never in my wildest dreams had I envisaged still being in the Highlands over Christmas, I'll be honest I couldn't think of anywhere better than to be staying with such fine company as iain. Our friendship had blossomed during the weeks I'd spent in Lochaline.

Waking up feeling much better than the previous day I was eager to get some fresh air so when iain suggested that we headed up into the hills to feed the deer I leapt at the chance. Once we'd arrived at the estate we climbed into the four wheel drive vehicle and loaded with deer feed we set off up the gravel tracks high above the glen. It was immediately apparent that the cold weather had effected these hardy beasts which had sought shelter from the cold in the lower parts of the hills. The weather throughout the Highlands was considerably more extreme than I had been prepared for and without the right kit I would surely have found myself in serious trouble.

25th December day 295

It was Christmas day, as I sat down for breakfast nipper was, as usual,  leading around with excitement, santa had also stopped by during the night leaving two nicely wrapped gifts on the table. The first gift was from nipper, a couple of packets of Scottish tablet and a packet of fudge. The second from iain, a small box of whisky flavoured tablet. Both extremely well thought gifts and enough sugar to keep me trekking for weeks.

Outside the weather was calm and the sun was out. Snow still capped the mountains but had melted lower down. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky. I was hopeful that the trend would continue long into the new year a mere week away.

Iain was keen for me to see a small cottage he often spent time at across the loch and along the coast. He'd told me stories of his time there and shown me photos.  To get there we would have to take iains rib. With the boat hitched up to the car we headed down to the Lochaline slipway and I stood back as the boat was launched.

On our way to the cottage iain took the helm and we made our way hugging the shore passing the different rock formations that made up the towering clifffaces and passed the ruins of an old castle. As we skirted across the calm waters iain filled my head with historic stories of people being shoved in barrels and thrown to the sea below, stories of a local staying in a cave to have a quiet dram away from the wife.

We passed a small rock with seals lazing in the sun and met a couple of porpoises before mooring up near the cottage set in an idyllic location adorned by a small woodland. Instantly I could see why iain Found this place so special,  it was quiet and out of the way with the only access being either by foot over the inhospitable hills behind or by boat. Once Iain had rowed us ashore in his small dingy we went in to the cottage, which had two rooms downstairs and two upstairs,  and had coffee with donuts before taking a lovely stroll along the shore.

First stop was to an extremely unique outside toilet. When I say outside I literally mean outside. With no walls obscuring the views the porcelain potty complete with flush sat among the bracken with perfect views across the beach as far as the eye could see. Richard Branson wasn't the only one who had a loo with a view. We then continued to what iain referred to as the point where he believed the vikings built and launched long boats.

Nipper was loving the wide open spaces and was running round like a lunatic although he didn't quite understand the rules of fetch. I'd throw a stick, he'd chase after it, bring it back then when I went to retrieve it for another round he'd run off, stick in mouth.

Arriving back a the cottage after our Christmas day walk iain asked me to write a little something about the experience in a journal he kept.

(Photos posted on Facebook)

Several pages, a coffee and a donut later I'd finished my little story of three intrepid explorers and it was time to head back to Lochaline.  This time I was at the helm and hugging the coast with its cliffs looming over us.

Safely back at the slipway I handed over the reigns and let iain land the boat and rehitch it to the trailer. That evening we sat down for a full on turkey roast with all the trimmings before retiring to the lounge to watch tv for the first time since I'd stopped there.

26th December day 296

Boxing day. I'm still not sure why its called boxing day but I'm sure one day I will. The weather was still pretty good although considerably colder than the day before. Clouds had filled the sky but there was very little breeze and the air felt dry. I was planning to head off back to the trek the following day which meant my time in Lochaline was drawing to an end. That is until I revisited sometime in the future to explore the area with iain in greater detail with climbing gear.

One of the things I'd really wanted to do while in Scotland was to wear a kilt and sporran. An odd ambition for an English man I admit but a way I figured I could truly emmerse myself into Scottish tradition. Once again iain was able to lend a hand. It took some adjustment,  my waistline being slightly smaller than iains but after some fiddling I was transformed from coastal trekker into deer stalker, braveheart (complete with antique sword) and later that day laird of the estate. Finding suitable locations around Lochaline we set off for a photo shoot finishing with a shot showing what a scot wears under his kilt.

29th December ( day 299 )

It was still very cold as I climbed out of my sleeping bag and went to see where exactly I was. Frost was covering the ground and ice lay thick on puddles and at the edges of the loch next to the birdhide. Directly across from the simple wooden hut I'd called home I could now clearly see the Castle I'd passed the night before, my muscles still aching and everything feeling stiff.

The sound of boiling water and the steam rising from my saucepan was most welcome. After serving myself up a packet of smooth oats and raspberries and packing my sleeping bag away into my back pack I headed off towards port Appin a small harbour. It didn't take long before I arrived and despite the freezing cold night the sun had decided to join me and I could feel sweat forming beneath my many layers of tshirts, jumpers and jackets. The water was particularly calm here and there was very little wind. I looked carefully out from the stony bay near to a jetty where tourists and visitors were queuing up to take a short ferry trip to the island of lismore to determine whether it would be possible to paddle along the coast to the island eriska. Unsure of the tides and state of the currents I sought local knowledge from the pier house cafe, a convenient stop off and perfect excuse for a pot of coffee.

Chatting with the employees about the trek and my intentions I decided to continue from the cafe towards a small bay closer to the island, following a small footpath that ran just behind. The day was turning out to be perfect and my plans fell into place. About quarter of a mile from the cafe I noticed an unusual cave like hole similar to the one I'd passed on my way to Lochaline,  the wishing stone. The hole here was much larger and I later discovered it was called aird's rock. A quick interlude and photo snap and I carried on to follow the bay round towards a gate and then into the wild. As I headed along a gravel track I passed an unusual round building which quite possibly was used by leprechauns during their summer holidays. Not far passed the stone building I came upon what I thought was possibly an ancient dry dock.

Conscious that my time was short and without actually knowing how much further I would have to trek over marshes and rocky shores I made haste following the coast away from Appin and towards loch linnhe.

Thankfully I hadn't been too far away and arrived in the bay opposite the island in no time at all. Finding a suitable place to launch from I studied the flow of the waters determining that tide was now on its way out. As with all crossings in hoolley my stomach knotted and the feeling of apprehension kick started the injection of adrenaline into my blood. Keeping an eye on the water I got hoolley ready and prepared myself for the crossing.

Pushing off I committed myself to a successful paddle, gliding across the calm waters and getting closer to the beaches of the island I began to feel the pull of the tide. I turned hoolley 45° up stream and began to ferry glide paddling against the current determined to land at the spot I'd picked out. Without taking my eyes off the island I put my back into it and increased my paddling. The crossing was not so leisurely anymore but considerably more challenging. Thankfully I'd anticipated the change and plotted my course accordingly making sure I had alternative get outs further along the shoreline of eriska should anything go wrong and should I have misjudged the strength of the tide. Safely nearing the shingle beach I began to relax once more and with a strong stroke I landed hoolley.

Once packed up and with the sun beginning to lower in the sky I headed along the beach and up onto a golf course absent of any golfers. After crossing the golf course I headed into the frost coverer bogs and marshes. It felt like I was now waking through a huge open air freezer. The temperature dropped quickly and the long grasses almost snapping beneath my feet. By studying a simple map of the island depicting the numerous holes on the golf course I'd come across near to the 7th green I determined the location of a short bridge that would take me back to the mainland.

Seeing the bridge ahead I rambled my way through the grass, among trees and over heather. With the bridge getting closer but cut off by a thick impenetrable wall of rhododendrons I wondered how I would be able to get myself up to the road and off the island. Thankfully I found an old rusty steel section of fencing that had been discarded laying up against the brickwork of the bridge.  Propping it up I gingerly placed my left foot onto the first rung of my makeshift ladder. Despite the decaying condition of the metal work it appeared to take my weight. Reaching a railing further up I slowly pulled myself and my pack up having to clamber over the top of the wall to get to the start of the bridge. Expecting to find a tarmac road crossing the bridge I was surprised to be confronted with heavy wooden sleepers.

The light was now fading quickly and woodland too thick to follow the coast I opted to follow the road to Benderloch. I was as normal completely out of water so when I saw the lights on in a nearby cottage and no sign of any fresh water burns I went over and knocked on the door. Apologising for the disturbance and asking if I could fill my bottles with water the lady that had answered asked if there was anything else that she could help me with. Having been welcomed by many I had met throughout the Highlands it was lovely to receive the same welcome in what I'd referred to as the lowlands.

Finding a clearing in the woodland a little further along I setup camp and settled in for the night.