27th February day 358

It had been lovely spending the two evenings with frances and her family, a hot bath and a comfy bed. It was going to be a long hike  and although frances mum had taken me to drop my kit off at the lighthouse before leaving me at a place called the scar which had been where I'd finished the day before I knew it was going to be a tough call whether I'd make it to Portpatrick that evening or not.

Without my bag to slow me down i set off north along the coast towards the lighthouse. Although I was now out of the highlands and very much in the lowlands the terrain was still to be a tough challenge. With the tide out i made my way along the shores hoping to make my way around the headland all the way. Looking across the loch i watched as the ferries came and went and gazed at the hills I'd hiked the days before. From where i was everything looked much higher than it had felt.

As the cliffs began to rise on my left i hoped I'd find a cave or two to explore. Sure enough as i was approaching ladys bay my way forward was blocked but the opening to a cave caught my attention. It  wasn't very large but as i entered i found myself in quite a reasonable sized space with tunnels leading off.  Out of all the caves I'd experienced during the trip so far this was to be one of the best. Although i didn't have time to explore the whole thing i spent a fair amount of my time wandering around. Most of the tunnels lead to other large caves and s couple ended up back on the coast. In the main cave light poured in through a hole in the ceiling I'll be honest it felt quite homely.

During the exploration of the cave i was able to determine that no matter what I would have no other choice but to head back the way i had come. In the back of my mind i already knew this and as I'd been walking and scrambling in front of the cliffs i was also making a mental note of possible alternative routes up the cliff faces. The last exit route wasn't too far back at all and in comparison to a few I'd considered was a fairly easy climb making use of what looked like a man made slope that zigzagged its way to the top.

Once I'd climbed up and over, the caves deep underground beneath me i headed down to the bay below. The landscape was changing once again. Becoming quite crinkly the lowlands were living up to there name. Nothing ahead of me looked particularly challenging. In fact it was reminding me very much of home. The ground underfoot was very uneven and plenty of divets made the going tough though. Rocks petruded from the soil and my first impressions proved a little optimistic.

It took me much longer than I'd expected to reach coreswell lighthouse but arriving around 1pm i popped in to say hello and to let the receptionist know i had arrived to pick up my bag before continuing. By the look on her face i think she had been expecting me a bit sooner but with a cheery smile she offered me a coffee and some shortbread biscuits before i left to attempt to get to Portpatrick.

Now fully loaded with my gear i left the lighthouse and headed towards the west coast. Being completely unsheltered from the winds blowing in off the sea i knew the afternoon would be a bit of a struggle. Huge, and I mean mahoosive waves rolled in crashing against the rocks along the shore sending spray a fair height.

Ahead the lowlands were not exactly low in fact they were pretty damned high. The sticky out ear, as one of frances children had described it had two very contrasting coastlines. On the east side it was relatively flat and easy going but the west side was looking more and more like the inhospitable bleak landscape of some of the highlands coast I'd previously hiked.

I'd walked about two miles, although it somehow felt further, when i spotted some old wartime bunkers in a field just up from the shores. These bunkers were massive and could easily be turned into semi subterranean hones. I explored three of them each with small side openings and a large main entrance facing away from the coast. I would imagine that they were probably home to tanks or possibly extremely heavy artillery. In more recent years though and judging by the floors these bunkers would have provided shelter for cattle.

Often i find that i can get somewhat distracted whilst trekking and on this day I'd been distracted twice. This meant that the likelihood of me reaching Portpatrick before nightfall was increasingly less likely.

Heading off away from the bunkers i continued to follow the coast around as far as i could but as the terrain became more rugged i was forced up into the hills. Coming across a fence, with an all too familiar sign "danger of death" with the picture if a man laying on the floor being stabbed by a large arrow zigzagging downwards which by all accounts is to signify the fence gas been electrified, i decided I'd hop over and carry on across the field. I have come across many "electrified" fences on my journey but had yet to come across one that was actually connected to a bettery or power source of any description. This one however was. As i lent towards the fence grabbing it with both hands i felt an enormous thump in my chest and immediately jumped back. Unless i wanted to sing soprano in the church choir there was no way i was going to straddle this particular fence. Instead i opted for the slightly less terminal route of staying cliff side taking my chances with the wind and the 40 metre fall into the rocks below.

After hiking a few more miles up and down and around gorges and slopes i began to feel a little tired. It was nearly 5:30 pm and i knew i only had an hour or so of light left and a fair few miles left to hike before reaching Portpatrick. With no trees around to tie the tarp to i began looking for somewhere to shelter for the night.

Coming across a dry stone wall which proved to be an excellent wind break and seeing no other signs of shelter of any kibd ahead i decided to call it a day. Stringing guy ropes over the wall which i pegged down i set up the tarp and crawled in. What made this particular camp even more perfect was the fresh water stream running just a few feet away. Being in such a desolate location with very little shelter I  was pleasantly surprised at how cozy my accommodation was and after climbing into my sleeping bag soon settled in.

26th February day 357

Katie, frances daughter had stayed with grandma and kindly given up her bed for me which was really nice. Having a good nights rest i woke around 7:30 and joined the family for breakfast whilst also helping luke, the youngest, to measure the kitchen. Making plans to meet frances for lunch at the lifeboat station i was taken back to the picnic area which very nearly became my home for the night.

After leaving the Cairnryan picnic area it wasn't long before i came across something of interest, a miniature  castle in a local burial ground. I had to go take a look. Being of a traditional castle shape i wondered if it was some kind of shrine. Looking inside though i could see nothing that would back my theory. In fact it was completely empty inside and seemed pointless.

Carrying on i began to follow the loch ryan coastal path down along the shoreline. After a while i came across an information board that said where i was stood was once a railway yard that had been built to aid the war efforts. Looking around i couldn't see any sign of this other than a few small brick buildings that were slightly raised and possibly sat alongside the tracks which had now been removed.

Carrying on i eventually left the footpath and began hiking along the stony shore towards something that again caught my imagination. This was very obviously something to do with the war. Large hollow concrete blocks as large abd of a similar shape to lorry trailers lay side by side. I wasn't sure what they had been used for but it was something i was going to try and find out once i got home.

After taking a moment to explore i carried on, Stranraer was now in sight and it now wouldn't be long before I would reach the lifeboat station to meet with frances for a quick lunch time break.

A cheese and pickle sandwich and packet of crisps later and i head off again.  The sun was now shining with blue skies and barely a breeze. I followed the stony shore from Stranraer till i reached Kirkcolm, the village frances children go to school and where we had arranged to meet that afternoon.

25th February day 356

Waking on the banks of the river my first concern was whether or not the river had overflowed during the night. The levels were high but not enough to burst. It was a gorgeous sunny morning so after packing up i continued to follow the river to the sea.

Reaching the coast again i had very little choice but to turn left and hike over a few fields before the landscape radically changed. Leaving the fields behind and traversing the steep slopes i continued to follow the coast. The further i went the steeper and rockier the slopes. Reaching a small gorge i stopped to take in the view ahead. It didn't look good. It looked pretty wild in fact. The land raised high above the sea plummeted down. I'd have no choice but to go over instead of in front.

Gradually i climbed higher and higher looking down at the coast from the top of the hills. As with anything that goes up eventually it must come down.  At some point during the hike I'd unwittingly joined the Ayrshire coastal path and i was now at a junction.  I could either turn inland and continue to follow the path or i could carry on following the coast. Of course i carried on.

Slowly the hill began descending towards the shore. The slope getting steeper with every step. It was getting to the point where the curve of the land ahead was disappearing out of sight which either meant it was getting extremely steep or I'd eventually end up looking over a cliff.

I carried on carefully placing each step and taking it slow. It was steep but thankfully no cliffs or it would have meant a steep climb back up or a dangerous traverse along to find the path. Reaching the bottom all i had to do was cross a river. Sweet the fun never ends.

Using boulders and shingle banks i hopped over the river, no big deal. On the other side i was  free to continue. Again i picked up the coastal path but that was short lived as i soon broke away to tackle the mother of all cliffs, or was it her sister. It didn't matter i only had one choice, to go up and over. After climbing a fair way up i stopped to maje a quick risk assessment, it was risky. Satisfied I'd ticked a box i continued. Every so often i stopped to reasses the risks. It appeared they were multiplying the higher up i went and following a sheep trail i seemed to be getting closer to the edge. Now being a rock climber I'm not prone to vertigo but i will admit as climbed higher my heart began thumping harder and several thoughts crossed my mind.  The first being "its a bloody long way down", the second being "i hope i don't slip" and the third "i hope this ledge doesn't decide it wants to be closer to the sea". Calculating the ledge had probably been happy to be where it was for longer than I'd been around i kept going till i eventually found myself on a relatively flat field.

It was no longer the gorgeous sunny day I'd woken to in fact it had begun to rain. It was also cold the the ground had become somewhat slippery. Looking ahead at the wild coastline which was only marginally less ridiculous than what I'd just crossed and the risk assessment chart in my head now reaching new levels of stupidity i decided to pull away from the route I'd plotted in favour of a nearby track a short way from, well, certain death.

I followed the track for a short way but when i decided it was going the wrong way i decided to leave it and head over the has been heathers across the hills. The weather was rapidly deteriorating as the clouds lowered and my visibility quickly dropped to less than a couple of hundred yards. Keeping where i thought the coast could possibly be to my right i headed on into the white out.

As the horizon slowly approached me or i it i began to feel a little disoriented. Unable to see any kind of land mark to orient myself on i tried to keep going in a straight line. Gradually as i descended from the hills my visibility improved and off in distance i could just make out a coastal road. Continuing to descend i realised i was near a woodland. Finding a large rhododendron tree i sought shelter from the rain, to take a breather ant attempt to work out my position on the satellite images i had stored on my phone.

I was quite pleased with my progress for the day and had actually arrived at the woods I'd planned to stop at. It was still only 3:30pm though and i figured there was still plenty of time to get a few more miles in before calling it quits. Grabbing my pack and putting my gloves on i headed out of the woods towards a beach not too far away. It was going to be an easy hike from here to Stranraer. All i would have to do is follow the coastal road.

Exiting the woods i came upon a large building. Doors were hanging off and windows had been shattered. It was a definite chance for urban exploration. Dropping my pack in a large loading bay i set about walking the corridors systematically investigating the rooms as i went. Finding dry pallets left behind it occurred to me that the building would be a great place to stop for the night. It was dry and relatively clean inside and with plenty of firewood a temporary occupant would be able to stay warm. Unfortunately though it was still too early to stop.

As i walked away from the complex i hoped I'd made the right decision and that i wouldn't regret leaving the comfort of the packing room. The hike ahead was indeed easy all i had to do was follow the road and avoid getting hit by passing traffic. It was still drizzling but nothing i hadto worry about. It didn't take long before i passed the stena port ryan. Ahead i could see a car park with picnic area and across the road a rather comfy looking woods. The temperature was dropping now as the evening drew in. Stopping at the picnic area for a break i discovered i hada signal on my phone in fact i had high speed Internet.

Taking advantage of this rare facility i uploaded my days photos and checked for messages. As i did a text message came in from an unknown number offering me a bed for the night. Frances was a member of the Stranraer RNLI and had been told about my challenge that morning. How she got my number god only knows. It was truly a random act of kindness and under the terms of the clause i was unable to refuse so i returned the text to thank her for the offer.

About half an hour later frances arrived to take me to her home and introduce me to her sons and husband. Its always lovely to meet new folk and feeling warmly welcomed.

24 th February day 355

I was woken by a horrendous thunder clap, a storm was on its way. Led on a blanket of leaves I'd had quite a good nights rest but this was a rude awakening. As i waited for the heavens to open i boiled some water and had my breakfast and morning coffee. Just as i was finishing up it happened, the wind strength increased followed by a short but heavy shower of hail.

Quite happy to let it pass i stayed under the tarp and waited. Thankfully i only had to wait for a short time before Venturing out to begin packing away. It was obvious as i folded the tarp up that the day was going to prove tough, the wind coming from the south and i also knew i could expect more hail or at the very least showers.

Heading of towards Ballantrae i passed an unusual monument, a giant copper cross with steam ship surrounded by boulders. It was quite impressive to say the least. The weather was noe beginning to deteriorate and i was struck by intermittent hail showers and strong gusts.

Looking along the coast i could see the tide was on its way in and coupled with the strong winds and intermittent hail downpours i decided against Attempting to negotiate the shoreline instead opting for the safer road route. I was told that ahead of me somewhere was a cave that had once been occupied by a cannibal, sonny beans (or something like that). It was a cave i simply had to investigate.

Having hiked about a mile or so along the road i eventually came across a junction which had once been part of the main road from Ballantrae to Girvan. Cows now occupied the road and the fields that adjoined them. The tarmac road which at one time would have carried traffic was now ankle deep in sodden cow shit. It was not a pleasant experience trudging through but thankfully it wasn't to last. I continued to follow the old road as it brought me alongside but above the crashing waves on the rocks below.

As the road gradually descended i began to think I'd possibly passed the legendary cave. I could now see a long beach ahead and in the distance what guessed was Ballantrae. The beach looked like it was easy to cross so i headed down from the road to rejoin the coast feeling somewhat disappointed and convinced I'd missed the cave which i guessed must have been set into the cliffs I'd hiked over. As i began my way down some boulders towards the beach i noticed something to my left. It was a brick wall up against the cliffs. A doorway was showing, could it be the entrance to the cave. I had to go back and at least investigate.

Sure enough the doorway was the entrance to the cave dwelling. As i went in it opened up into a large cavern with another bricked up cave at the back. I'd been told a little about sawney bean (or however you spell it ), apparently he had four wives, a hundred children and he used to eat travellers. The cave didn't seem big enough to house everyone though. I was now beginning to think the stories were merely that, just stories. It was also possible also the cave I'd found was occupied by a hermit I'd also been told about. I wasn't sure but still found the cave interesting.

After having a good look round i decided to keep walking, Ballantrae was only a mile or so away so i set off from the cave and headed towards it. Finding an inn that served roast beef, my favourite meal was a difficult task during the trek and finding one that served it midweek was even harder. The royal hotel in Ballantrae was like seeing a mirage. It was Tuesday and beef was still on the menu. And it was good.

After filling my belly i set off to cross the bridge and make my way along the banks. It was still quite early but gazing along the banks and into the horizon i couldn't see any suitable shelter for the night. Intermittent showers were giving me concern too. Finding a reasonable spot on the bank of the river I decided to take an early day and set up camp.

23rd February day 354

When i woke my legs were still aching from the hike the day before, a quick shower and a full breakfast and i was ready to brave the day. Outside i was pleasantly surprised that the weather wasn't at all bad. In fact it was nothing like the force 9 i was expecting. I  gathered my kit ready to spend a few days in the wild and set off to the Girvan station to have a coffee and to say thanks for their hospitality and goodbye.

Leaving Girvan a little later than I'd planned  i headed down to the beach. The wind although tame that morning was now picking up and progress was hard having to lean in to the head on gusts hoping gravity would assist my efforts.

Looking ahead I couldn't see any signs of shelter but hoped i would at some point see a small woodland or dry cave. My biggest concern at this time was the traffic, much more scary than any free climb or paddle. Getting hit by a lorry or even a car would mean certain disaster. I carried on regardless though following the road along the shore, strong headwinds proving difficult to battle against.

I was heading for Ballantrae, the next reasonably sized village along this part of the coast. Nearing a small village i noticed a mile stone indicating the village was about 7 miles away, a good three hour hike especially in these conditions. The time was now approaching 5pm which meant the earliest i could expect to arrive would be 8pm. Coming in from the south i could see a huge black rain cloud. As i entered the village i looked ahead to see if i could see any trees which i would need to help shelter me from the nights weather, especially if i was expecting force 9 gales or worse still a storm. It didn't look good, in fact it looked pretty baron. The wind was now beginning to pick up and being uncertain about what time the sun would set i began searching for somewhere to shelter a little closer.  I also needed water.

Crossing a bridge with a stream running beneath i noticed a small sheltered space with small trees. It was still early as i had wanted to at least get a couple more miles in but with the black cloud looming i decided to head down into the trees, fill up my water bottles and take a short break to asses my situation. The wind was still building and hearing droplets of rain hitting my waterproofs i decided that maybe it would be worth setting up camp next to the stream just in case i was unfortunate and didn't find anything else further up.

Stringing the tarp up just in time i sat out of the rain and decided I'd made the right choice. I was beginning to feel the cold though so immediately rehydrated a ration and enjoyed the meal while it began to rain heavily outside. Ok so it wasn't the southfield hotel or indeed a couch in a lifeboat station but at least i was out of the rain and sheltered from the wind.

22nd February day 353

It was a miserable wet morning with a chill in the air when I woke. In fact it had been quite a cold night even fully dressed in the sleeping bag.

After packing away my kit i followed the coastal path through the castle grounds back towards the coast. A set of steps lead me to the beach below. The weather although only drizzle that morning with a slight breeze was slowly worsening. The tide was nicely out as i began my hike to maidens and although i hadn't planned to be in Girvan till the following day it looked like I'd be passing through later in the afternoon.

I was nearly at the maidens harbour when I noticed a figure heading towards me from the road. Craig, a member of the rnli crew, had been Facebook friends for several years and although we'd never actually met it felt like I'd known him for longer. Knowing that i was approaching Girvan he'd decided to hunt me down for breakfast. I'll be honest i couldn't believe my eyes when i realised who the stranger was and it took me a few seconds to work it out.

We stopped at a nearby cafe for a coffee and my second breakfast of the day not that I'd refuse free food under any circumstance. It was fantastic to finally meet him after so long and it dawned on me that although i knew where i was i didn't think I'd be quite as far as i was. If that makes sense.

After breakfast Craig gave me some local intel about the coast i was to cover over the following days and warned me about the force 9/10 weather front coming in. Leaving Craig i headed over the harbour wall only to be confronted with the tide which had now come in and was kissing the rocks of the shore, small cliffs covered with gorse was to now cause me a few problems.

I tried to get as far along the coastline as i could but this proved impossible so i decided,  wel had no choice but to climb a small cliff and push my way through the gorse onto the golf course on top. Here i was completely exposed, the wind was now blowing a gale and the rain hitting my face felt like a hundred jabbing needles. It was going to be a grueling hike to Girvan to meet up with Craig once again.

After walking the length of the golf course i headed down to the shore but the sand was extremely soft and the hike got harder. The streams were in spate and progress slowed to a crawl. If i wanted to get to Girvan that day I'd need to pick up the pace somehow so i decided to leave the beach along a track to hike the road a mere hundred or so yards away.

It was a little easier on the tarmac and arriving in Girvan proceeded to the rnli station in the harbour. Several if the crew were there to greet me and as normal i was immediately offered a coffee and biscuits. I was also given a key to the boathouse and told i could stop the night on one of the benches which was preferable to sleeping in the cold and wet especially with high winds predicted and a serious lack of trees to camp amongst.

After a bit the crew disappeared and i was left at the station to shower and make myself at home. Just as i was settling in i got a call from craig who'd managed to get me a meal at flynns boatyard a local bar and restaurant as well as a comfy bed in a local hotel not too far away. Under the rules of random acts of kindness i accepted both wholeheartedly.

After being picked up and taken to the hotel i was taken to a local bar to meet some more of the crew, drink beer and play pool.

16th - 21st February

16th February day 347

Starting the day faced with rain was not what i really wanted or expected after the recent spouts of sunshine but it soon cleared up and i found myself thinking back over my time hiking the beautiful scenery of the highlands. Leaving Gourock was a poinient moment for me on the trek. No longer would i be faced with days of remote wilderness from here on in i could expect towns with bars, supermarkets and traffic. Was i feeling sad? I wasn't sure.

Slinging my pack on to my shoulders i left the lighthouse and began following the footpath looking over at the tranquility of the other side. When i say footpath i also mean a real footpath, one made of tarmac, i couldn't remember the last time I'd seen one.

Another thing I quickly noticed was the number of dog walkers i passed, something you don't tend to see much whilst trekking the west coast. To say the going was easy doesn't quite sum it up  i felt like i was somewhere completely different yet a mere couple of miles from the wild coast I'd conquered only a few days before and had spent several months tackling.

A few miles later and well passed Gourock i came upon the derelict site of what I'm guessing was an old power station. Nothing was standing now except the main gates and these weren't exactly secure. Passing through a section of the security fencing that had been dislodged and rolled back i entered the site and proceeded to hike down towards the coast. Being away from the busy road peace filled the air and i was once again alone although there was an eerie feeling about the place.

Not being a particularly large place i soon found myself at the far perimeter fence, there was nowhere else i could go, i felt thwarted. I could now either turn back or attempt to climb over. Niether really appealed to me so i began looking for an alternative. There were no holes like the one I'd walked through but as the tide appeared to be low i wondered if I'd be able to go round the end and over the rocks.

As i made my way to the end of the fence i could see it was indeed possible to get down and around so i went for it. The rock was slippery but on the whole it wasn't as bad as I'd first thought. Once i was on the other side i continued to make my way carefully clambering, climbing up and down passed the back gardens of private homes towards the town of Wemyss.

The skies were gorgeous blue and the sun was still shining down upon me gradually setting over the isle of bute. As night began to fall i hiked my way through largs seeking a place to shelter.

Finding it difficult to locate a place to set up shelter for the night i opted to play it safe and asking a local found a cheap bed n breakfast to stay in. I could see from the satellite images on my phone this would now be my biggest challenge.

17th February day 348

Having had a good nights rest i was faced with a difficult decision, should i carry on or should i stop another night to gather my thoughts and plan the way ahead or should i head off and continue the journey and take the challenge by its horns.

Deciding to take a day off to adjust to the new environment i had now found myself in i went to a nearby superstore to get comfort food and stayed in my room to catch up on  my blogs. I'd left it far to long and although i haf notes recalling the events that had taken place was difficult.

18th February day 349

After having a good breakfast i gathered my kit together and headed straight for the coast. It was overcast and the wind, head on, was quite strong. I hiked away from largs towards pencil beach where i came across an unusual pencil shaped monument. I guess thats why it was called pencil beach.

Following the footpath from the giant pencil i followed the railway towards the marina where anchors dating back over the centuries had been laid beside the path. With not much else to look at these gigantic anchors made for a good distraction. Beyond the anchors i was forced to rejoin the road. After spending such a long time away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life it felt like an industrial revolution had hit  Scotland.

Looking for every opportunity to escape the noise of cars and lorries i took out my phone to examine the satellite images I'd cached. Ahead of me was hunterston power station and beyond that wide open space for a few miles before hitting the next town. Regardless of whether or not there was a public footpath this was the opportunity i was seeking.

I peeled off from the main road and headed  down a quiet road towards the power station. As i passed by the nuclear sites i wondered if i would have the same problem as i did with Dounreay. Thankfully i was able to hike unhindered following the shore and reached the other side. Cliffs now begun to tower to my left but the way ahead looked easy. On the horizon i could see what appeared to be the silhouette of a castle.

The castle I'd seen was Portencross castle and was significant to robert the bruce. Apparently it was open to the public but not until april, a shame as I'd quite liked the opportunity to go and look around. The wind was now starting to get under my skin, granted it wasn't as strong as I'd experienced on the mull of kintyre but it was continuous and relentless.

I  carried on none the less determined to make it to Ardrossan by the evening although i had little hope that I'd actually find any trees when i arrived to camp amongst. For that matter I'd also not seen any fresh water streams or rivers since crossing over the clyde. Without water my freeze dried rations were pretty much useless. If i didn't find any water by the time i got to the town i would have to resort to the same techniques I'd employed during the first part of the trek by stopping at bars or public toilets to fill up.

Approaching Ardrossan with the tide out and night falling i headed across the firm sand of harbour bed towards the coastguard tower and towards another concrete jungle. There were no trees to be seen. Climbing up the rocky sea defences i continued following the coast lit by street lamps looking for somewhere to hold up for the night. A bin shed, derelict building anything that would provide some kind of shelter but i found nothing.

It was now getting late and checking the satellite images i could see no signs of woodland ahead, well not for a long time anyway. I had money in my pocket though so decided i would have to find a b and b again. It would be safer than spending a night in a shop doorway. I  was a little gutted and reluctantly i began searching for a bedfor the night.

Calling in it at the first hotel i came across i asked if they had any spare rooms for one night. They didn't but the receptionist quickly called a guest house nearby and before too long i was being picked up and dropped off at probably oneof the most unique bed n breakfasts I've ever stayed in. On the outside you could be forgiven for thinking it was just a residential home but on entering you were cast back to the days of shivelry, king arthurs castle.

In the hallway stood a suit of armour and hung from the walls were shields, swords and other medieval weapons. It was quite simply amazing. It was a knight to remember.

19th February day 350

Leaving the unusual bed and breakfast i gethered my kit together and headed off back to the coast which wasn't as simple as I'd thought. After getting slightly disoriented or for want of a better word, lost, i eventually found the shore. The sun was out and the wind although still strong was at my back. The sea was rough with huge waves rolling in and crashing against the promenade sending a sea shower ten feet into the air and on occasion spraying me as i attempted to dodge getting wet.

About a mile from the town i ended up on a long sandy beach with dunes to my left. I was now heading towards saltcoats, or was i hiking passed it. I wasn't sure but i did know my target destination for the day was a place called troon.

Reaching the end of the beach meant i had arrived at the point and with no other option than to turn left i continued on towards a high concrete sea defence. To steep to walk in front of and with security fencing running along the edge at the top i followed a well trodden path between bushes strewn with plastic bags and rubbish up a bank and through a hole somebody had kindly cut into the wire mesh of the fence.

I was now walking through a maze of oddly shaped dunes. Tracks leading this way and that. It felt like a military installation although a long time abandoned. Off away from the coast and too far to investigate i could see the tops of concrete structures and buildings which i assumed were derelict. Once again my imagination began to run riot but i managed to stay focused and was well aware of the distance i still had to cover before nightfall.

The weather had been amazing all day with the sun shining down and that didn't look like it was going to change any time soon. After wandering between the dunes for a while and enjoying the shelter from the wind i finally reached what remained of the rusted perimeter fence. Which was quite lucky because i didn't fancy having to climb over it.

As i headed towards the mouth of the river that flowed from Irvine to the sea i noticed an unusual grass covered dome it looked like a giant bunker or teletubbies house. I couldn't make my mind up which but eager to get to troon i didn't stop to find out. Reachingthe bank of the river i looked down at the water. It was far to rough to paddle across  with enormous waves rolling in from the sea causing an incredible amount of chop. Too dangerous to risk. Looking along the bank i could see a bridge, which was good because to walk around the river would mean doubling back and adding at least four miles to the days journey. As i walked closer to the bridge though i could see I'd have a problem crossing over. The mid section appeared to have been cut away. Stood at the beginning of the bridge i could see it was in fact still in tact but to provide access to the Irvine harbour the bridge was retracted creating an enormous gap, too far to jump. It was a job for hoolley.

I looked around and spotted a possible place to launch from so without hanging around i followed the footpath from the bridge passed the teletubbies house,  which of course i had a closer look at, down to the waters edge. Within minutes hoolley was ready and i pushed off. My intention was to paddle from one side to the other and follow the salt marshes round to come up on a slipway i could just make out further into the harbour. This simple plan as it turns out wasn't as simple as I'd first thought.

Escaping the calm waters near the bank i suddenly began to think my plan wasn't such a good idea afterall. Strong undercurrents and choppy waves provided me with quite a fight. Making it all the way to the slipway in one attempt was obviously not going to work. I stayed on course and used the current and flow of the incoming tide to carry me across to the salt marsh opposite. It quickly shallowed and with very little depth below me i decided to get out of hoolley and drag her to land. Once on the solid marsh i continued dragging hoolley fully loaded across the flattened grass to the next river which was only a few hundred yards away. Once opposite the slipway i relaunched hoolley and beganto paddle towards the slip way. It was a less exciting crossing this time and it didn't take long to reach the concrete slope. The problem here though was that the top of the slipway was fenced in with high security fences, too high to climb over. I needed another plan. Looking around i noticed, not far away, a set of old stone steps leading up to the promenade. This was to be my get out. Everything worked out fine in the end but it was truly a mini adventure. Feeling quite happy about the trip and finding myself opposite the ship inn, Irvines oldest pub, i decided to stop for a bite to eat and an orange juice and lemonade.

Once again there were no trees, which meant nowhere to tie the tarp up. After enquiring about possible places to rest the night i decided to opt for a cheap b n b nearby, I'd been given the meal for free after explaining the challenge so decided I'd take another night of luxury. Although it was nice taking to a bed deep down i was hoping I'd return to the wild once more to sleep  with nature.

20th February day 351

It looked like the good weather was going to continue. I hadn't made it to troon the day before as I'd hoped, maybe I'd been daudeling it should have been possible. It didn't really matter i knew I'd get there today.

The beach from Irvine is flat, firm and stretches for miles. The sea was much calmer than the day before and i anticipated an easy hike.

It  didn't take me long at all to reach troon. Hiking along the road towards the town i was slightly taken aback when an excited voice called out and a rather bubbly linda crossed the road. Linda had been following my progress on twitter, which I'd only really just fathomed out. A warm welcome on a chilly day. I was in fact looking for a cafe to grab a coffee and possibly a bite to eat, Linda very kindly pointed me in the direction of the morrisons store just up the road. After posing for a quick photo i said goodbye and  carried on.

After enjoying a burger topped with pulled pork and cheese accompanied by a mocha i set off towards the harbour. The troon lifeboat station is situated on the tip of a small peninsula near to the marina and harbour. I couldn't exactly pass by without first popping my head in to say hello and as with all the stations I'd visited on my epic journey they welcomed me as one of there own offering me a coconut mallow and mug of coffee. I'm never surprised or disappointed by the characters that risk there lives saving morons like myself, always chirpy and extremely friendly.  Its almost like they're cloned.

After my short rest exchanging banter and stories i set off for the beach to Prestwick. The weather was still holding out, well that is until i reached the golf course, yes i was back in golfing country now. A short but cold hail shower  hit me as i began the hike so spotting a small shelter i ducked in to put my wet weather gear on. I didn't fancy catching a cold at this stage. Typically no sooner had i got my kit on the shower passed over. I wasn't going to take it off though so carried on. I could see the lights of Prestwick airport ahead now and knew it wouldn't be long before i was entering another concrete jungle.

I still wasn't used to hiking through so many towns, it was an odd feeling.

21st February day 352

In the end i decided to accept defeat once again. Not finding a suitable place to shelter I'd checked into a cheap hotel. In the back of my mind i hoped i wasn't softening up. after a good nights rest i woke to another glorious sunny morning. I left the hotel and hiked along the high street to cross the bridge over the river that breaks the town/city in two, taking the first opportunity to head back to the coast i soon found myself hiking along a sandy beach the sun warming my face and the sea breeze chilling my hands.

I was looking forward to a nice walk, it wasn't too cold and with blue skies  above it looked like it would be a dry day. Away from the town and standing proud on a headland was the remains of a castle. How it defied gravity I'll never know. It certainly didn't look stable and as i passed beneath it i wondered how many more years it would remain before finally being claimed by the sea. The tide was coming in and knowing that the next section of the coast was only accessible at low tide i also wondered how far I'd be able to get before I'd have no choice but to head up on to the cliffs.

Around the headland and onto the beach beyond i began to hike keeping a keen eye on what lay ahead. The beach was a combination of sand, stones and shingles. Seaweed marked the high tide line which gave me an indication of how much further it had to come in.

Towards me was walking a tall thin man sporting a woolly hat and a beard of biblical proportions. This was Micheal. Michael was out walking his dogs. Several years before he'd left home and escaped to spain where he'd managed a nightclub earning vast amounts of money promoting debauchery and profiting from the temptations of man. That's what he told me. He'd also been talkingto god and god had told him to visit the beach on this day for a gift would be there for him. Apparently i was that gift.

Meeting on the beach we chatted briefly and I told Michael about my journey, a journey he too had wanted to attempt. Asking if i would mind some company Michael joined me for a hike along the coast eager to tell me about the history of the area, about the covenant and about the atrocities that had taken place in the dark ages of Scotland.

As we continued to walk along the shore Micheal turned to me and said "i was told to bring a book with me, its for you". Reaching into his man bag which was hanging off his shoulder he produced a small book, It looked old, he handed it over and told me to put it in my pocket. I later pulled it out of my pocket to read the title on the spine "the imitation of christ"

Together we hiked into the next bay, Michael was keen to show me some caves that had been used by the covenant as a hiding place from the tyranny of their oppressors. The tide was now almost completely in and we decided the next set of cliffs were impassable so opted to climb the steep slope and head over the top to get down to the bay beyond. Michael was convinced the caves were further on.

Negotiating the fields, hopping over the low fences and jumping a couple of streams we looked for a way to return back to the coast. A break in one of the fences appeared to be our exit strategy. On the other side was steep slope but nothing that couldn't be tackled. We headed down and made our way to the bottom and continued our search for the caves. The cliff faces gradually got lower until we reached a point where Micheal announced "i think we've passed them". It was disappointing he now believed the caves had been below us when we'd had no choice but to make our way over the cliffs. Sitting down for a break we continued talking about the covenant and his belief in jesus and god, his visions and faith.

"We'll meet again brother" he said, at that and without another word said he stood up turned and began walking back the way we'd come his arms outsretched. "Safe journey " i called out, he dipped his head but didn't look back and then he was gone.

Reaching dunure i decided to stop for a hot chocolate and bowl of soup. While sat relaxing the weather turned decidedly awful. The temperature dropped rapidly, the sea turned rough and the heavens opened up.

Not wanting to stop any longer i put my wet weather gear on and set off towards dunure castle which apparently was famous for the roasting of the Abbot. Something I'd have to look into once I'd got home. The tide was now beginning to recede which was good news for me. Passed the castle i headed back to the coastline and continued where i could to walk the shoreline. At points i had to stop and wait for the waters to recede further before continuing but all in all the hike was free from incident. Eventually i reached a long beach and could see culzean castle ahead. The light was fading fast and it was soon to be time for me to camp up for the night. Thankfully there were also trees which meant I'd be able to set up the tarp and settle in comfortably.

15th February day 346

Left the point full of hope that the day would stay calm as i was hoping to cross the clyde from Dunoon to Gourock around lunch.

A pleasant hike looking back at the lighthouse I'd passed the evening before but hadn't noticed with the lack of light. Spring was most definitely on its way, daffodils were not only poking up through the grass at the side of the road but they were budding too and one had begun to flower.

It was a lovely morning as i continued along the road towards town. As i walked i looked across at the far shores. It was so close and getting closer with every step.

Finding a short crossing to the clock lighthouse in Gourock i decided to brave the choppy waters and make the two mile crossing. The winds were low and the waves manageable.

Arriving on the shores of Gourock the landscape instantly transformed. The mountains were now in the background a visual distant memory. These were the lowlands. From here i could expect changes.

14th February day 345

With patches of blue appearing between light fluffy clouds and a slight breeze un the air i decided that morning i would paddle from Tighnabruaich marina passed buttock point in the Isle of bute and either land just down from the bute ferry or attempt to paddle round the point and skip the next loch. It was seemingly a good plan with very little that could possibly go wrong.

Leaving the shore of Tighnabruaich hoolley and i began the paddle towards buttock point. Why it was called that i have absolutely no idea. About half way across the waters began to chop a little and the wind picked up slightly. It was of no concern though and we both made it safely to the point. The island acting as a wind break sheltered us and the waters calmed. Clouds began to fill the blue gaps and slightly darkened the skies.

As i continued to paddle round the island i could see the ferry crossing it was huge and I'd have to be careful crossing its path in case they didn't spot me in my tiny little inflatable.

Slowly and cautiously i paddled towards the enormous metal, pack raft munching, monster. As i got closer the captain spotted me, they were docked up waiting for the cars to finish loading. He came out on deck, binoculars pointed towards me, waved and pointed at the stern, or was it the bow. Both ends looked identical. It didn't matter i paddled towards the arse end and under its enormous retractable ramp. Its amazing how insignificant you feel paddling a packraft that close to a car ferry.

Wind channelled up through between the mainland and bute making paddling a little difficult and finding myself in need of watering the garden i sought a reasonably private place to pull up at. Having satisfied gods will i decided instead of paddling around the peninsula and across the next loch i would in fact hike the peninsula, the road followed the shore quite closely. Reaching the other side i unpacked hoolley again and set off.

It was a little choppy to begin with but it was most definitely more sheltered. Getting about half way across everything quietened down. The waters calmed and clouds dispersed. Although from the far side i thought the crossing would be a little rough but found it actually to have been quite pleasant.

I was about 11 miles from  dunoon,  according to a milestone i passed. The road again followed the coast the majority of the way. Where the road leaves the coast you can walk across what I'd been told was an old us military base. There wasn't much to really see. Yes there appeared to have once been a port of sone description, a few small brick buildings also remain as well as a grass covered road system. Was it actually military, yes it was possible.

It was quite a large site, away from the noise of traffic on the road, now on my own it fell eerily quiet. By the time I'd found my way to the other side the sun had set and darkness had fallen. I was determined to make it to the lighthouse at the point before stopping for the day so lighting my way by head torch i kept walking. Taking full advantage of the tarmac beneath my feet. As i hiked i looked  at the street lights on bute and street lights across the clyde. I was really making progress.

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.

11th February day 342

The tide was low and had turned as i left otter ferry. I'd asked a couple of locals what i could expect from the way ahead of me to which the reply, all too familiar, was "it couldn't be done", i wasn't convinced. With my pack on my shoulders i set off once again heading south along a shoreside track passing through a small community of wooden buildings and in front of a rather large mansion.

The track soon became a little over grown as i followed my instincts into a woodland where i came upon a semi buried boat house. At first impressions i thought it was a concrete bunker but while taking a look round i found an old rusty boat winch and a large semi circle entrance with a ramp to the waters.

With the tide low and away from the banks of loch fynne i was able to make good progress keeping the loch to my right and closely packed woodland to my left. Compared to recent rock scramblings the journey was easy. It wasn't long before i came upon a long sandy beach, a beach that I'd been told early that morning had a deep river that would force me inland to cross a bridge a mile away.

As i made my way across the beach along the waters edge i saw the river ahead. Sure enough it was too wide to jump but a little way back from the shore it trickled a mere two inches deep. It couldn't be done, yeah right! With a huge grin adorning my face i paddled across and chambered up the bank on the far side. Challenge complete, well almost. I still had a fair hike ahead of me over some pretty wild terrain, a landscape never before tainted by the foot of man.

The next stretch of coast was reasonably easy to traverse with little much more than a few scrambles over rocks and hiking through shallow marsh land.

Beyond the marshes and crags i found a small secluded bay with a newish boat house at the far end almost opposite a fish farm anchored in the loch. There wasn't any tracks or roads leading to it so i summized that the boat house was primarily used by the employees of the farm, probably for storage.

Beyond the boathouse i was confronted by a large hill looming over me obscuring the horizon from view. Attempting to pinpoint my position along the coast i looked across the loch to try to locate a landmark i would have passed whilst trekking the kintyre peninsula. Unfortunately the view was mostly shrouded in mist, which it had been all day, and i found it difficult to see the far shores let alone identify any landmarks.

Reaching the boathouse i decided to stop for a short break and to munch on a Jamaican ginger cake jo had sent me. A thousand calories of stodge which the body digested and the soul revelled in. Feeling refreshed i climbed a low fence behind the boathouse and entered into a wilderness not unlike many i had already negotiated and successfully navigated before. With a rocky shore falling below to the sea on my right and rocky crags and cliffs climbing high to my left i wound my way between the birch trees and squidged my way through the bogs hoping not to end up cut off by an in penetrative crag or dense woodland. I was nearing the end and the woods thinned out but my way was blocked by thickly growing gorse. I had but one option, to traverse the rocky face of the shore line way above the water below. It was a risky move with very few places to grab or place my feet.

Slowly i lowered myself into position using all my skills and knowledge of climbing and  this type of terrain to safely and surely negotiate my self away from the  timeless wilderness.

Stood on top of a small mound beyond the woods i could see another ominous hill a few miles ahead. It too reached down to the water with trees covering the west side, it was getting late now and i wasn't sure if I'd be able to round before dark. I set off towards it and was immediately startled by a foxes copulating between two rocks near the shore. They were back to back, facing opposite directions, a sexual position I'd never tried before. In fact I'm not even sure if it's possible.  There was a frantic struggle and some whimpering as they struggled free from the knot and darted over the rocks before me to the safety of the bushes and long grass. I'll be honest i really wasn't expecting that and thus didn't even think about pulling out my camera to get a photo although i guess i wouldn't want someone taking photos of me whilst copulating.

Quite astounded i carried on, a little bemused too. Reaching a sandy beach just a little way beyond i found myself not only looking for shelter for the night but also looking for a  way to cross quite a deep river which was getting deeper all the time due to the tide coming in. Contemplating my options which were to either paddle across in the pack raft, wade across not knowing how deep it would get or backtracking the river to locate a bridge of some description i decided i needed to make a decision. Wading across was really out of the question and although hoolley was viable i ended up looking for an alternative places  to cross.

Following the river back it didn't take long before i came across a kind of rope bridge. It was made of rope but it followed a similar design to that of the one I'd crossed on knoydart. This rope bridge was considerably more robust and made from tensioned cables although the sign "use at own risk" was a little disconcerting. Carefully i stepped on and slowly made my way across. It was satisfyingly stable and considerably more so than the knoydart rope bridge. Safely in the other bank i decided I'd had enough adventure for one day and called it a day.

9th - 10th February

9th February day 340

It was a misty start to the day and that had nothing to do with my previous days hangover.

I left Tarbert from the harbour towards the point using a well trodden footpath up through the local woodland. The path ended at a stony bay. I then followed an animal trail  over rocks and traversing rockfaces to Stonefield castle. The route had been tough and challenging but being successful and completing a section of the coast noone in their right mind would attempt is completely satisfying.

Arriving on the shore in front of the castle i was faced with what sone would say was a pointless task, barrmore island.  Barrmore island which isn't an island as its joined by a narrow stony track sticks out from the mainland and although from afar looked impregnable with steep sloped and a tightly packed woodland in fact boasts a quite reasonable footpath which takes you all the way round only to end up quite literally feet away from where you started. I'm glad i did it to be honest it was actually a lovely little hike.

Leaving the island i passed a tree to my left I'd seen from the tough coastal scramble I'd made from Tarbert. Normally i wouldn't mention individual trees but this one was special. It had been decorated with dozens of small bouys, some orange others pink and the rest faded and of indeterminate colour. It was quite a unique display and I'm sure some would argue it had a certain artistic merit.

From the island i headed up into the rhododendrons towards the castle, now a high class hotel and found an old track to follow. The track eventually brought me out at the main road which joined tarbert with Ardrishaig.

I have completely gone off roads since hiking Britain, fast cars, lorries and the noise. After all I'd been through to get this far i felt hiking the road was probably the most dangerous part of the whole trip. It didn't matter which road they were all as bad As each other.

Time was now getting on and darkness soon joined me. Using my head torch to light the way i carried on determined to make it to  Ardrishaig and the entrance to the crinan canal that night.

10th February day 341

Leaving the  crinan canal i hiked to Lochgilphead where i called in at the argyll advertiser and met a reporter who i hoped would print a good article about the trek. Most of the other articles had been somewhat innacurate but then again why let facts get in the way of a particularly good story.

After my brief interview i left the argyll advertiser offices and made my way through the town. As i left Lochgilphead i passed the old clock tower, now derelict,  a rather unusual piece of architecture and considering its purpose as the towns clock being located a fairway outside the town really caught my attention. Unable to explore the interior i only spent a short time looking around the building before carrying on my days hike.

A few miles from the Clock Tower i found myself at loch fynne. The weather had remained favourable all day so i decided to seize the chance to paddle across to otter ferry, the site of the old ferry, thus saving me at least three days hiking. As i unpacked hoolley i kept an eye on the water determining the tidal flow, weather conditions and seeking  possible places to egress on the far side.

Directly opposite me was a small island and at low tide which this wasn't a large spit is visible which stretches about half way across just down from otter ferry. With hoolley ready to go i began the paddle across passing the southern end of the island on my left. The tide was still coming in but the water was dead calm. Birds were flocking for their feast, it would soon be dusk.

On the far side of the island i could now see a large red bouy. Using it as a marker i continued to paddle across the loch. At a guess i would say the distance was somewhere between a mile and a half and two miles total.

I was just passing the bouy to my left when i heard an unusual sound, a spraying sound, a blowing sound, a sound i thought i knew. I  stopped paddling and turned my head listening intently. A minute or so passed then i heard it again, out of the corner of my eye i saw something too. A ripple in the water, only slight.  I turned hoolley around and began paddling back towards the bouy. Getting closer i saw a fin. A dorsal fin, the fin of a dolphin. Were there more or was i seeing things. A minute or so later again a spray of water followed by an arched back with a fin. The fin had a slight nick taken out of it. I  sat and watched. It was totally magical and a once in a lifetime experience. regular as clockwork the fin would appear as the lone dolphin circled the bouy obviously feeding on unsuspecting fish, the dolphins supper.

It was hard to pull myself away from the spectacle but with the sun threatening to set i had no choice but to carry on and leave this domain. As i paddled away from the bouy i couldn't help but look back every now and then trying to savour the moment for as long as i possibly could.

It wasn't long before the bouy was nothing but a spec floating on the loch and the shore got closer. I was now joined by two seals. Landing on the shores was as always a great feeling, hoolley once again doing a fine job. The following day would mean a good hike into unknown territory, much like any day, but for now i was going to rest up and re energise.

22nd - 25th January

22nd January day 323

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

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

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

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

23rd January day 324

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

24th January day 325

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

25th January day 326

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

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

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

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

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

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

6th - 8th February

6th February day 337

It was a glorious sunny morning and the water was calm. I'd carried hoolley for some time now and today i felt like a paddle. Finding a good spot between some rocks to launch i got my pack raft out and got her ready for a leisurely ride to Tarbert.

Pack rafting  the coast provides a unique viewpoint of Britain's coastline and a view that very few people are privileged to see. Keeping close to land just incase something went wrong i gradually made my way with arran behind me.

Occasionally i saw oyster catchers sitting on rocks or flying low level above the shimmering water. As I glided along i could see deer grazing and as the rocks steepened the woodland elevated towards the heavens.
It would have been an interesting hike had i decided to go by land and certainly more strenuous. Further along the coast i came upon seal resting on a small island a short distance from the shore. As i approached their curiosity got the better of them and they slid down from there perches into the water to take a closer look.

Gradually the terrain became more formidable but with a few long strokes i soon passed it by. I was now beginning to wonder how much further i would have to paddle before i reached tarbert. Looking out to sea and across to the peninsula I'd have ti hike down a few days later i noticed a couple of fishing boats flying up towards Tarbert harbour, as they turned in and disappeared behind a headland a mile or so away from me i summized i was getting close. The tide had now turned and the water was becoming quite choppy. Fighting against the current of the outgoing tide i battled on and eventually made it round the headland.  Sure enough there was the harbour and although I'd hoped to carry on past it that day the elements were now against me so instead of crossing the mouth to the harbour i headed in towards it and pulled up onto the first beach i found.

7th February day 338

I'd had quite a hard few days and couldn't remember the last time I'd had a day off so i decided to take it easy and rest up. Moira managed the Victoria pub and hotel in the harbour. After being invited for a drink i ended up staying after hours and played drinking games with her and one of the bar maids. Finishing at 4am i was offered room 2 in the hotel to sleep. I don't really remember climbing the stairs but i know i didn't pass out in the bar after sinking a bottle of apple sourz with the girls.

8th February day 339

The following morning i woken by moiras mum stroking my brow, i felt rough. Moira had prepared breakfast which was particularly welcome. I'd met a norwegian called jan in campbeltown and he'd offered me the use of his boat which was moored in tarbert harbour. After breakfast i headed down to find the boat and decided to once again crash out and sleep off my hangover.

1st - 5th February

1st February day 332

it was a perfect sunny day the birds were singing and the sun was out. Leaving campbeltown i followed the harbour round looking out at davaar island. Compared to the rocky shoreline I'd been following this was easy and took very little concentration.

I followed the road to its end where i picked up a footpath which took me on to a very well preserved gunnery emplacement consisting of four battery placements. Exploring the site i noticed man holes that had been concreted up indicating some kind of entrance or ventilation shafts in the mound behind the gunnery emplacement. I couldn't help but wonder if there was maybe a hidden bunker beneath possibly a munitions dump or store.

Once I'd scoured around looking for a way in but come up with nothing i headed down to the beach to make my way on to peninver.

2nd February  day 333

It was another lovely morning and I'd almost forgotten what it had been like during the cold winter days that had just passed. Leaving peninver i hiked along the beach until i reached a river. Unable to cross i followed the river back up until i found a bridge. Now across i was able to head back to the coast and followed the shore clambering over rocks and boulders, crossing bays in search of adventure and exploration.

Seeing a small cave up in the cliffs and feeling like a little time out i decided to take the opportunity for some cave exploration. You never can tell what a cave is going to be like until you enter it and have a good look. Stood at the mouth of the cave and seeing that it went a fair way back i put my head torch on and went in.

As caves go this one was nice and dry inside, a large opening in the ceiling allowed light to penetrate the darkest reaches and i could imagine thatat some point it had possibly been occupied.  I wasn't sure but feeling that i had a bit of time to spare i decided to roit around to see if i could see any signs. My search wasn't at all fruitless in fact it turned up some interesting relics. An old what appeared to be world war two mit, some remains of some old crockery, a belt and what looked like an old smokers pipe made from porcelain. I'd made quite the discovery, probably not earth shattering but fascinating none the less.

Having spent a good half an hour in the cave i decided it was probably time to once again make haste. I carried on along the stony beach passing at the base of a castle, which castle i had no idea and because of where it was i decided not to investigate. I carried on around the beach to a head land and then scrambled over more rocks. The journey was proving to be quite demanding.

I kept going and began to feel that once again i was treading  where no one had been,  well certainly not in a long time. The route wasn't particularly difficult especially with the tide out revealing easy to traverse rocky shores.

To my right i had beautiful views of arran with its snow dusted mountains. Along the way stopping in various caves. It wasn't long ago i was complaining about the lack of exploration and now i found myself ducking into  caves every few hundred yards with very little time to properly indulge myself.

The sun was beginning to set when i eventually found myself walking across what can only be described as the perfect beach looking across at Carradale. The only thing that stood between me and my destination was a wide yet shallow river. A long sweeping sandy beach beckoning me. Not wanting to put my bare feet into the cold water i decided to look for a footbridge or some stepping stones. Feeling sure I'd find another way across i went off to search.

It didn't take long before i came upon a sign post pointing the way to some old stepping stones and what i thought would be a quick and dry way across.  How wrong i was. Hopping from one large stone to the next i managed to get halfway across before the rocks became too slippery to grip to. Loosing my footing i fell immediately jumping back onto the last dry stone to reevaluate the crossing. It was now surprisingly obvious I'd have to remove my boots and socks and wade over to the other river bank.

The water, knee deep and freezing cold was flowing quickly. The river bed was uneven and the submerged stones were slippery. It was tough going. Reaching the other side i could no longer feel my toes. I quickly put my socks and boots on and began heading back to the sandy beach. With every footstep i felt the feeling return to my feet. It was painful but I kept going.

The gorgeous sunset was soon replaced with darkness. Reaching the far end of the beach i had to use my head torch to light the way and without knowing exactly where i was i fumbled around looking for signs that would guide me to the village where tom adams had arranged a bed for me at his parents hotel, the Carradale hotel.

3rd February  day 334

Waking up at around 8am i was reluctant to leave the soft matress and comfy duvet. Needless to say i did and headed down to the restaurant for breakfast. It soon became time for me to carry on with the trek.

Left the hotel and headed off to pick up the coast again. As i walked along the street it became apparent that I'd gone the wrong way. I wasn't far from the harbour though so I left my pack behind the public convenience and set off to find the beach I'd left the night before. It wasn't far and without the weight of my pack i made good progress.

It didn't take me long to get round the point and back to the harbour looking for the ruins of the castle as i went. Once I'd reached the golf course i knew I'd missed it.

From the harbour i collected my pack and set off following a fairly reasonable footpath following the shore. It was a gorgeous hike that took me through woods and over rocks. Eventually the footpath ended and i was back to scaling small rocky outcrops and crossing secluded beaches and bays. Along the way i saw a couple of otters but failed once again to get a photo, they were simply too nimble and quick.

After several more miles i arrived at grogport and decided to call it a day.

4th February day 335

It was a stunning morning. I'd been expecting more snow and wintery conditions but with the sun shining and a light breeze it was very different to what I had prepared myself for. Was the good weather here to stay.

Leaving grogport i continued heading north, the shoreline ahead was very rocky but generally easy going. My friends the seals were basking in the sun and as i approached all headed for the water. Again the coast here was particularly rocky and as a result whilst lowering myself of one of the rocks i managed to rip the seat of my trousers as well as popping one of the eyelets on my new boots. There's no denying it, the trek wasn't only tough on me but also on my kit.

It was getting late when i arrived at Port a' mhara (port of the dead). This was where i decided to call it a day but i felt quite satisfied I'd covered a fair bit more of Britain's coast quite successfully.

5th February day 336

Once again it was a quite and calm day as i got dressed. It had been raining during the night and although the sky was overcast i didn't feel like I would need to worry about getting wet. Was spring really here now. Had i seen the last of the Scottish winter.

I left the  port of the dead to continue scrambling over rocks, pretty much the same routine as normal. As i continued i began feeling particularly hot and wondered if i had a few too many layers on. Surely it was still too early in the year to be dressing down for summer, still i opened my jackets up to allow the cool air to cool me down.

As i carried on walking i began  thinking about the  nile trip,  the dangers it had in store and the obstacles I'd have to overcome in order to make it not only possible but also a success. Crocodiles and hippos weren't my only concerns and certainly not the only things that could potentially kill me.

With my mind occupied by the thought of a future adventure i covered a fair amount of ground, i was getting quite excited but at the same time i was also still feeling quite hot, uncomfortably hot. Then it began to lightly shower which provided  a welcome cooling down.

A little further on the shower passed, it hadn't rained hard at all. I was now confronted with a river to cross. It wasn't deep so i removed my boots, rolled up my trousers and waded  across. On the far side i had to climb quite a high and steep bank, the loose dirt crumbling under me. Kicking my boots in to create a kind of dirt ladder and using a wire fence i pulled myself up onto the grass above. Following the river down i ended up on a long shingle beach which i was able to follow until i reached the arran ferry  crossing. From there i had to hike along the road to Skipness.

Skipness was not what i had imagined in the slightest. I'd expected it to be a small town but in fact it was quite literally just a small row if houses,  you couldn't even call it a village really.

In front of the houses ran a fairly long beach which terminated at a headland, it was where i was planning to end the day. The tide was once again a fair way out so i set about hiking across, as i did i passed two swan swimming in the calm waters. Little things like this are often a calming distraction from the exhausting 10 mile hikes i took every day. They were moments of relaxation even if it were for a few minutes at a time.

Leaving the swans to enjoy there paddle i carried on along the beach passing by a fine example of a ruined castle. Again i didn't make the detour a way  from the coast to investigate closer, the days hike was coming to an end and i was looking forward to the rest. A little further along though i did see something that did draw my attention. It was the ruins of an old chapel. What made this ruin so special. Oddly enough it was the windows. More precisely it was the red sandstone window surrounds that caught my attention. I had to take a closer look, I'd seen tens if not nearing a hundred ruined chapels on my journey but this particular one stood out. It was quite fascinating to look round and in the grounds, covered by wooden flaps that could be lifted were some excellent examples of ancient tomb stones with very well preserved carvings in. Again i felt like indiana jones uncovering ancient relics.

After taking plenty of time out to thoroughly explore the chapel and its grounds i carried on to the headland, the perfect place to end the day.