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.