16th - 21st January

16th January day 317

The night was as cold as the kiss of death. Even though I was tucked up in my four season sleeping bag that claimed to be good to -22 and wearing all my clothes i still felt like I was sleeping in a cold storage freezer. It was light when i woke and worried for iain i foregoed my usual ritual to see if he was ok and had been comfortable that night.

Heading over to iains mansion i could see him already packing away. Very my best cheery voice i called over "good morning", there was no reply. It was strikingly obvious that this man who'd been a stalker from his entire life who'd spent hours at a time lying on the cold ground crawling through puddkes and mud had truly felt the stark reality of living on the trek. "How did you sleep?"  I asked in a more tentative voice knowing what the reply would be even before iain opened his mouth.

As we continued to pack away iains camp he told me how he'd felt the cold and hardly slept a wink. Nipper had been restless and his camp bunk, that I'd coveted during the night was uncomfortable and while on uneven ground had tipped over ejecting him and his duvet onto the ground in the early hours of the morning. Having given up iain had retreated to his car for warmth exchanging the uncomfortable  bunk with an uncomfortable passenger seat.

With everything relocated to the roadside i mmade tea and coffee for us both and rehydrated a breakfast ration. Iain politely declined a ration in favour of cooking up some bacon he'd brought along for us both.

With iain now back at his car fighting to keep his camping stove alight i packed away my kit and headed off to attempt to restore morale. Chatting about the night and sharing my discomfort with iain helped a little. Continuing to pack all the gear away a brief hail shower covered the ground with small balls of ice. It then began to snow, not really the perfect way to start the day by any stretch of the imagination.

With very little said and iain not really letting on how the harsh conditions of the night and lack of sleep had affected him he handed me a bacon roll and a mug of coffee. With our bellies satisfied morale amongst the troops improved greatly and soon laughter and jokes about the ordeal began to fly.

It was soon that our focus returned to the trek and although I refused to take any maps with me i showed iain my plans for making progress that day. It was to be quite a hike covering at least  12 miles before dark taking me to a cave I'd been told about while staying at the oban caravan park. St Columba's cave was situated near the shore at the head of coalisport loch and without the additional weight of my pack I felt confident I'd be able to meet iain at the beginning of a two mile  track which crossed a baron landscape ending up near the cave.

Iain took my kit in his car while I followed the   road. The hike was particularly easy and despite the wintery start to the day the sun shone down on me. Things were definitely beginning to get easier for me, the road was reasonably flat and there were places i was able to walk the shoreline taking me away from the road.

Along the way i enjoyed the views  and peace and quiet giggling to myself about the night before and the cold we'd had to endure sleeping beneath the tarps, the uncomfortable bumpy floor and iains rickety old camp bunk. Closing my eyes i could see him rolling out of his bed still restrained by his sleeping bag.

By the time I'd reached castle sween i began to be aware of the time.  The castle was set away from the shore just a short distance but i still had a fair way still to go. The castle was supposed to have been were i was to land in hoolley from Dana island the day before if the weather had been more forgiving. I wanted to explore the castle up close but ultimately had to make the decision to pass it by in order to collect my pack and still make it to my destination before dark.

Arriving at the agreed meeting place, the end of the road, i felt the temperature beginning to fall. A crispness  in the air as i filled my lungs warned me that I could expect sleat or possibly even snow. Iain had already arrived and i could see  by his expressions and the tone of his voice he was worried about the final stage of the day. Time was getting on but i still felt sure I'd be fine.

Taking a short break we chatted about my plans, myself trying to convince iain nothing could go wrong. Gradually i managed to convince him that the last few miles would be easy and was about to set off when a snow blizzard engulfed the area.

Was i worried,  well yes of course i was but would i let on, absolutely not. Sitting in the car i waited hoping the blizzard would pass or at least ease up. It didn't,  so after a while and with time ticking by i made the decision to head off into the white shroud, not something I'd recommend to anyone.

Snow was now laying thick on the ground and I felt a little concerned as i entered the bleak wilderness. Would i loose the track i was following, was it such a good idea to walk in the blizzard without even carrying a map. I had faith in my abilities though.

I'd hiked a mile before the snow stopped.  The baron landscape had been transformed into something quite magical. I had been a little worried I'd loose sight of the track but thankfully this hadn't been the case in fact the track was extremely easy to follow and in no time at all i was heading down from the hills towards the road running alongside the loch and towards the cave.

As i arrived at the cave the light began to fade but finding the cave was reasonably easy. As i approached the mouth of the cave i was taken a back,  it was considerably larger than I'd expected. Inside was an alter where visitors had left small wooden crosses and at the back of the cave i could see another smaller cave which naturally i had to explore.

As i setup my sleeping accommodation i felt the air chilling but being that the cave was a place of holy significance i felt that building a fire was somewhat inappropriate.

17th January day 318

I was surprisingly cosy in the cave and during the night found myself gradually stripping down to my boxers. The following morning once again the crisp fresh air filled my lungs as i sat boiling some water for breakfast. It seemed to be dry outside and i hoped it would stay that way.

After breakfast i cleared my gear away and inspected the sky outside closer. It had begun to rain and felt like it was getting colder. It wasn't long after I'd left the cave following the road taking me to the head of the loch the skies cleared and the sun began to shine. Had my secret prayers been heard by the big man upstairs or was it simply luck. Not wanting to analyse faith and religious beliefs too close i settled for mother luck. One thing was certain though, I'd be able to remove the rubber trousers i was wearing allowing my legs to breathe instead of sweating to the point my trousers saturated.

Released from my rubber prison and feeling the cool air brushing against my trousers was a great relief. I seriously needed to find alternative wet weather gear including the jacket, which I'm sure would be suitable on a fishing boat but out un the wild could potentially bring on pneumonia or contribute towards hypothermia. Attempting to complete a challenge such as this requires specialist kit, a luxury i simply didn't have. A challenge within a challenge.

I was now heading towards Tarbert which had been given the name by the vikings. Basically the vikings decided that anything they could sail round was theirs. By carrying their boat over the two mile stretch of land where Tarbert now stands and sailing around the mull of kintyre they claimed the land to be theirs. If only it was that simple for me.

18th January day 319

It was a cold morning with ice laying on puddles. I looked to the sky to determine the weather for the day but couldn't decide whether i was looking at clear skies or cloud cover. Venturing out from the warmth and comfort of my cocoon i was pleased to see whispy clouds and blue skies as far as the eye could see. Across from the camp site i could see snow capped mountains on the island opposite.

With hardly a breeze in the air i set off, my destination for the day was Tarbert where i hoped to pick up some more gas, wet wipes and hopefully a new tarp and to replace pegs I'd managed to loose during the recent bad weather.

It was a pleasant hike using the road to expediate my journey and because for some reason my phone had lost the days satellite images making it impossible to determine whether or not the actual coastline was navigable safely.

Occasionally i was able to see the sea from behind the trees that lined this particular part of the Scottish coast but the majority of the day i spent having the scenery blocked from view. It was a big shame by all accounts as the day couldn't have been more perfect. As five o'clock approached and the sun began to set i stopped a mere mile or so from Tarbert. It was sunday anyway and the  chandlery and hardware stores i needed to visit would have been closed anyway.

Finding somewhere suitable to camp was difficult but settling for  a small woodland i set up camp and had dinner. I'd now spent three days without mobile coverage, it would appear o2 although excellent on the north coast was somewhat sparse along the west coast.

19th January day 320

I woke around 2:30am, ice had crytalised over my gear, on the tarp and over my bivibag. It was extremely cold beyond the confines of my sleeping bag. The water in my bottles had also begun to freeze. Feeling a little thirsty i decided to use some if what little gas i had left to make a coffee, having to turn the bottle upside down in order to get a good enough flame to boil the frozen water i was able to pour from one of the bottles. The new stove I'd picked up from fort William was nowhere near as efficient as the one I'd had before and i was now wishing i kept it in my bag as a backup.

It wasn't until 8:30 that i finally re awoke after dropping off at around 4:30am. Peering out from my sleeping bag i was quite surprised to see a young deer no more than 15 meters from the tarp. As i turned over it looked straight at me, sniffed the air and darted off into the woods. Out if the corner of my eye, a little further away i saw another baby deer. It too hadn't seen me i grabbed my phone determined to get that illusive photo I'd been chasing for since entering the highlands. A photo or video of a deer close up. Fat chance,  i reached for the phone slowly, switched on, the deer now glaring across at me, motionless. A perfect opportunity.  I pointed the camera ready to shoot. A message displayed on the screen, something about low temperature. I pressed the button but the lens had ice on it and the camera couldn't focus. The deer darted and the opportunity missed, again.

Using the last of my gas i boiled what frozen water i could extract from my water bottles had breakfast and packed up. Although Tarbert was on the east side of the kintyre peninsula and i had still to hike the west side i needed to get more gas to see me ok during the hike to the mull of kintyre and back up to campbletown. I was also hoping to arrange a meeting with mark stephens from the bbc radio programme "out of doors".

Only camped a mile from the town it didn't take long to reach the town which in its self was weird as it would take me a week or so before i pass it again after hiking down to Scotlands most southerly point.

Walking into Tarbert i first hit the coop store to get wet wipes, coffee and double a batteries for my head torch. Then it was a few doors up to buy the last canister of gas from the iron mongers.  It was a small can though which i knew would only last a couple of days and nowhere near enough for the journey i had ahead. Luckily the kintyre electrical store stocked more than just electrical gear. In fact it had camping and gardening products too. While chatting away to the owners, big supporters of the rnli, they happily donated a large can of gas and replacement pegs for those I'd lost.

I then decided to treat myself to a cooked breakfast at lite bites cafe who offered free wifi. Using the wifi i was able to send an email update to mark letting him know my whereabouts hoping he'd be able to pick up the message to confirm the interview. With Facebook updated and emails checked i relaxed with a nice coffee, charging my batteries, mp3 player and phone.

It wasn't long before mark arrived in tarbert and we both headed off to record the interview. It was an interesting experience chatting away about the trek and future plans as we hiked over frozen bogs and along the shore I'd camped at the night before. Mark took my pack just to experience the sheer weight i had become a custom to over the last 10 months. After the interview we headed back to Tarbert where we said our final goodbyes and i returned to the warmth of the cafe to finish charging the phone.

That evening, after checking Facebook and discovering that it had dropped to -12c the night before,  i headed back to the same place I'd camped the night before and settled in .

20th January day 321

It wasn't as cold that morning,  the skies were however covered with an ominous covering of dark clouds. Once again deer visited my camp, this time i lay completely still, watching them as they tried to determine what I was. After a good 15 minutes the deer sauntered off, this time though more relaxed and un spooked by my presence.

After breakfast and having packed away i set of down west loch following a single road above the water passing several wrecked boats still moored. Laying silent their days spent and hulls slowly decaying. Past the west loch pier i was confronted by a locked gate, a sign saying "private ". Excercising my right to roam and feeling sure that i could get along the shoreline i continued.

A few hundred yards from the gate was quite obviously a holiday home, no one was there and possibly hadn't been for quite some time. Beyond the cottage i could see the track continued although it was extremely overgrown. Now unable to follow the shoreline i followed the trail. As i made my way along it became apparent that the trail now covered in plants with trees growing across had once been a tarmac drive way or possibly the main road. In places the foundations had been claimed by the loch and the tarmac was crumbling away.

Eventually i reached a slight hurdle. The owners of the property obviously didn't want hikers strolling through their holiday habitat. A large metal fence with barbed wire prevented easy access or in my case exit. Pausing for a moment to assess the situation i decided to climb a small rock face anf squeeze between the trees to avoid having to climb over the fence and avoid the barbed wire. It was a simple plan made so much harder than it needed to be with the enormous bulk of the floatation jacket, now led across and strapped down to my backpack, catching on branches as i attempted to make my way.  With much cursing and grunting i forced my way through to end up back on the trail.

The way ahead now looking more and more daunting with my old friends the gorse growing wild. With the jacket catching on the thorns if my old nemesis i battled my way through eventually arriving at a main road. It had been quite some time since I'd had to worry about high speed traffic. The peace and serenity of the trek was now to be disturbed by the noise of lorries, cars and vans.

Walking into the on coming traffic and jumping to the verge to avoid being squashed like a hedgehog or badger i continued to follow the loch, still within sight but beyond access due to thick growing rhododendrons and tightly packed birch.

It was a fair few miles before I was able to leave the main road. At the small village of Whitehouse i was able to pick up the scent if adventure. An old unused road heading through a woodland with a thick carpet of leaves would give me the chance to step back in time. Crossing a stone bridge i immediately found what at first i thought was a derelict cottage but on further investigation i determined was an old water mill. The building split  in two by a thick dividing wall had a crumbling staircase on one side that now went nowhere. The second storey had rotted into dust. In the other side of the wall was another room, its purpose undermined and on both sides trees growing from the centre of what i guess had once been a stone floor. Taking a little time out to look around unhindered by my pack was a welcome relief.

It was beginning to get cold, and i mean freezing. I'd wanted to get at least 10 miles in before finding a place to stay and feeling the drop in temperature through my fingers i decided to keep going wondering where the forgotten lane would lead me. My question was soon to be answered, it took me back to the road. Was i disappointed, yes i most certainly was. Was i expecting anything different, no.

Reluctant but with no other choice i rejoined the road to follow it. I could see the shoreline still but as the road meandered on it slowly but surely took me further away from where i really wanted to be, next to the water.

Thankfully i hadn't walked far before i came upon a lane that branched off the main highway. I didn't know where it would take me but it did head off in the direction of the loch. It was certainly worth following just to see and if nothing else,  satisfy my curiosity.

The lane started off by passing a couple of cottages and eventually ended up at a farm house from there it became a gravel track which eventually turned muddy but did take me to the shore. As i drew closer i felt the temperature drop rapidly as sleat began to fall. After stopping briefly to put the floatation jacket on as extra protection against the elements i proceeded down and across the shoreline. Now with woodland to my left and water to my right i felt once again at ease with the trek.

After a few more miles and a slight yet brief detour through the woods the light noticeably faded. Deciding my hike for the day was rapidly drawing to an end i filled my bottles with water from a small trickle and began to seek a good place to set up shelter and to possibly get a fire going. It was still relatively early though and really didn't feel like stopping just then.

Keeping my spirits high although feeling noticeably peckish i continued wishing to make as much distance as possible. I was still hiking the loch and had yet to reach the coast again. The sleat slowly turned to the light patter of rain as i came upon a kaki green caravan. Being ever the optimist i tried the door and to my surprise it opened. The caravan had either been abandoned or was only ever used as a holiday retreat.

Either way it was unlocked and suitable accommodation for the night out of the rain and hopefully slightly warmer than sleeping under the tarp.

As darkness fell i made myself something to eat and checked my remaining supplies. It wasn't good. Guessing my nearest post office and shops was either Tarbert or campbletown i calculated I'd probably end up four days short on food. A slight problem but none the less a challenge i was happy to accept.

21st January day 322

Even though I was nicely tucked away in side the caravan it still felt ridiculously cold. Waking up i immediately looked out through the windows to see what the weather was like. It appeared to be dry and the trees were still. Everything was in a freeze frame.

Leaving the caravan i headed back to get as close to the shore as possible which meant a short walk between a few bare trees and down to the stones that formed the shoreline. Hiking that morning was pleasant,  it wasn't too cold and as the hours passed the sun shone down unhindered by clouds, warming the air to quite a comfortable temperature. In fact it was beginning to feel like spring.

After a couple of miles i came upon a gate, a locked gate. A sign nailed to it saying "private ". The property most probably belonged to an English man who didn't obviously understand the right to roam hikers enjoy in Scotland. No problem i simply climbed over and continued on my way.

Ahead of me now i could see the coast once again. The tide was out which helped immensely allowing me to hike the shoreline below the boggy salt marshes to my left. It didn't seem that the weather would change drastically and i felt hopeful I'd be able to get a good many miles in which was important considering my limited supplies.

The next few miles were relatively easy going crossing a sandy beach, paddling in the cold waters if burn and clambering over slippery boulders towards the head land. It was great being back to the solitude of the remote coastline. No traffic disturbing the peace and no small talk to distract me from the task I'd undertaken. Once again i was alone with my thoughts.

Having navigated my way along the shores of the loch i eventually found myself at a small village. The pier had seen better days now crumbling up into large blocks of concrete. Passing two rather grand houses i noticed in the garden of the second not only an old rusty mountain bike decorated with the skull of a cow complete with horns but also a couple of creepy looking sculptures resembling giant insect type creatures.

From there the main road joined me, the noise of lorries and speeding vans. Thanking my lucky stars i was able to pick up a coastal walk at the far end of the siding which kept me close enough to the coast and far enough away from the road. With calm waters at my side and the sun still shining bright i thoroughly enjoyed the walk which i eventually discovered was part of the kintyre way, a 76 mile trail around the kintyre peninsula. Unfortunately after a few short miles it headed inland and i was back to dodging cars and lorries but thankfully only for a short way.

Back on the trail i found the going extremely easy. It was like walking during early spring and for the first time in a few months i could feel the warmth of the sun on my face. Climbing down onto a sandy beach that seemed to disappear over the horizon i began a long hike which reminded me of the long walks I'd made coming up the east coast. The ses was very still with small waves lapping against the shore.

Passing an unusual looking brick tower i decided to satisfy the Explorer in me and went over for a closer look. The tower was about 10' square and consisted of two storeys. At a guess i would say it was used as a lookout tower during the second world war to guard the entrance to the loch leading to Tarbert.  I could be wrong though.

From the tower and not too far away was a small forest, the spruce tightly packed and ideal for setting up camp. With only an hour or so of light left i decided to head over and call it a day. I'd had a good hike and was beginning to feel hungry and my left shoulder once again feeling the strain of carrying the pack.

Finding a good space near to some fallen trees, meaning dead wood, i set up the tarp and gathered fire wood to keep me warm and cook my evening meal on. I needed to save my gas as best i could as it was still quite a hike til i reached campbletown, the nearest town and my best chance if getting more supplies.

31st January day 332

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

30th January day 331

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

29th January day 330

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

26th - 28th January

26th January day 327

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

27th January day 328

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

28th January day 329

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

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

15th Jan day 316

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

13th -14th January

13th January day 314

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

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

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

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

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

14th Jan day 315

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

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

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

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