Ages: Colin was 69 years and 57 days. Rosemary was 66 years and 199 days.
Weather: Sunny and very hot. A cooling breeze when we were out in the
open.
Location: Auchenbreck to Dunoon.
Distance: 14 miles.
Total distance: 2683 miles.
Terrain: All road-walking. Quite undulating.
Tide: Mostly in.
Rivers: No.324, Auchenbreck Burn. No.325, Balliemore Burn. No.326, Glentarsan Burn. No.327, Little Eachaig River.
Ferries: None.
Piers: None.
Kissing gates: None.
Pubs: None.
‘Historic Scotland’ properties: None.
Ferris wheels: None.
Diversions: None.
How we got there and back: We were touring south-west Scotland with our caravan, and we were staying near Dunoon. This morning Colin drove to Hunter’s Quay where he parked the car and caught a bus back to the caravan site. Then we both walked a mile down the road to a bus stop where we could catch the one and only bus to Auchenbreck. (It didn’t go past Hunter’s Quay.) We alighted at the road junction where we finished the last Walk.
At the end, we walked past the car to the ferry terminal because we wanted to finish the Walk on the slipway. Then we returned to the car and drove straight back to the caravan to have our tea in comfort.
Location: Auchenbreck to Dunoon.
Distance: 14 miles.
Total distance: 2683 miles.
Terrain: All road-walking. Quite undulating.
Tide: Mostly in.
Rivers: No.324, Auchenbreck Burn. No.325, Balliemore Burn. No.326, Glentarsan Burn. No.327, Little Eachaig River.
Ferries: None.
Piers: None.
Kissing gates: None.
Pubs: None.
‘Historic Scotland’ properties: None.
Ferris wheels: None.
Diversions: None.
How we got there and back: We were touring south-west Scotland with our caravan, and we were staying near Dunoon. This morning Colin drove to Hunter’s Quay where he parked the car and caught a bus back to the caravan site. Then we both walked a mile down the road to a bus stop where we could catch the one and only bus to Auchenbreck. (It didn’t go past Hunter’s Quay.) We alighted at the road junction where we finished the last Walk.
At the end, we walked past the car to the ferry terminal because we wanted to finish the Walk on the slipway. Then we returned to the car and drove straight back to the caravan to have our tea in comfort.
We trudged away from the midges at the road junction
as quickly as we could. It was a very
hot day, and we didn’t get any pleasure out of walking uphill on a road well
away from the coast. There was no breeze
at all, but we had plenty of water with us to stop ourselves getting dehydrated. The sun was behind a misty cloud at first,
which was a slight relief.
We decided to have our elevenses at exactly eleven
o’clock, so as our watches reached that hour we sat on a roadside bank to eat
our pies. The sun came out as we did so,
and it was cruel! We both hate the
heat — a holiday in a hot country lying on the beach in the sun is our idea of
hell!
It was much too hot to walk today,
but having gone to the expense of bringing our caravan so far from home we
really had no choice. So we just got on
with it. At least the next bit was
downhill.
We descended towards Loch Striven where we had good
views across this narrow loch. It is
surrounded by wooded mountains, and there were a few rocky outcrops we could
see above our heads. According to my geology
map, the rocks in this area are mainly metamorphic — a quartz-mica-schist. (I wish I knew more about the complexities of
metamorphic rocks.) We could see a
pipeline coming down the mountain just across the loch, and on the OS map is
marked ‘Striven Power Station’. We
assumed it is a hydro-electric plant, though a very small one.
We crossed Balliemore Burn at the top of the loch,
the northernmost point of this walking session.
Ever since we were at Southend on the southernmost tip of the Kintyre Peninsula, we have been walking
north. It was with relief that we
started walking south after crossing the bridge.
We were happy that our route would now be
almost due south for a good many miles hence. Nearby was a paper notice pinned to a post warning
about the danger of ‘Naturally occurring algal poison’. It went on to say, “Mussels / Cockles / Periwinkles
etc from this area as from the date of this notice should not be eaten. They may be contaminated and therefore pose a
risk to health.” We couldn’t
read the date of the notice because it had been smudged by the rain. This warning didn’t concern us, but must be
devastating to local people who have been harvesting these shellfish for
generations. We really felt for them,
and wondered whether the power station had had anything to do with this algal
bloom.
About a mile
down the road we passed the entrance to the Ardtaraig Estate. This was significant because we should have
turned off the road here and followed the driveway. According to the OS map this would have
turned into a track, then further on into a mountain-footpath across the
rocks. After many miles we would have
come out on to a ‘yellow’ road which leads round the end of the peninsula to
Dunoon. But after our experiences on
Walks 237, 238, 245, and on Walks 271 and the last Walk—276 when we were on way-marked
footpaths, we said we wouldn’t risk any more mountain footpaths in Scotland. Besides, after Walk 245 when we had been so
badly frightened, we made up Additional Rule No.16 which specifically forbade
us to follow such a path! So we
continued on the road, dull as it was.
A reservoir has been formed between the mountains,
the water trapped by two dams. We came
to the larger of the dams first, called ‘Tarsan Dam’. A little further on we came to another paper
warning notice pinned to a post. This
one told us, “DANGER Mud is sticky and
deep. Be very careful when fishing from
bank or when wading.” We
wondered whether anybody had come to a sticky end whilst fishing in the
reservoir, causing the authorities to put up this notice.
We passed the second dam which was smaller, then we
descended through a glen. We seemed to
be making good progress timewise — the Walk was a bit tedious so there was
little to distract us. We noted the odd
flower and butterfly. We glanced at the
rock outcrop by the side of the road (metamorphic rock again, that
quartz-mica-schist) and we passed an awful lot of conifer woods with their
regimental trunks reaching for the sky.
But it was really too hot to be out walking —
Mad Dogs and Englishmen……!
We came to
the village of Clachaig which is little more than half
a dozen cottages lining the road. But it
also boasts a bus stop which we had noticed the other day — that’s how we
cottoned on to the fact that there was a bus service we could use today. We had noticed it when travelling to and from
the previous Walk — the website ‘Traveline’ had told us there was no bus route
along this road, and we had planned to thumb a lift which is something we only
do in desperation, when there is no other way.
We sat on a wall in the shade to eat our apples, but
the midges found us almost immediately so we had to walk on quickly. We continued downhill until we crossed the
Little Eachaig River, then there was a little bit of ‘up’ before we descended
to the main road into Dunoon. Colin was
really feeling the heat by now and I was way ahead of him. So when I reached the bus stop where we had
caught the bus this morning, I sat on the seat to wait for him. We then walked together to a picnic area at
the end of Holy Loch where we sat and ate our chocolate. We idly watched two children play with their Dad on the strip of stony beach.
Holy Loch opens out
into the Firth of Clyde, and we felt we had just entered suburbia. After all that wildness of north-west Scotland, this
was quite a shock to the system! The
toilets by the bus stop were locked up, houses we passed were derelict and
vandalised — two of them had been destroyed by fire. What sort of a place were we coming to?
There was regeneration happening on the beach
— well, the area was being flattened — and I had to take a picture of a pretty
row of cottages to show not all was doom and desperation. But I must admit we were both shocked. It seemed so sudden after the rural bliss we
had been walking through for so many miles.
A floral trough welcomed us to Sandbank, but even this had a ‘wild’ look. (What made it worse was that we were staying at a very run-down caravan site along the road. The pity of it is that the site is secluded, roomy and green. It has so much potential, but it has been left to go to seed. The facilities are diabolical, and neither of us have dared to take a shower — we don’t trust the electrics! Perhaps that’s why we feel so hot and sticky. We can’t wait to pack up and leave on the morrow.)
We passed a man who made that
age-old skiing ‘joke’ about my walking poles, which annoyed me intensely. I expect he thought he was being hilarious
and original, but if he knew how many times I have heard that stupid remark……..
It was very much a working beach as we turned into the waterfront road towards Hunter’s Quay. Now we were by the open loch, we had a bit of a breeze which made us both feel a lot brighter. We were intrigued by some turf-covered floating sheds in the loch, alongside a few snazzy yachts. Ducks were floating along in the current and fisherfolk were busy along the shore with a backdrop of mountains, so perhaps all was not lost.
We could see ferries criss-crossing from Hunter’s Quay to McInroy’s Point on the edge of Gourock.
We passed the War Memorial on the corner, and shortly afterwards came to our car parked by the side of the road. We put our rucksacks and poles inside before walking on to the ferry terminal at Hunter’s Quay.
That ended Walk no.277, we shall pick up Walk no.278 next time at McInroy’s Point, across the Firth of Clyde. It was ten past five, so the Walk had taken us seven hours.
We had a chat with a man directing traffic on to and off the ferries. He told us that if we bought our tickets tomorrow at a garage up the road rather than on the ferry we could save ourselves a lot of money. A new firm has recently opened this vehicle ferry from Hunter’s Quay to McInroy’s Point, and they are very much cheaper, more frequent and more efficient than CalMac who have operated the ferry from Dunoon to Gourock for decades. In fact, so successful has been this new crossing that CalMac have closed their ferry to vehicles — it is for cyclists and pedestrians only as of this week.
We returned to the car and drove back to our grotty caravan site where we could have our tea in the comfort of our own van. It was good to finish the Walk at a reasonably early-ish hour, and good to feel we can leave this wretched place in the morning for pastures new — and further south!
A floral trough welcomed us to Sandbank, but even this had a ‘wild’ look. (What made it worse was that we were staying at a very run-down caravan site along the road. The pity of it is that the site is secluded, roomy and green. It has so much potential, but it has been left to go to seed. The facilities are diabolical, and neither of us have dared to take a shower — we don’t trust the electrics! Perhaps that’s why we feel so hot and sticky. We can’t wait to pack up and leave on the morrow.)
It was very much a working beach as we turned into the waterfront road towards Hunter’s Quay. Now we were by the open loch, we had a bit of a breeze which made us both feel a lot brighter. We were intrigued by some turf-covered floating sheds in the loch, alongside a few snazzy yachts. Ducks were floating along in the current and fisherfolk were busy along the shore with a backdrop of mountains, so perhaps all was not lost.
We could see ferries criss-crossing from Hunter’s Quay to McInroy’s Point on the edge of Gourock.
We passed the War Memorial on the corner, and shortly afterwards came to our car parked by the side of the road. We put our rucksacks and poles inside before walking on to the ferry terminal at Hunter’s Quay.
That ended Walk no.277, we shall pick up Walk no.278 next time at McInroy’s Point, across the Firth of Clyde. It was ten past five, so the Walk had taken us seven hours.
We had a chat with a man directing traffic on to and off the ferries. He told us that if we bought our tickets tomorrow at a garage up the road rather than on the ferry we could save ourselves a lot of money. A new firm has recently opened this vehicle ferry from Hunter’s Quay to McInroy’s Point, and they are very much cheaper, more frequent and more efficient than CalMac who have operated the ferry from Dunoon to Gourock for decades. In fact, so successful has been this new crossing that CalMac have closed their ferry to vehicles — it is for cyclists and pedestrians only as of this week.
We returned to the car and drove back to our grotty caravan site where we could have our tea in the comfort of our own van. It was good to finish the Walk at a reasonably early-ish hour, and good to feel we can leave this wretched place in the morning for pastures new — and further south!
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