Skip to main content

To Kintyre

On the way to the ferry at Portavadie we had a coffee at Botanica at the Barn. There was a choice of tempting cakes but when we ordered they were still in the oven. So I had a sourdough chilli beef snack instead.


Two cyclists had passed us in the opposite direction but such is the compact peninsula that we met them again here. They were clearly touring with all their gear on board but I was surprised how compact it all was.

They have been cycling north from Sussex for seven weeks and thus they know what to carry. In fact they really started in Jan 2019 when they flew to Mexico and then cycled through South America. It was CoVID19 that thwarted this trip and they eventually came home for lockdown.

It wasn’t surprising to see them eating everything as they can’t keep up with the calories expended!

At Portavadie Marina we wowed at the sheer opulence and wondered whether £30 would have been a good fee after all for an overnight pitch. Certainly the sea-going people like their luxuries when they are ashore. The heated showers / drying rooms would be welcome I’m sure. 



Then we took the ferry to Tarbert on Kintyre. This is another turn-up-and-go route and we only had to wait 25 minutes or so and then it arrived. There was no docking, it slid the loading plate up the ramp and presumably held it there with the engine.




We didn’t stop in Tarbert, that might happen later. Instead we headed down the east side and turned off towards Skipness, where there were reports of pull-ins used by motor homes etc.

We found what turned out to be a fantastic spot and we stayed for two nights. It’s opposite Arran and close to the summer only ferry that runs constant in daylight hours to and fro from just up the road.

Yet again we had to collect rubbish before we felt comfortable. Who are these people?



That evening only one vehicle passed in the entire night. It was idyllic. The view is to die for. We listened to the constant sound of rutting stags and watched the very few lights on Arran  




Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Potes and environs

Potes is a bustling town that’s clearly ‘in the mountains’ but isn’t quite a mountain town. Well that was what we thought until we went for a walk. More on that later. First we got to know the site ( Camping La Viorna ) and the neighbours. After the squeeze of the first night near the pool, we were upgraded to a pitch at the end of the lowest terrace which had a superb view of the eastern massive of the Picos. So although this was still a squeeze pitch, somehow we felt good about it. The ‘squeeze’ happened later in the day. ☺️ Happily our immediate neighbours were quiet Dutchland people who like to eat their tea early and retire in good time. They always enjoy taking to us Brits, rather than those Germans and soon I was engaged because I was asked a question. “Why do you have a UK flag on your number plate, rather than a Welsh Scottish or English flag?”. Tricky! I explained that England isn’t a country like Wales or Scotland. They have their own  parliaments and make rules for them...

First views of the Picos

 Santillana del Mar comes as a surprise to those of us that haven’t done the prep and read about this place. Fancy having planning controls going back to the 16C. when you have such amazing stone buildings. This town is a tourist town certainly but it’s thoroughly deserved. Beautiful sturdy Cotswold stone coloured buildings are everywhere. The stone quoins, lintols and supports are impressive but there’s plenty of substantial hefty cross sections of wood too. We wander the streets, looking at the wares aimed at us tourists but encounter cascades of water from the roof tiles. It’s raining and there are no gutters! The bar is welcoming and we cleverly order dos caƱas de cerveza  having learnt this glass size from a bartender in Tenerife. We are rewarded with a plate of crisps too and settle on the bar stools, wondering whether to eat here. Unfortunately we discuss this for too long and the tables fill and we are left on the bar stools until we decide to wander again. Inside...

Lago del Valle

Continuing the walking theme, the next day we drove up another of the five valleys that connect with Pola de Somiedo, to get to a suitable start point. This was just below the last hamlet, Outeiro which is at the end of the tarmac. The intention was to walk from there, up to the corrie / cwm of Lago del Valle. The snag of the day was that as we set off to drive the narrow steep road up the gorge from the campsite, we immediately caught up with a full size concrete lorry, This was making its way to that last village and el driver was  not in a mood to pull over. So we had time to look at the gorge-that-becomes-a-high-valley. It’s hard to describe these landscapes. They are severe, incredibly scenic, remote and completely unspoilt. They are also so near the ferry ports of the coast that only £800 separates them from more campervan travellers from Great Britain (& Northern Island). We started the walk and soon saw the concrete which had already been dropped for the pad of a build...