Day 13 09/08/07

Thursday 9th August 2007. Leg 11: Tarbolton to Glendaruel.

So this is Middlemuir Caravan park. We are parked on a slight slope. More ‘Titanic’ parallels, this time it’s the crockery, which seems to want to slide from the shelves at the slightest opportunity.

Off at 09:15, into a bright and apparently windless day. Not a cloud on the horizon.

Second breakfast at Monkton Lodge services near Prestwick Airport. Muffins, cappuccino, J2O. Hanging on the wall, an empty box, labelled “Take-Away Menu” causes to me to pause a while and ponder.

Swarms of tiny black flies hit us on the A77. Keep your mouth shut.

Then onto the A78, where “The Great White Whiskerless One” stares impassively as we pass (see Finn McCool, Leg 9).

Negotiating the roads round Irvine, there was much more broken glass to be seen on the roadside. Every morning before we set out, I make sure I check the tyres for embedded sharp objects. Note to self: extra vigilance require when checking tomorrow.

Meet Jacky at Tesco Irvine, 11:30. The hugest tower of Pringles I have ever seen is there. Is it in the guidebooks? Very tasty paninis in the café, surrounded by happy-looking pre-school kiddies being fed (Tesco – very little whelps). Left after a very long stay of about an hour.

Up the A78, very hot on the ascents, with a few short stops along the way to try and get some shade for Georgina. Some like it hot. She does not.

Then we’re on the flat coastal run to Wemyss Bay (meeting J. in a layby North of Largs). My eye was caught by a Hillman Imp in pristine condition, just south of the ferry terminal. Boarded the 16:45 ferry, together with white van lady, yay!

At Rothesay, Jacky pushes on towards the ferry off Bute to Colintraive. We stop for a bit a snap, and the weather has suddenly gone overcast. Fancied an Ice Cream, but we felt our delicate Sassenach pallets might not be up to Irn Bru flavour, not helped by the chip-fat smell emanating from the shop. We headed for Rhubodach (Rubber Duck?) to follow Jacky’s tyre-tracks to the ferry. Georgina’s verdict on Rothesay: “like a cross between Tobermory and Morecambe, but without the nice ice cream.”

Just rolled down to the ferry, up the ramp and off it went. (Good of them to wait for us).

9 miles North, arrived at campsite around 20:00, via the back road up the Glen. Consequently nearly couldn’t find the campsite. But we asked at a nearby cottage. Owls in evidence in the trees, and quite a few midges too. Jacky had prepared a hearty meal Further re-planning ensued, to capitalise on the miles gained from yesterday’s sacrifice of the rest day.

A few spots of rain, followed by overnight rain.

The insect scores:
Midges: few – black flies: infinity.
Couple of buzzards and the odd heron spotted along the route.

(Thoughts as I drift off to sleep: Am I imagining it, or is the Brooks a tad less uncomfortable today? Could be down to better road services. Georgina has been very tolerant of the few bad calls I’ve made today on the navigation front. Perhaps we are finally gelling together as a team. Is this Glenda Jackson? No Glendaruel Zzz…)


Distance covered: 63.2 miles
Moving time: 06:48
Average speed: 9.3 mph
Maximum speed: 28.0 mph.