Category: Trip Reports
Trading rain for sunshine: A return to Arran’s hill country
12th July 2010 Last time I went to Arran, it was during an Easter weekend with a very mixed weather forecast. Despite that, I gained the satisfaction of getting to the top of the island's highest hill, Goatfell, and a bus ride around the island. What I cannot deny was the existence of low clouds and heavy rain showers on that first visit over four years ago, but something could be made of the drier interludes anyway.
The weather that I met near the end of June couldn't have been more different. So far, this year has turned out to be unusually dry in May and June, though July looks as if it is getting an unsettled start. Things weren't looking so settled as I travelled up to Arran on Thursday, with a belt of rain bearing cloud dropping south over mainland Britain. While on the subject of weather, it might have been best to stay east if I had wanted sun, but the allure of going west won out on this occasion. In any case, strong sunshine and heat tend to go together at this time of year, so gaining a cloudy respite is no bad thing either.
It was the clouds that were winning on Thursday, though the sun was getting through in spots and at times. Any ambitions of bettering previous photos of Goatfell as seen over Brodick Bay would have to wait, and it looked as if pleasing photos of Lochranza Castle were to prove elusive too. However, basing yourself anywhere gives you the time window within which sunny magic can happen, and so it was with Lochranza. After an evening meal, the skies let the sun through to light up the surrounding landscape sufficiently for some photographic endeavour to ensue before I returned to my lodgings to take up my bed for the night.
Arising next morning revealed that the day had made a very promising start. After breakfast, I organised myself for a day's walking, though conversation with another visitor may have meant my forgetting my walking poles. It would have been better to have had them with, but I was well into my walk before I remembered my omission. A bit more presence of mind than usual was to be in order for any descents, and having the whole day for a none too adventurous schedule was to help enormously. For once, I wasn't trying to cram in too much.
Having been perusing Paddy Dillon's Cicerone guide to walking on Arran, I had the bones of a plan too. Usually, these things can be rather wide open for me, though that can have its uses when you find something of interest to explore that hadn't come to mind until I am on an excursion. Those little surprises often add zest to a trip, and one discovery on Harris comes to mind from a few years ago.
If it wasn't for the recycling of hill names on Arran, my walk might have been easier to describe. For example, there are a few named Beinn Bhreac, but it is the naming of Beinn Tarsuinn that really complicates my description; there are three of them, all near each other! First up is the really rocky that can be seen from the island's east coast, and that wasn't where my wandering took me, and I had no inkling that there was a wooded top to the south of it too. No, I ended up bumbling about the triple-topped more rounded one out to the west of both of them, with paths up Gleann Easan Biorach and down Glen Catacol taking me away from and back to civilisation, respectively.
My hike started out along the A841, with stops to look back at Lochranza in the growing heat. After the distillery, I picked up a path that was to allow me to escape from tarmac for much of the day. As I was to discover, quite a few folk use it to get to Loch na Davie before turning back again. In no way were the hillsides overrun, but it did mean that I needed to share. Quite why one of the others needed to stay on his mobile phone for much of the way is beyond me. It goes against my main motivation for journeying through empty hill country: to leave all the paraphernalia and pressures of modern life behind me for a while to recharge my spirit.
After a spot of leap-frogging and the passing of a few words, the others were to overtake me to continue on their way, and I was left to enjoy the surroundings uninterrupted. The sky was taking on an ever milkier aspect, but that cut down on the heat of the sun, a development that I had grown to appreciate. There was no need to rush, so I had good luck all around me, with Torr Nead an Eoin behind me and a spot of height to be gained before I came to pass Loch na Davie in its own good time. Those who earlier overtook me were now coming back against me with their objective reached. There was another man walking very much with a sense of purpose; he wanted to see if he could retrieve his spectacles after his being this way two days earlier. As I was sat near Loch na Davie partaking of some food and enjoying a little rest, he returned after a fruitless search but minded to speak to the police to see if anything was handed into them. After that, I was to have the place to myself.
What helped towards that episode of total immersion in the countryside was my leaving the path later on. Before that, I rounded Beinn Bhreac with Glen Iorsa and its ribbon of Iorsa Water opening out beneath me. Carn Mor and the nearby rocky Caisteal Abhail were at my back, with the by now cloud-filled skies limiting the sunshine and any photographic action. However, the sun was by then in the wrong place for any successful photos of the rocky photogenic stuff; you need the sun to be in the west for that, and it hadn't got that far at that point in the day.
It was when I reached the saddle between Beinn Bhreac and Beinn Tarsuinn when I left the distinct path for some trackless passage towards the latter. My first destination was a 514-metre-high top before I headed for the 556-metre one before losing and regaining height to reach the 527-metre one. Quite whether one or all of these make up Beinn Tarsuinn isn't so clear from the OS maps that I have seen, but it was the shrieks of resident bird life that were taking up my attention. Were they trying to ward off a blundering intruder, or was something else happening? All that I'll know is that it stopped once I reached the last hummock in the trio. Anyway, it was a reminder that it was countryside that was home to other creatures, with a deer sighting cementing the impression.
From there, it was a matter of studying contours to find the least taxing descent into Glen Catacol. Taking in Loch Tanna might have made a tempting prospect, but I wasn't going to be so greedy. My legs were tiring too, so that may have been the deciding factor, and there still was some height to lose as I passed the waterfalls of Abhainn Mor with yet another Beinn Bhreac above me. Very oddly, it seemed as if there was an attempt by dragonflies and other largish insects to stop me going forward; rightly or wrongly, it felt as if my legs were being mobbed. It's not something that ever happened to me before, so it might be an idea to get up to speed on insect behaviour. Otherwise, there were a few folk, not many though, coming up against me. Were they headed for Loch Tanna?
After making pains not to trip on any stones that littered the path, I reached those more level and kinder parts. The sun started to try getting through the cloud cover as I passed Gleann Diomhan and its National Nature Reserve. This would have been where I came down if I hadn't deviated from the path to take up a more roaming course. Creag na h-Iolaire towered above me, and I might have been convinced that my climbing was over for the day. In fact, there was a little more as I neared the road at Fairhaven. This may not have been much, but it speared any sense of complacency.
Once back on tarmac, I had it in mind to check out the Catacol Bay Hotel for a spot of food. First, there was the continued battle between sun and cloud to keep me occupied as I looked back towards where I had walked. Meall nan Damh was rearing to the south of where I was and sending the road all around it. Out to the west was Kintyre, where I would be the day after.
When I reached the aforementioned hotel, it looked a down at heel place, but it did food all day and that was to satisfy me. It was good to know that I wasn't too early for service and folk were holding up the bar already. Suitably refuelled, I continued my journey back to Lochranza with the Claonaig ferry crossing to Arran for its last sailing of the day; it was to convey me to the mainland the following morning.
Unhurried strolling was to return me to Lochranza, though it would not have been all on tarmac if I had been aware of such thing as a postman's path between Catacol and my destination. More height gain would have been brought upon me, but my refuelling should have helped me deal with that. Apparently, there's a need to watch out for a rocky edge too, but I have managed loads of those so it wouldn't have been a major issue. Once back at my accommodation again, I relaxed a while before settling down for the night, a tired but sated Irish lad.
It wasn’t sunny everywhere, not that it mattered
28th June 2010 Depending on where you were, this past weekend might have felt every bit a scorcher. However, if you were stood around Rest and Be Thankful on Sunday morning, it was not scorching sun that you would have experienced but a soaking from a conveyor belt dragging showers of rain through the surrounding hills. Having experienced this a few times myself, I can attest to the amount of rain that can come down on you when the mood takes the weather. Yesterday though, I was travelling in a coach through it all after spending a few days reacquainting myself with the Isle of Arran and getting to know a piece of Kintyre.
Having a few days of leave coming my way, my mind turned to returning to Arran more than four years after a first visit that took in the summit of Goatfell and a bus ride all around the island on a showery Easter weekend. The base this time was Lochranza rather than Brodick and the immersion into hill country deeper even if the heights were lower. The sun may have stayed hidden by cloud cover for much of the time, but that may have meant cooler temperatures more suitable for walking, so there can be no complaints.
After leaving Arran, there was time for a trot along part of the Kintyre Way between Claonaig and Tarbert. The views of Arran stayed with me much longer than I might have expected. It looked as if it were going to be a cloudy day's hiking until that cloud began to break up to give me a blast of sweltering heat on the final approach to Tarbert with views over Loch Fyne towards Cowal to my right.
From Tarbert, I travelled to Inveraray for an overnight stopover prior to my coming south again the next day. The evening was perfect for lingering and, if you fancied the idea, al fresco dining on Inveraray's shore line. A cheeky incursion into the surroundings of Inveraray castle came to pass too and without any sort of rancour from the residents in the castle either; mind you, I wasn't making my presence that apparent. The sun may have been playing hard to get but it was the sort of evening that would keep you out of doors with its sense of quiet stillness.
Returning to the point on which I started this piece of mental rambling, the next morning was damper and that made departing not such a hard thing to do. Nevertheless, it always leaves open the idea of returning when better lighting is available, especially if you have photographic designs like me. As is my habit with these things, I'll leave the wider musings on the landscape through which I traipsed for other postings. Even though I never was that far from Glasgow, everywhere I went had the feel of a quiet backwater, so there was plenty of time for uninterrupted reverie with the theatre of the skull unleashed. Though others may be dazzled by thoughts of sights further north, there is plenty around Arran and Kintyre for anyone seeking restive and restorative peace and calm. All in all, it did feel as if the frantic pace of everyday living was far, far away.
Travel Details:
Return train journey between Macclesfield and Glasgow, with a change at Manchester on the northbound leg and changes at Preston and Manchester on the southbound one. Rail connection to Ardrossan for a ferry crossing (CalMac) to Brodick with a ride on bus service 324 to Lochranza. Ferry crossing (CalMac again) from Lochranza to Claonaig; all ferry travel used a handy Arran hopscotch fare. Scottish Citylink service 926 between Tarbert and Inveraray and again between Inveraray and Glasgow.
Edge
20th June 2010 There may have been wonderful sunny summer weather visiting us over the last few weeks, but goings-on in my professional life have meant that I haven't made the kind of use of it that is habitual for me. That's not to say that there haven't been restive escapes during the hurly-burly. In fact, lengthening my cycling commute on the homeward leg has afforded the spending of some quality time among still fresh greenery.
Not inappropriately given the prospect of a major change to my work circumstances (a change of job is looming on the horizon), some of those peaceful interludes have had me poking around the National Trust property surrounding the escarpment that is Alderley Edge. The result was that some aimless exploration took me in directions that I mightn't have followed while if I had a map with me! Even so, no harm came from them and you need to break out from the constraints of modern life from time to time anyway. The area is a confined one that I know well enough so not too much can go awry. Still, there are plenty of paths for a stroll and it's under tree cover much of the time too, a perfect antidote to the hot bright strong sunshine that occasionally makes its appearance around this time of year. Trees may be things with which I have a love/hate relationship but they have their plus points too and the National Trust's broadleaved collection near the edge offers plenty of shade when it gets as warm as it has been on the way towards midsummer.
Looking further ahead, it doesn't look as if this summer will get the customary longer break that has tended to happen every year in recent times. Nevertheless, there are some days' leave coming to me that I plan to use as well as I can. It's a matter of using what is available rather than having all that I'd like to possess. Ambitions may require control (the sort of Hebridean adventure that I enjoyed a few years ago is out of the question for now but you never know what the future might bring) but one or two possibilities are coming to mind regardless. Despite the constraints that I face, I should get more out of the summer than I did during the one when my career was first set on its faltering course a decade ago. Its next phase is ahead of me and I hope to keep up my wanderings through hill country. They have afforded respite from life's toils up to now and it is unlikely that the need will disappear.
Still distracted
14th June 2010 Last Saturday should have seen me go further afield, but another matter meant that I stayed at home. However, I didn't waste the wonderful weather that came to us entirely because I got out my bike and travelled along some of the local lanes; it's not the first time that the handy machine afforded a quick escape for a few hours and I suspect that it mightn't be the last either.
Places like Prestbury, Wilmslow, Adlington, Pott Shrigley and Bollington were encountered on the way as I took in some new lanes too. Prestbury's parish church invited another photo while newly-weds were being photographed on their special day elsewhere in the churchyard; I didn't disturb them and silently wished them all the best.
Rhododendron bushes were in bloom and that's why I went around by Pott Shrigley. Well, there's a certain view of Pott Shrigley that I have had in mind for a photo of the picturesque village, so I hope to get there one morning before their time expires; my evening arrival had the sun in the wrong place while it was being engulfed by cloud; meaning that another trip is warranted. Well, having another excuse to get out in the open air never can be faulted.
Catching some sun in Munster
28th May 2010 Last weekend, I crossed the Irish Sea for a more social visit to the south-west of the island where my parents live. While there was a spot of lawn-mowing, hedge-cutting and other bits and bobs to be done, there were chances for limited immersion in hill country too. Friday saw us heading to Gougane Barra in West Cork. The sun was playing hard to get until later in the day, but that didn't spoil any enjoyment derived from poking around Coillte's forest park in the Valley Desmond. There remains one trail that I would mind doing but it's best never to exhaust the possibilities of anywhere. In any case, having had good weather for photography on a previous visit meant that it didn't matter on this occasion.
If I had been dissatisfied, Saturday was going to rub it in with its cloudless skies and strong hot sunshine but I wasn't to be bothered. The sun did change my colour as I attended to lawn edging and other tasks but it was nothing that a rub of after-sun soother couldn't sort. It turned out that Sunday was going to offer more of the same, so hat-wearing and sunscreen were my defences against the attentions of strong sunshine. Letting down my guard wasn't an option.
Though many were heading for the coast, we struck on for Killarney. With the heat that was to be felt, it wouldn't have been the wisest to embark on a long hike without acclimatisation but it was not going to be that sort of day. In fact, the time was taken up with driving from spot to spot and strolling around them too. The locations included Looscaunagh (where the old disused pub is now for sale; who's going to buy a derelict building in the middle of nowhere in these times?), Moll's Gap, a stop to the west of Ladies' View, a lunch stop by the Upper Lake and Muckross House and Gardens. Though coach parties were being conveyed, Moll's Gap didn't feel overrun and it was only as we came downhill again that more and more other folk were being encountered.
Though there was a suggestion of haze, no cloud occupied the sky. Not was that a complete change from the last time that I was around there, but giving the sun unobstructed access to the countryside had a dramatic visual effect. In fact, I really have to think back in time to pick out a visit to Iveragh that was blessed with such good weather. The last one must have been on a Sunday in September not long after the turn of the century, when we were celebrating a family occasion with a ride out from Ross Castle around Lough Leane on the Waterbus. Before that, my memory is taken to 1995 by photos that I took that long ago. A few years before that, there was a drive down the rough track into the Black Valley and on to through the Gap of Dunloe. Maybe I need to visit more often to even up the odds of getting optimum weather.
With my luck with the weather around Killarney, it might be that 2010's visit will stick in the memory for being a photographic sweet shop. Only the chance of having an earlier start or a later finish would have made it even better. As it was, I had to contend with high sun and the risk of lens flare but I came away with something better than anything that I got before regardless. The viewpoints were by now familiar to me so I had ideas as to what to do with them and there was no fumbling in the ever strengthening sun. That's not to say that I wasn't open to anything that came my way and I now have quite a few photos to organise.
Apart from a longer out and back walk down the spit of land that separated Muckross Lake from Lough Leane. It was all short strolls for me, but that was no bad thing with temperatures hitting up to 25º C. That's not to say that some weren't embarking on longer journeys with a charity cycle in progress and a good of folk out on (hired?) bikes. Some of the latter were later found with their feet in the cooler waters of Muckross Lake, and who'd blame them? Others were loafing around in front of Muckross House as I caught it catching the sun for the first-ever time.
As good as the day was, I left with ideas for the future, with the main one being the prospect of a walk all around Muckross Lake. That would need more time than I had and figuring out something to occupy less patient souls while that is in train will be a must; I ended up most of half an hour late on returning from my walk and it sounded as if every minute was an eternity for someone, not good but I was at peace and I didn't let it get to me. An ice cream stop in Barraduff put that behind us and I got to capture a view of the Paps between the more urban paraphernalia too.
The day after couldn't have been more different with its foggy greyness, but things got ever brighter as I continued north to Dublin as I commenced my eastward return. It had taken over well by the time that my flight took off into the air. On the way over Wales, I spied the hills of Snowdonia and made out gashes like the Ogwen Valley and the Llanberis Pass. They were helping me to draw distinctions between the Carneddau, the Glyderau and Snowdon itself. In the midst of all this, I even tried looking for Moel Siabod but without enough certainty whether I had picked it out from the surrounding bumps though the Conwy Valley was unmistakable. Apart from recollections of Welsh hill outings, all this was reminding me that I am in the middle of giving the Snowdonia photo album in the photo gallery a makeover. That's not finished yet and new photos of Kerry already are in mind as is doing something with the uncertainties of the bank holiday weekend that is upon us. All this is the sort of activity that has to take second place to the necessary tasks of everyday life but it never stops in its own way either.
Those Irish strolls may have been short but I was left feeling so at ease that I ended up thinking that I don't go over there often enough. That's an old problem but resolving it could be interesting if perusals of recent issues of Walking World Ireland are to have any effect.
