
Isle of Arran - Around the Coast
Posted 2020-08-01 04:33:14“Some people come to Arran to climb the mountains,” said a lady of a certain age to everyone within earshot, “I come here for the chocolate.”
From the Chocolate Shop, she had
crossed the shore road to sit and savour her sweets at a picnic table set in a
well-tended area of grass and flowerbeds overlooking Brodick Bay.
Behind her, passing cars carried
bags of golf clubs, mountain bikes, canoes or surfboards. There was activity on
the putting green, crazy golf course and bowling green.
On the strip of sandy beach to her
left, the bucket and spade brigade were also busy, possibly too busy to notice
an artist attempting to capture on canvas the shifts of light and cloud
patterns that played on the backdrop of forest and mountains.
Completing this postcard picture,
moored yachts bobbed in the gentle swell as the Waverley, the last seagoing
paddle steamer in the world, chuff-chuffed away from the pier.
The Isle of Arran, known as Scotland
in miniature, has long been a magnet for a diverse range of visitors. As well
as sandcastle builders and adrenaline junkies, it’s also an ideal get-away for
those who would pursue ‘soft adventure’ and good food.
Being in the soft adventure age
group, my ploy was to drive the coastal road, get sand between my toes on the
beaches, and walk some of Arran’s way-marked paths. My efforts would be
rewarded with stops along the way, on the Arran Food Trail - a smattering of
businesses, cafes, restaurants and hotels that make splendid use of local food
supplies.
For my first foray, Brodick Castle
was perfect. As well as fabulous formal gardens and a famed display of
rhododendrons, a network of paths meander through tree covered slopes and lead
back to the castle restaurant where the lunch menu boasts home-made soups,
locally produced smoked salmon pate, cheeses, ice cream, breads and oat-cakes
amongst many other delights.
From Brodick, Arran’s “capital”, the
A841 road twisting southwards, gains enough height to give superb views over
Holy Isle, before it slopes down to the coastal resort of Lamlash. Holy Isle’s
great bulk shelters Lamlash Bay where conditions are generally favourable for
water activities of all kinds. On a day of blustering wind with sunny spells
between showers of lashing rain, I watched a group of youngsters gamely
attempting to control their kayaks in the added safety of the harbour. A caravan on the pier was advertising sailing
trips across to Holy Isle (see Peace Perfect Peace on Holy Isle at www.writearoundscotland.com) where
everyone is welcome to stay in the Centre for World Peace and Health that
opened in May 2003. The centre aims to become a focal point for interfaith work
and retreat and offers a peaceful refuge from this hectic world.
The name Holy Isle has only been in
use since 1830. Before then it was named in Gaelic, Eilean Molaise, from
eilean, (island) and from Molas, after an Irish monk born in 566 who went there
to live in a cave. As was often the case with holy men then, he was imitating
Christ’s period in the wilderness.
To get as close as possible to Holy
Isle, without taking to sea, (I left that for another time), I drove on to find
the turn-off to Kingscross Point. From the road-end, a path bordering a field
where horses graze, leads down through trees to an area of short grass ending
at a strip of pebble beach. Holy Isle seems to rear up a short distance away.
Near the south end, the white lighthouse is striking in the sunshine above the
blue of the water and backdrop of green slopes patched with purple.
With such a view, on such a beach,
it’s easy to linger, to search for that perfect flat stone to beat a previous,
best stone-skimming record, but I wanted to get higher. Trimmed grass paths
lead upwards past waist high ferns,
tangles of bramble bushes, and rowan trees loaded with orange-red berries to the ruined outline of an Iron Age fort. With
extensive views back to Lamlash Bay and Brodick Bay, to Holy Isle and much
further out over the Firth of Clyde, it’s easy to appreciate why the ancient
builders chose this commanding position.
Further along the coast, Whiting Bay
is the next village and the usual start of a sign-posted trail to Glenashdale
Falls. It’s a walk of great contrasts. From near the seaside, the way leads
past well-tended gardens growing palm trees, eucalyptus, vivid blue hydrangeas,
hedges thick with red-pink fuscia blossom and orange monbretia. A board at the
end of one garden reads,
“Drive carefully. Beware! Children! Animals
and Frogs”!
The going gets slightly rougher on a
farm track which narrows to a path leading into the dark, coolness of a spruce
forest until an area above the falls is reached. This is an ideal spot to rest
and make use of the picnic bench conveniently placed a few steps from the river
before it plunges over the rock edge to the valley below. To get the best views
of the falls, there is a bridge here that crosses the few yards of river and
leads to a path going down the opposite side of the gorge. Further down the
path there are fenced areas and a platform that offers a great view of the waterfall.
Driving south again, the road leaves the coast to climb round the side of hills, dipping and bending and offering views of fields of sheep and cattle and, more unusual, Shetland ponies. Even more of a surprise is the sight of a party of peacocks at the end of a driveway.
It's worth leaving the A841 at the road sign for Kildonan and parking at the hotel, or further along the road at a smaller parking area near where the row of houses ends. From there, find the gate for a walk along the beach. Spot cormorants drying their wings and seals hauled out on the rocks. Inland the waterfalls dropping from the height of the raised beach can be impressive. Out to sea, look for the great lump of volcanic rock on the horizon that is Ailsa Craig, sometimes called Paddy's Milestone and the small island of Pladda.
Blackwaterfoot is the next sizeable
village with shops, a hotel, small harbour and other facilities for visitors.
It’s a busy spot. People come to enjoy the fine sandy beach or walk the coastal
path to the King’s Cave where Robert the Bruce supposedly watched that spider.
The way leads alongside Shiskine golf course, where anyone, from grandparents to grandchildren are encouraged to come
and play.
Similarly, further round the coast
at Machrie, golfers and non-golfers alike, are welcomed into the clubhouse to
enjoy home cooked delights such as chicken broth and plum and date crumble.
“Spike shoes must not be worn in the tea-room”
seems a reasonable admonishment on a noticeboard.
Hardly any distance on, at
Auchagallon, there’s a stone circle just a short distance from the road. From
here, views are vast - out to sea, over farmland and the Machrie golf links.
The few remaining upright slabs of the stone circle hint at the outline of a
large cairn. It’s now grassed over but some 4000 years ago this would have been
an impressive mound of stones for all to see, covering the stone-lined graves
of important people.
The road here hugs the shore past
the small settlements of Pirnmill and Catacol. Pirnmill takes its name from a
type of bobbin used in the cotton industry. When production of cotton continued
to increase on the mainland, a mill for the manufacture of bobbins was
established here.
The village of Catacol is well known
for its twelve, almost identical cottages, known as the twelve apostles.
Attractive as they are, the row is evidence of a sad episode in Arran’s
history. The cottages were built in 1863 to house islanders cleared from Glen
Catacol in favour of deer, which at the time were more profitable than sheep.
The road continues to follow the
shoreline until it reaches Lochranza. With its castle, distillery, ferry
connection to the mainland and safe mooring for yachts, Lochranza is a popular
spot. Though getting there is still a little bit of a delightful adventure, a
trip here, to the north end of Arran, wasn’t always so easy. Before cars were
commonplace, a bus company in Lamlash ran mystery tours costing 3 shillings -
the price included tea and entertainment. These outings were much in demand
even though it was known that they always ended in Lochranza. Seemingly the
best part was the community singing, with the bus owner conducting with a stick
of rhubarb. Ah, innocent days.
After Lochranza, the road bends inland to pass
through Glen Chalmadale, an area almost Highland in character where jagged
peaks reach for the clouds. A steep run down then leads back to the sea and our
starting point.
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