Tuesday 2nd August 2022
We caught the bus from Ardrishaig to West Tarbert to resume our walk. The day was cloudy and it was drizzling quite hard. We turned off the A83 almost immediately and were on a B road with passing places; there were a few cars and vans but they were few and far between.
The road follows roughly the coast of West Loch Tarbert. At Torinturk, several miles along the road a road sign reminds drivers that there is no footway which seems superfluous at that stage.
Unfortunately the road is wooded on both sides and so the views are not great -indeed there were no views at all because of the trees and the mist was right down across the loch. We just got on with it and walked; we did see some attractive Jacob sheep.
As usual we looked out for a suitable bum-perch so we could have coffee. In the end we came past Anchor Cottage which is not so much a cottage as looking a bit like an outdoor activities centre (but is apparently just a holiday let). Anyway, each side of the entrance is an anchor resting on a stone shelf within the wall. There was plenty of space for two small bums to perch in moderate comfort.
We continued walking with the constant dilemma of jackets on or jackets off. It was quite a warm day but it was also pretty wet each time another shower came over.
At Kilnaish was an impressive old burial ground now becoming overgrown. I don’t really understand why in western Scotland burial grounds are often separate from churches and frequently in the middle of nowhere.
A mile or two later we passed Gortan Lodge which has an impressive farm frontage though sadly now in decay. Jill, bless her, recognised it instantly from when I cycled from Land’s End to John o’ Groats in 2009 and Jill joined me for most of the Scottish section. She recalled us we propping our bikes against the wall for a breather. She has since found a photo from that trip not only confirming we did indeed stop there but also that in those days it was all being well maintained.
A couple of miles later, near Loch Stornoway (which is obviously no where near Stornoway), we came to a big “Welcome” sign for Kilberry Church but next to it is a mile post which confirmed that it is still 3 ½ miles to Kilberry Village. It reminded me of the old joke about the railway station. (A visitor was asking a local why the railway station was more than a mile away from the village and the local replies that they thought it was better to have the station next to the railway.) Anyway, there being no bum perches, we just kept walking until we arrived at Kilberry itself at 14.00 only to find there were no public benches in the village either. The village is just a handful of houses but perhaps in the heyday of Kilberry Castle there was more to the village. However, the Kilberry Inn, which is not really a pub but a Michelin Listed restaurant, had some tables and chairs outside. Since the place was shut until the evening we took temporary possession and had our non-Michelin listed sandwiches looking out over the bay.
Having seen the interesting phone box porch yesterday I was interested to look inside the Kilberry Inn phone box.
Having dropped into our usual reasonably fast tarmac-walking pace and had only a couple of short stops, we only had about 4 miles from Kilberry to where I had planned to get the bus but that was not due until 17.15. Today was a good day to walk on because it would reduce tomorrow’s walk and the distance I would have to cycle back to retrieve the car. More on that Grand Plan tomorrow. We decided that we could get to the end of today’s walk and then do another 4 ½ miles to Achahoish School where the bus would arrive at 17.29.
The weather was now sunny with a gentle breeze and the west side of the peninsula is clear of trees and we had excellent views across to Jura and of the shore line close to us and so the walk was a pleasure.
At about 16.30 the bus approached us and as we squeezed past on the verge I called to the driver that we would like him to pick us up on his return (just in case we were not quite at the official bus stop). He acknowledged and moved on.
We had about three miles to go and an hour in which to it which was perfect. We arrived at the school bus stop five minutes before the bus. The bus driver was a very friendly chatty type. Initially he admonished me for making my wife walk so far. When I told him we were walking the coast of Britain he then continued with his witty repartee most of the way to Ardrishaig. I had to listen hard to hear him above the noise of the bus from where we were sitting and to understand his strong accent.
Just Coasting 