In Kirkcolm there’s a patch of green parkland where they’ve buried a millennium time capsule. The plaque says, “Dedicated by the Gala Queen, Nicola McClorey and her attendants...” How wonderful to be the gala queen in the year they decide to commemorate your name forever!
I wonder if Nicola (now in her 30s, I assume) still lives locally. Continue reading
In Leswalt I pull out my camera. The light is dull, but I want to capture this view because I like the way the memorial pillar in the graveyard echoes the upright tower on the hilltop behind.
I leave Leswalt along the road, and climb up the hill towards the tower. Yesterday, I felt too tired to take a closer look, but today I’m going to explore the place. Continue reading
The harbour at Portpatrick is run by a Community Benefit Society (a charitable set-up). The dock is quiet but active, with several pleasure craft and a handful of working vessels currently moored.
I’m feeling a little frustrated. I got up early and drove to a village called Leswalt – my planned walking destination today. But I must have misread the timetable because I discovered the bus I was hoping to catch doesn’t run on this particular day of the week! So I had to hang about and catch a later bus to Stranraer, and then a second bus to Portpatrick. Continue reading
I’ve had my confidence badly rattled by several scary encounters with cattle, yesterday and the day before. Today I plan to stick almost entirely to road walking, as I head from Ardwell to Portpatrick. (There is a short distance of coastal path towards the end of my route which I might follow if the way seems clear of bovine bovver.)
Ardwell seems very familiar now, with it’s pretty white cottages.
It’s another great day – blue sky, blue seas, no wind – perfect for walking. I catch the bus to Port Logan and set off along the sand.
There are only a few of us on the bus to Drummore. One old boy is walking in the same direction as I am – up the hill to Damnaglaur. I wonder why he’s going there. He doesn’t look dressed for farm work.
There is no bus service to the tip of the Mull of Galloway. So, today I’ve planned a circular walk from Drummore to the Mull and back again.
I park in a tiny village called Damnaglaur. (I’ve chosen this spot to reduce the amount of road-walking I must do at the end of the day.) From here it’s a mile’s walk down the road to Drummore.
I drive to Drummore and catch the morning bus back to Sandhead. When I get there, the kite surfers are already out on the water.
Two buses needed this morning, and my first bus is running 10 minutes late, so I see the second bus setting off as we pull in. Just missed it. Damn! That means I have two hours to kill in Stranraer, and won’t arrive in Glenluce until nearly midday.
I spend the time walking around Stranraer’s lovely Agnew Park and have coffee and cake in a café. When I finally get there, Glenluce appears to have its own logo – and the design is a little odd-looking.
By the harbour of Port William, a man leans on a railing, staring out to sea. The plaque in front of him carries a quote from the Welsh poet, W.H. Davies: “What is this life if, full of care, we have no time to stand and stare.”
