Day 14 – 18th April 2007
Although today dawned bright and clear, it didn’t last long. Soon there was plenty of grey cloud and it was also by far the coldest start we have had. I started with my longs on and kept them on all day.
Breakfast at The Porridge House is an Event. Our hosts were very good at entertaining, and as we were eating in the kitchen, there was a very friendly informality about the meal, as we chatted with the chef as he wielded his frying pan. The fine points of the preparation and cooking of porridge were discussed, as were the merits of the spirtle over a wooden spoon for the stirring thereof. Personally, I prefer the wooden spoon, no matter how much this offends the purists.
When we set off at 8.40, armed with a very fine packed lunch, we were in for a morning of climbing. Initially the B7000 gave us spectacular views, but after Carsphairn, where joined the A713, there was yet more climbing, something like 8 miles of unbroken slog as we approached Dalmellington. There was not much wind to begin with, but as the day wore on a nagging westerly was more of a hindrance than a help.
We entered Ayrshire and its rocky roadsteads were not to our liking. Neither was the occasional enormous lorry which came thundering past, usually laden with the trunks of the conifers which were being systematically felled. There was not a lot of traffic, but what there was was mostly heavy commercial stuff.
Some of the villages we passed through looked decidedly run down. Patna was fairly scruffy-looking, which was a pity as the impressive River Doon runs nearby, and Waterside, a small hamlet, had once been dominated by a large travellers’ inn which was now boarded up.
We turned off the A road onto the B730 and after one final stiff climb we were out of the highest of the day’s hills and into rolling pastures, reminiscent of Hertfordshire or the hillier parts of North Essex. We ate our sandwiches by a field gate, but were keen to press on: we had to catch the 6pm ferry from Ardrossan and did not have a lot of time to spare.
Just after we reached the highest speed of the day, 39mph, a wee lassie on a very fine bike sped past us, wished us a “Good morning!” and was gone.
Now the hills were behind us we pushed our speed up quite a bit and it wasn’t long before we were in Dreghorn. I had planned what looked like a very neat route through an estate into Irvine, but every couple of hundred yards we committed the offence of ignoring a “NO ENTRY EXCEPT BUSES!” sign, much to the annoyance of one bus driver. Soon, though, we were through Irvine and onto the Sustrans route. This time it worked very well and was a good surface taking us all the way out to the ferry terminal. We were there with at least an hour to spare and seldom have a warm lounge, hot coffee and a sticky cake been more welcome.
Arran is a spectacular island and was shrouded in cloud as we approached, although with enough sunshine to give a variety of light.
The captain had to wait for the tide to rise before he could berth the ferry, and this delayed our arrival at our B & B. We therefore decided that finding food was our top priority.
Brodick is a pretty little town nestling at the foot of the Arran mountains. It doesn’t have much in the way of neon lights, but if it ever does, the harbour entrance should be emblazoned with the words “Ye’ll have had yer tea…”. As we left our digs at about 8.20 looking for food, we came across restaurant after restaurant which were closed. We tried a promising-looking hotel but were turned away: they stopped serving at 8.30. We walked the entire length of the waterfront and were just on the point of going into the Co-op for some ham, salad and rolls when I asked some passers-by where we could eat. They suggested a bistro near the port office, although without confidence. We found it and asked for a table for three.
There was a large blackboard covered withe exciting menu items and we were on the point of planning our orders when the waitress informed us that as the kitchen was on the point of closing down for the night, we could have fish and chips or pizza. Three portions of haddock and chips it was then and we each had a dessert as well. When we left, at about 9.45, we were the last customers.
We returned to our rooms, showered and did some hand washing. This presents a problem when we are late to our B & B. We have travelled as light as we dare, but even so we have three sets of cycling gear. Frequent washing is necessary. Washing the stuff isn’t the problem. And fool can make stuff wet with soapy water and rinse it out again. The problem comes with trying to get it dry before you set off again in 12 hours’ time. Our method is to take the kit into the shower with us, dry ourselves on the towels and then roll the kit up in the towels we have just used. When the lycra is no longer dripping we hang it up anywhere we can. This works pretty well for getting stuff dry – everything so far has dried after two nights’ hanging up – but then this leaves us with absolutely sopping wet towels. We just bung them in the bath or shower and then spread them out in the morning just before we leave. Whoever tidies our rooms after we go must wonder what on earth we have done to the towels.