CLIII – Kilwinning to Largs

Hasteful MammalMORNING in Kilwinning was heralded by the light pitter-patter of drizzle upon the window, which did little to compel me to leave my nice warm bed.  Summoning every ounce of available willpower, I forced myself up and into the bathroom where the cold, tiled floor leached out my body heat in seconds.  This was clearly a situation in need of a remedy and that remedy came in the form of as much cooked breakfast as I could physically shove into my face.  Right, now I was set for a full day’s walking; drizzle be damned!

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CLI – Girvan to Ayr

Hasteful MammalTHE sky was blue and the sun blazing fiercely when I returned to Girvan late in August.  Doused head to toe in my own bodyweight of sunscreen, I strolled back towards the harbour ready to continue from more-or-less where I left off.  This would be the first of three days of walking, covering the sixty-odd miles or so between Girvan and Largs.  Day one’s objective was Ayr, Ayrshire’s historic county town, where I would stay overnight.

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CXLII – Gatehouse of Fleet to Newton Stewart

Hasteful MammalON THE second day of my recent Galloway gallivant, I decided to consider my options carefully.  I planned to walk from Gatehouse of Fleet to Newton Stewart and three possible routes presented themselves.  I could stick to the coast and dodge lorries on the A75 for fourteen miles or I could head inland and follow one of two alternatives, namely National Cycle Network route 7 and an old military road.  It was time to consult the self-imposed rules by which these walks are governed…

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CXXXIV – Silloth to Bowness-on-Solway

Hasteful MammalON THE second morning of my mid-August trip, I awoke to the grey diffuse light and gentle pitter-patter of the rain that had been promised by the Met Office.  Fortunately, I had prepared for this eventuality by packing waterproof walking gear.  Well, mostly waterproof.  I walked in it anyway

I quickly decided that were I to stay and have breakfast, I’d never go out in the rain.  Instead I’d spend the day in the warm and then catch a bus to Carlisle.  That was hardly the point of my trip, so I forced myself outside.  It was cold. It was wet. But now that I was out in it, I was in fairly high spirits. The road beckoned, promising a damp and drizzly adventure.

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