Portencross Circular 21 July 2010

We had been very fortunate with the weather last week but the forecast for this week's walk in Arran was so bad that Robert, our decision meister, started phoning round on Tuesday night to suggest that we seek an alternative. And so it was that seven ooters plus the junior member assembled in Johnny's before setting off to do the Portencross circular. The weather was dreich but the threatened downpour had not arrived by the time we arrived at the carpark and got suitably waterproofed. This is a walk that has been done many times before and has been well documented, suffice it to say that we started off in a clockwise direction and before long had reached the castle, taking time to see if access was available - it wasn't. Work has continued on it though with new doors, windows and lead roofing visible. The journey up to the power station was brisk and, with the light rain easing off, jackets came off to cope with the warm temperature. As we neared the 'Hunterston bubble' we were almost overcome with the smell of rotting seaweed, allegedly. Allegedly, because the appearance of the smell coincided with Johnny opening his jacket to reveal his new semmit. He had warned us earlier that the said garment would absorb the sweat but would also 'ming'.

He said it would ming
He wasn't wrong
Like a rotten bing
It truly did pong

Soon the rain returned; a steady, relentless drizzle. The pace hastened as we made our way off the shore road and on to the track that would take us towards the A78. Coffee was called for at our usual spot along this wee road and since it was decided we wouldn't be stopping again, coffee became lunch, Before long though we were on our way as we wanted to finish before we got too wet. We turned up the main road and then veered right at the sign for the smallholdings and followed the road past the new house, that still has not been finished, until we met the road up to the carpark. By this time the rain, although not stoating down, was relentless and by the time we made the cars we were well drookit.
'2 hours and 35 minutes', called Davie. 'Is this our fastest ever walk?'
FRT was taken, not at the Merrick, but at the Lauriston in Ardrossan where Davie C appears to be well known, the hostelry being a stone's throw from Ardrossan Academy. Davie's party piece today was 'how to sign for the deaf in Chinese'. As the pub television was then switched from the news to the racing, now there's a surprise, Davie will next week demonstrate the art of how to do tic-tac in Swahili whilst sitting on his hands.

We will try for Arran again on the 28th, weather permitting.