23 May Cumbrae Again

Allan, Andy, Davie C, Jimmy, Paul, Peter, Robert & Ronnie

             
Of all the Clyde islands probably our most visited is the isle of Great Cumbrae, partly for ease of access and partly for the easy walking along its ten miles of flat shore road or the short, four hundred foot climb to the Glaidstone at the top of island. So it was something of a surprise when only eight of us turned up at the pier in Largs for the short ferry ride to the island. (To be fair to the missing ones, this is the holiday season for us old folks; the schools are still in and the low prices match our pensions.) Still the eight that did turn up were in for a superb day.

It was one of those bright May mornings when the sun blazed in a pale blue sky and a haze hung over the landscape, not such a strong haze that we couldn’t see for miles but one that stopped the landscape being sharply defined and the far hills melted into the blue distance.  And already the day was warming up nicely.

Contrary to our usual way, and in our new spirit of adventure, we turned northward from the ferry terminus to circumnavigate the island in an anticlockwise direction. That this was to be a relaxed walk in the May sun became obvious when, barely a mile into the walk there was a call for coffee and at the war memorial on Tormont we sat down for our first stop of the day. May flowers – sea pinks, spring squill and birds-foot trefoil - decked the turf where we sat, orange and grey lichens stained the shore rocks and black and white eider ducks swam just off shore. And we had a view, a view of the northern extremity of God’s county, that part north of Largs, the Clyde turning round the tail of the bank and the hills of Cowal. We watched the Dunoon ferry ply its route over a calm, blue sea. This was a great place for our morning coffee and some of us might have spent the day here lazing in the sun but the itchy-footed among us were already straining at the leash and too soon we were on the road again.

Not too far along the road we were stopped again. This time it wasn’t coffee that took our attention but five or six feral geese. These white geese roam wild but are always to be found in the same area on the island. And we soon found the reason for this. As Robert and Davie made a cautious approach and a nervous retreat from the hissing geese, a car drew up and a woman got out clutching a bulging bread wrapper. Her name is Nessie and she comes twice a day to feed the geese with a treat of bread. Nessie had no qualms about approaching the geese, hissing or not, and they followed her, honking and hissing, as she led them away from the road nearer the shore. They obviously know where their bread is buttered (or not in this case). When Nessie left the geese, so did we.

Now that our ornithological consciousness had been raised by the geese, other birds were spotted – oystercatcher, shelduck, cormorant, ringed plover and even wren and willow warbler. (We had to take the word of our birder on this last one as most of us can’t yet tell one wee broon burd from another.) Other ‘birds’ of a different nature pedalled up behind us on a variety of bicycles. ‘You’re no’ gaun very fast.’ said one of our number to them as they pedalled casually by us. ‘We’re just enjoying the view’, came the rejoinder. ‘So are we from this angle’ responded one of our number as they pedalled slowly in front of us. There was no answer from the ladies.

The ice cream was welcome. We had walked on another mile or so in the sun and were sorely in need of another sit down. At Fintry Bay tea-room we found the perfect place, sat down at one of their picnic tables and enjoyed the ice cream served by the young ladies of the tea-room. The cooling cones were most welcome for now the sun was getting hot and there was no shade out on the road. And, once again we might have stayed longer but the itchy-footed wouldn’t let us linger and too soon we were off again.

Arran was now in our view but the haze hanging over the sea prevented us from seeing it too clearly, though this didn’t prevent Allan trying to capture a good picture of it. And more pictures were taken when we left the road just south of Fintry Bay and took to a footpath up into the fields. Now we seemed to rise above the haze and the high hills of Arran were clearer and appeared to float on it. Cameras clicked often as we crossed the open field towards the golf course club-house.

There was some suggestion of a pint in the club-house but it was felt that it was too early yet even for Ooters for it was just approaching midday. So, when we gained tarmac here, we kept to it down the hill into Millport. The town was busy with folk in summer clothes taking advantage of the summery weather, so busy that we had problems finding a seat to sit down (Again? Ed) for a spot of lunch. Eventually we found a place beside the Garrison. The peece was taken sitting on a bench or lying on the grass watching the summer-clad sun-worshippers coming and going. Even the itchy-footed among us took their time over lunch but that time came again when we moved on.

We turned inland again and started the climb towards the top of the island at the Glaidstone. Once again we climbed above the sea-haze and the views over to Arran were spectacular. View stops were called as the afternoon sun and the slope took their toll. And the stops were welcome for the views over to Arran from this wee road really are special. Cameras clicked again and we look forward to seeing the photos.

The four hundred and odd foot summit of the island was gained at the Glaidstone and another sit down was called for as we took in the view. From Arran in the south-west through Bute and Cowal and the Loch Lomond Hills in the north, the Renfrew Heights and the Largs hills in the east to the plains of Ayrshire and the high Galloways in the south, this is a superb viewpoint. And we lingered there for a wee while enjoying such views and the heat of the afternoon sun.

From the Glaidstone the way was all downhill. Firstly we headed back towards Millport for that’s the way the road went. Then we found another wee road that cut back towards the ferry terminus. This brought us down to the coast again close to the National Water-sports Centre. Some instructors in full wetsuits were instructing similarly clad youngsters in the subtleties of windsurfing. We watched them in the passing and thanked our stars that such things are behind us now. Isn’t it great to be retired? But, retired or not, the ferry waits for no-one. And we could see the ferry leaving Largs. Still we only had a few yards to the terminus and we had to wait for a wee while for the ferry to come in and dock. Then it was back to the mainland having had another fabulous day on Cumbrae, easily the hottest of the year – so far.

A welcome FRT was taken in McCabe’s beer garden in Largs before each went his own way to his own part of the county.