The Tarbert area by road and foot

We mentioned that we'd gone to Tarbert so we could be invaded. Well, it was not by rampaging Scots hordes wanting to avenge various historical battles. It was a much wanted and happy invasion by Sheila, Niall and Penny, the doglet.

They came over by car - not easy as the Portavadie to Tarbert ferry was being operated by a replacement vessel (cannot bring ourselves to call the ugly little old thing a ship) which only held 8 cars. To make sure they could get on, Niall waited for the prior sailing to depart, drive the car to the queue for the next one (an hour later), went home and had tea. Smart move.

They had, madly, offered to show us some of the local area by car, places we could not reach by Brompton bike or public transport too easily. We started in Kilmartin, proper history with cairns and standing stones in abundance:

Sheila bravely scrambled into the one cairn that you are allowed into and did a good impression of a happy prisoner:

Some of the standing stones were in the middle of a field housing sheep. Quite an odd experience, so much so that the crew and Niall could not agree which way had the best view:

A great area, steeped in history.  Apparently the cairns are between 3500 and 5000 years old. The area had a very tranquil feeling about it, with just the odd noise from the resident sheep. Look it up on the internet, well worth reading about.

After the little walk around the Kilmartin area, we were taken to be crowned / anointed. Here is where and how:

The crew was rather careful scrambling up the rocky path to the top of the hill. We passed a group of ladies who were having some sort of spiritual wellness camp and had decided that this monument would contribute to it. Frankly, some looked like they'd been relying on alcohol or syringes more than the great outdoors - their barefoot approach was probably best reserved for the local sheep not humans on ascents like that one.

Once she reached the appropriate spot, the crew duly placed her foot into the mark on the stone:

As you can see, the crew's coronation pose looked more like a ballet position than a regal stare to be honest. However, she has one foot firmly planted in the right spot. The captain followed on, placed his slightly larger hind paw in the stone and felt suitably regal. So much so that Niall had to close the car door for him before we headed back to the boat. 

The following day we stopped briefly alongside the Crinan canal en route to Tayvallich. The place is a good anchorage and a popular spot for visitors by boat but we've never ventured up to loch to try it out. As you can see, the local road signs have a sense of humour about then:

The "town" is more like a tiny village. It has a little shop with a café bit that was shut. Also a pub / hotel which opened at lunchtime and we frequented. Niall had the largest plate of Cullen Skink we'd ever seen. He manfully wound his way through it though. The only disappointment was that there were no discounts for local royalty and that the owner came from South America, not the local area. He so needed a proper local accent to blend in with the scenery.

The horseshoe shaped harbour area had plenty of  boats on moorings and a foot passenger ferry service across to the Isle of Jura:

We are now tempted to head up Loch Sween to wet the anchor and revisit the pub - maybe even trying the café if we can pick the day(s) it is open. 

Our final stop was to be shown the oldest castle in Scotland:

Accessing it was fun. There is a public car park which is a long way "up the hill" from the castle itself. Sheila and Niall knew this and said that the best thing to do is park in the Castle Sween holiday park, right next to the castle ruins. Clearly the park staff are not impressed with that. We parked, a "customer unfriendly" character came out to ask what we wanted and said that the shop (our excuse) was shut. He had no idea what we wanted, but would have driven off any prospective mobile home purchasers with his initial attitude and approach. A pity as the location of the park and views over the loch are stunning. How they get the large mobile homes down the single track road is beyond us.

We duly looked at one that was for sale, saw that the veneer was already peeling off the table in what was a brand new unit and decided to keep our money. In fairness, we've never seen a park as well maintained as this one, the ample grass areas were manicured, none of the units were scruffy, a beach and boat park for launching trailer based boats etc etc. If you want a mobile home and don't mind the long drive from any major areas of civilisation, this is a good place.

A gentle scramble up to the castle followed:

and the lovely view from it:

You can see that Niall was still taking his tour guide responsibilities most seriously, pointing out something of importance to the crew while Penny looked on wondering when she would get to play ball.

Our final stop was at the Crinan end of the Crinan canal. We needed coffee and cake first then a wander around the sea lock:

and a look at some rather good artwork in the Crinan hotel. A strange place - still has a food award from over 30 years ago on display, the building is rather faded / jaded but it gets great reviews for the food and service. The lady owner is a well know artist so one of the old bar / restaurant areas upstairs is used as a studio for other artists and a gallery for their work. We enjoyed the look around.

Back in Tarbert, Penny needed to check out the local wildlife before the visitors / tour guides headed home on the ferry:

They had been so kind, showing us areas and history that we would never manage ourselves. A great couple of days.

Alone again, we did the walk around the northern side of the harbour to the little beach area. It was sad to pass what was once a lovely house where we remember kids playing on the lawn and lots of activity:

The vegetation growing out of the walls suggests this might be terminal. A lovely setting, a real shame to see. After braving the little "forest like " bit, we enjoyed the beach and views:

A local came down to the beach with his dog and on the walk back through the trees he said that there must be an interesting animal around as he could smell musk. Later on we saw him getting into his van - he explained that the smell was actually from his dog who had rolled in something like fox poo. Lovely, we really didn't want him to offer us a lift.

On a rainy day we walked up to the Gather - a café come arts and crafts come tourist junk stuff shop and enjoyed  a most unusual cake - almond and lemon. We were told that the lady who baked it added the wrong essence to her lemon cake mix but decided to press on anyway. The result was fine, a bit different but fine.

We were very happy for Sheila and Niall when we saw that their usual ferry had returned to service and berthed opposite us for the night:

We still don't understand why they need to run the engines for at least 30 minutes before they head off in the mornings, not a great alarm call. The excitement of having the bigger ferry back was short lived though:

Back for a day and broken. It limped into the harbour and had plenty of folks wearing hard hats on board who vanished into the bowels of the now antique ferry - she is 50 years old which in commercial ship terms is pretty geriatric. 

Maintenance News:

It was time to replace the Seagull water filter cartridge. Empty out the cupboard, put down lots of towels and fit a new cartridge:

then put it all together again. A miracle then happened. Perhaps thanks to the higher pressure that we get through a new, unclogged filter, the tiny drip from the tap when it is opened had stopped.  Long may that continue.