The Whithorn Way continued

I met Charlotte in 2014 in Orkney.  She walked with me for a couple of days then as I crossed from Glasgow to Edinburgh and for a few days later, heading to Ludlow in Shropshire.  Ten years later she has joined me again for a couple of days on the two stages from Ayr to Girvan.  It was lovely having her company again as we battled our way each day into the strong head winds.

The path covered a variety of terrain, from coastal walking, including some pebbly beach walking, along with road and forest paths.  There were splendid views looking back to Ayr, though the haze meant it was difficult to see Aaran, the Mull of Kintyre, or Ailsa Craig clearly, though Charlotte could see them better than I, probably because she knew where to look.

Looking back - Ayr in the distance
Heading down some very slippery steps.  Charlotte forgot her beanie so she borrowed mine.

A pebbled beach into Dunure

Although we had breakfast before we left Ayr, we stopped in the fishing village of Dunure for a welcome second brekky of coffee and cake.  
Dunure harbour 

For many days, indeed weeks, the path I have been following has been primarily on near level ground, with any elevation being so slight as to not be discernible.  Not so after leaving Dunure.  We left climbing steadily for several kilometres, leaning into a very strong wind, until we reached the shelter of a forest.  

On this leg we exchanged one difficulty for another, a wet  and at times boggy, path, still climbing slightly.  It was worth it however for the wonderful views we got on reaching the edge of the forest, though we had to keep our wits about us as the path was not well defined, and signs periodically disappeared!  

A rest stop in the forest.

We made it into Maybole, our destination, before dark, having had to stop and don rain gear just a couple of kilometres from the end.  The rain continued after we arrived, and we got quite wet as we headed out to a pub for dinner. 

The next day, after an extra hour of sleep due to daylight saving ending, we set off in weak sunshine - soon replaced by cloud!  

Leaving Maybole

The first few kilometres were along a very busy road as the path took us towards, and past, Crossraguel Abbey, founded in 1244.  This abbey,  now in ruins, is recognised as the "daughter abbey" of Paisley.  Paisley abbey was given funds to build the monastery,  but hoarded a lot of it for themselves.   The result of the ensuing arguments was that Paisley had to build a sizeable monastery,  staff it with monks from Paisley, and they were given autonomy to choose their own Abbott - though the Abbott of Paisley was allowed to visit once a year.  Crossraguel was a Cluniac monastery, an order with pilgrimage as its mission.   Crossraguel is halfway between Paisley, the start of the Whithorn Way, and Whithorn, a very important pilgrimage destination of old.

Crossraguel Abbey 

We were delighted to reach Kirkoswald, or more particularly, the Souters Inn in the village, where we imbibed of a wonderful second breakfast.  Both of us had the light Scottish Breakfast, which was as big as any full sized breakfast I've seen thus far.  there is a famous Burns poem (that mentions Souter Johnnie).  We passed Souter (meaning bootmaker) Johnnie's house, built in 1786, on the way into the village.

Souter Johnnie's house

The old church in Kirkoswald....
... and a giant willow in the corner of the churchyard.

The path then took us along quiet back roads, dropping down towards the coast, where we, yet again, battled a fierce wind.  As we were approaching the end of the day, only a few kilometres from our destination of Girvan, we were again forced to stop and don rain gear - just like the previous day.  The bonus was that we managed to walk most of the day without rain gear on.

A little beach walking, until the terrain, and the tide ....
... sent us up onto a rough grassy path.

This was where Charlotte was leaving me to catch the train to her home in Stirling.  I left my bag at the hotel, and then we headed out for an early dinner before heading to the station.

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