Day Eight: Culzean Castle to Greenan Castle

A day of two (actually three) castles!

I slept well at the wonderful Culzean Camping and Caravanning Club site, which welcomes non-members, and who graciously volunteered to refund me £3 because I was a backpacker and there hadn’t been an option to book as a backpacker on the website.

It was a slow get-up today; I was so comfy, so enjoying my rest, and lingered over my tasty Tent Meals berry breakfast porridge. The view is also fantastic from that campsite, and I highly recommend it.

Eventually I packed up and was on my way by 9.30am, gently traipsing down the hill into the grounds of Culzean. It was tempting to wander and take lots of photos of the beautiful grounds and buildings, but I knew that the day ahead would be a bit tougher and longer than I’ve done the last couple of days, so I was eager not to spend more energy than I had to.

It’s one of the things I find a bit of a wrestle with long routes, especially when booking ahead and dealing with self-imposed time limits: how much extra time and energy do we spend on the places we pass through? Certainly we see more by walking than driving, and have a chance to connect with the God-given gift of this incredible world around us, but even when walking it’s very easy to just want to press on.

It fascinated me, therefore, that as I reached the paths down to the shore at Culzean, the pathway there was marked as the ‘Dolphin Trail’ not only as a path to see things around the estate, but to explore some of the things within us too: a little bit of pilgrimage spirituality creeping into a secular leisure experience?

I was forced to face the question of dwelling or pushing on again later as I was passing through the half-way point of the day at Dunure Castle (the second castle of the day) and didn’t explore the open doors and passageways of the castle. I was feeling a bit tired and in need of finding a place to stop and rest, and even a bit worried about dropping my bag and leaving it while I could explore.

On the other hand, I did end up stopping just north of Dunure, having found a beautiful, secluded cove. It was sheltered from the stiff breezes of the day by high cliffs and rocks around and behind, soft grass for sitting (and lying) on, and amazing views across the turquoise sea to the blue-hazed island of Arran.

That morning’s walk from Culzean to Dunure was helped by having the wind at my back. There was significant time on the beach, with the usual challenges of finding firm sand and navigating large pebble beaches. I had made good time, however, and felt pretty focussed, if not exactly energetic!

There was also a fair amount of moving between shore-side and cliff-top walking today, with the necessary ascents and descents that a mixture like that entails. Once again I found that, although climbs up the headlands are physically challenging, I tend to find them invigorating, especially when there are such wonderful views to be had. I suppose they also afford a fairly immediate sense of achievement that is missing from struggling along a flat but technically difficult pebble beach.

There were repeated warnings today, whenever the path turned inland, of sheep with lambs and cows with calves, always for “the next 3-4 miles”. Having said what I did yesterday about the preponderance of cattle for the last sixty-something miles, today the fields were filled with sheep or crops. It’s not that I don’t like cows (in fact I love to relax to the YouTube videos of a Galloway hoof trimmer called The Hoof GP,) but sheep inspire less adrenaline!

In terms of wildlife, I again was accompanied by ringed plover and oystercatchers today, and also herons. It struck me that I’ve actually encountered herons frequently throughout this journey so far, but have not mentioned them. Often, I’ll come around a turn in the path or out onto a beach, and a heron will take off from just nearby; to the point that it has begun to feel like they are waiting for me, even travelling with me. Always so far, they have been solitary herons, but today I was greeted by a pair on the beach just north of Culzean. They are such elegant, distinctive, and rare (to me) birds that they capture my attention, and their appearance so frequently along the way has become something of a point of continuity among constant daily change.

The paths today were a really mixed bunch that sums up my experience of the Ayrshire Coastal Path so far: when moving through fields or climbing and descending cliffs, they were really well marked and defined. Then, when sent to the shores, the marks often disappear, and the hiker is left to find their own way, whether over dunes, pebbles, or sands.

This contrast was highlighted in the differences between a two section of the path that were close together towards the end of the day. First was the part that follows a dismantled railway, which was clear, well-kept, and easy underfoot. It wasn’t boring either: the views were great and there was plenty of wildness creeping over the embankments. In contrast, the path then returned to the beach and turned east under the Heads of Ayr. The views here were certainly spectacular, but the pathway was unmarked and incredibly difficult to navigate due to the moderate, seaweed covered rocks, and smooth, large pebbles. These demanded constant vigilance not to turn an ankle, and I was very glad of my walking poles. There was also very little space between the water and the cliffs, and this was at a state of fairly low tide.

I took a break to recover my energy after the Heads of Ayr section, even though there remained only a mile and a half in the day’s walking. The path at this section passes a water treatment site, a caravan park, and the final castle of the day (Greenan) in one short piece of coastland. There’s probably something significant in that combination of land usage, but I’m not sure what it is.

The castle of Greenan itself is another cliff-bound castle, as all three today have been, but Greenan more than any stands in the most precarious-feeling position. As you pass under it, it really feels like one of those Tudor houses, leaning out above you on top of the headland, straining out towards the sea that is gradually undermining its foundations.

And I was straining out with my steps by this point, keen to reach the Greenan carpark where I was met by Mum & Dad to bring me to Troon for a comfortable night. Tomorrow is to be a shorter day, from Greenan back to Troon, and with two nights in the same place I can leave some of my kit behind and carry a lighter ‘day bag.’

Without preempting tomorrow’s entry, it promises to be a bit different, partly because it’s more built up, passing along the sea fronts of Ayr, Prestwick, and Troon; and partly because I know all three fairly well - certainly better than any section I’ve walked so far. Will familiarity make a difference to the experience?

Bless you, and thank you for all your comments and interactions. I look forward to catching up with you each day.