Coastal hiking in Scotland is a huge challenge compared to England and Wales. There is no national coast path, which is understandable, given the mainland has 6,000+ miles of, often remote, coastline; 11,000+ miles if you include the islands. In addition, OS maps do not show a large proportion of paths, requiring other information sources (e.g. the core paths network). The upside is the “right to roam”, allowing public access to most land, including for wild camping. So, I have greater flexibility, but more difficult navigation and harder terrain. Today is my first experiment.
After some initial road walking, I cut down to the shoreline at Baurch. Heavy clouds are unable to obscure the profile of the Lake District mountains across the Solway Firth.
There’s a core path sign leading me to the edge of the huge Eastriggs MOD ammunition depot, last used in 2010.
The path vanishes. I try to pick my way along the shoreline rather than a long detour inland. Big mistake. My boots start to sink into the mud, so I end up hopping between grassy mounds, across a network of gullies filled with oily water. A snail could make faster progress.
The grass gives way to tall reeds and I crunch through, testing the mud underfoot with my poles.
Freedom! There is a new core path where the MOD perimeter fence ends, which makes it easy going to Battlehill, where I turn inland.
The Blue Bell Inn in Annan is a former coaching inn dating from 1770, where Hans Christian Anderson is said to have stayed, and my planned lunch stop. Unfortunately, it’s a wet pub, but well worth a visit. Donna, serving behind the bar, kindly gives me my first beer on the house, as we both follow another coastal hiker, Daniel, who is walking for the armed forces charity SSAFA. He comes from nearby Castle Douglas.
It may be a wet pub, but the cheese and biscuits on the bar are delicious. I feel obliged to stay for a second pint. There are a few regulars at the bar, who fall about laughing when I butcher the pronunciation of Kirkcudbright, my final destination; not an easy one. Donna is also the local coastguard, so we may meet again if I stray too far onto the mudflats.
Leaving the pub, I follow the Annandale Way, before moving down to the stony beach, passing Powfoot, to West Moss-side campsite. Where is the entrance from the beach? Trying to climb through a fence, my backpack catches on the top wire, and I end up crawling on my hands and knees.
“Hey lad!”
I’m surprised to hear a Yorkshire accent and even more surprised to be called “lad”. The farmer is no doubt amused by my antics at the fence. It’s a nice, quiet site, and he shows me the most sheltered spots. There are a couple of camper vans and one of the occupants comes over to say hello and ask if I’m sharing my mars bar.
The sun finally appears, just in time for a lovely sunset, but I’m too tired to venture out from my cosy sleeping bag. These Scottish coastal miles are bloody hard miles, and I fear they are only going to get tougher the further north I progress.
Walk distance: 19 miles.
Total distance: 1,659 miles.
Well you survived your first trip then. It sounds like you have discovered that for someone from England place names in Scotland can be as confusing as those in Wales when you attempt to pronounce them. This has caused me a few problems too.
“These Scottish coastal miles are bloody hard miles, and I fear they are only going to get tougher the further north I progress”
I’m afraid the answer to this is yes. Progress in Scotland tends to be significantly slower than in England and Wales, expect for places where there is an official coast path (but even then it can sometimes be tough or tidal dependant). As you’ve found some Core Paths are little more than a sign at either end and there aren’t that many of them, either.
After my first week I have realised I need to do a lot more route planning than I am used to. Of course, your blog, and the others I follow, are invaluable in considering the options. I hope to throw in some new “variants”.
Hi Tony. well done and a great introduction to Walking the Scottish Coast.. you are certainly correct in thinking it will get much tougher as you venture towards the west and north. cheers
Thanks Alan. It is enjoyable to read your blog and get another perspective on the journey, plus some helpful pointers.
I’m not a fan of mud and I don’t envy you walking that stretch of coast. I fear there’s more mud to come! Half way between Dornockbrow and the Dornock road there’s quite a sizeable burn with high banks that you must have crossed and I wondered if there’s a bridge across it now. There used to be 2 parallel metal girders across it, each one about the width of your foot and it took some courage to cross over – and very good balance. We called it the postman’s bridge and would dare each other to cross it.
I’d never heard of a wet pub (I must have led sheltered life)but as I remember the Bluebell Inn I could guess what it meant!
I know exactly the crossing you mean! One for a future post. 😉
As a man who enjoys a good pub, I was also surprised to hear the term “wet pub” for the first time. I googled it and it appears to be a well established term. Always learning.
Hi Tony , hope your well & plodding on. Glad you enjoyed your biccies & cheese , not sure how far up coast you are but Daniel is back in kirkcudbright ( we are still laughing) for a short stay hopefully you will be able to catch up with him . Enjoy your travels & keep out of the mud . D
Hey Donna. Great to hear from you. I have been practising hard on my Scottish towns before I head back north again later this month! I slept well that night after fine beers and fresh air. 🙂
We were staying in this area at the weekend – we visited Annan, having walked a bit of the Way, and rejected the Blue Bell for somewhere with food. We also went to Eastrigg to the Devil’s Porridge Museum about the munitions factory in WW1. Horrifying stuff!
Aha, I did not realise there was a museum. So many fenced off areas around there; old factories etc. A lot of history. I shall no doubt learn more when you post on your blog.
Eventually!
You are probably going to find that a lot of Scottish footpaths are basically purely notional – sometimes at the start and sometimes (alarmingly) partway through, when they suddenly evaporate. On the plus side, when you get up into the highlands, it is an absolutely beautiful place to be lost in.
That’s a fine attitude. 🙂