Day 111: Southerness to Rockcliffe

A short walk today so plenty of time to explore. I pass what remains of Wreaths Tower before rejoining my old friend, the A710.

After a few miles I push through long grass to take a photo of Lot’s Wife rock but can’t get a clear shot through the clifftop trees. My endeavours are rewarded with several ticks on the bottom of my trouser leg, which are quickly removed.

The road walking ends at pretty Sandyhills Bay, where I stop for a coffee and chat with the warden, who tells me I’m in for a treat on my walk to Castlehill Point.

Leaving the bay, I climb up to my first cliffs in Scotland, enjoying spectacular views. I identify my first barnacle goose; apparently the Solway Firth is one of the best places in Britain to see them. Razorbills swoop up into the cliff face, rear up into a vertical position, as if alarmed by the impending impact, and step gracefully onto the ledges.

Bogle Hole looks interesting, so I climb down to the beach. It’s a little harder getting back up to the path. So much for a relaxing day. I have a habit of filling the spare time.

Despite the clouds there are magnificent views across Auchencairn Bay to Hestan Island and Balcary Point. Hard to imagine that I’m camping there tomorrow night.

Liquid yellow gorse flows down to the sea. The warden was right, this is a gorgeous stretch of coast.

Heading into Rockcliffe I ask a couple of women about The Garden Room, my planned detour for tea and cake. One of them offers me lemon drizzle cake as competition.

“I live just round the corner”.

Tempting, but I head to the tea shop. It’s a good call, relaxing in a very pretty garden, watching greenfinches on a bird-feeder.

I double back to the Castle Point campsite, pitching at the top of a hill with wonderful views across Rough Firth to Rough Island, a bird sanctuary. My small tent is dwarfed by the trailer tent next door. Kieran and Fran introduce me to their rescue foxhound, Victor. He is nervous at first, spooked by my hiking poles, sadly afraid of men with sticks. We soon make friends.

Scott and Lorraine are very welcoming wardens. Scott mentions his kayak and for a brief moment I think about short-cutting the long walk round the bay tomorrow.

“Bob the badger comes down from the fells every night in search of food.”

“A badger! That would make my day. Maybe I can leave a trail of mars bar crumbs to my tent?”

The campsite has such a lovely vibe. One of the best I’ve stayed at in terms of location, facilities, and hosts. To cap it all, there’s a glorious sunset, so I quickly climb up Barcloy Hill to enjoy the view.

Once the sun has set, the temperature falls rapidly, and I descend back to my tent, leaving all the flaps open in the hope of seeing Bob, but of course I fall asleep within minutes.

Walk distance: 12 miles.

Total distance: 1,674 miles.