Day 242: Glendaruel to Tarbert

It rained all night and mist lies on the hills. There’s the consolation of warm boots and clothes from the drying room.

Last night, I entered the campsite through a tiny gate in the trees. Leaving via the main entrance, the traffic is faster and busier than expected for a minor road at this hour. This is because I’m on the wrong road and heading in the wrong direction. That’s an extra mile I didn’t need. My brain is clearly not functioning yet — I need coffee.

I make an early stop to visit the Kilmodan Stones, a collection of carved grave slabs from the 14th and 15th centuries, displayed in a small building in the corner of the graveyard of Kilmodan Church (1783).

The surrounding hills beautifully frame the church.

A few miles of road walking return me to the sea at Loch Riddon, enjoying a delightful section surrounded by magnificent gnarled oak trees and moss flowing over the land. What a contrast with the dark regimented rows of Sitka spruce in the commercial forests.

The road ends at Craig Lodge where a path disappears into the dense trees. Other hikers reported this is a difficult section. Annie, the campsite owner, warned it was challenging and not well maintained. The last ferry to Tarbet departs at 17:45 so no time to lose — up we go.

The initial path, steep and overgrown, is eased by wooden steps, before deteriorating into a stream flowing over smooth rocks. The descent is even worse, water cascading over mossy rocks coated with wet leaves. There are sections where the only way to get down safely is on my backside.

Evil rhododendrons swamp the path.

Fallen trees force me to crawl, my backpack too large to stoop beneath the branches.

It’s taken an hour to walk the first mile. Thankfully, the path is much easier by the shore, although a retired bridge forces me to hop across a stream, overconfident and slipping on a rock, plunging both feet into the water. It’s going to be a long day.

A gentle road walk into pretty Tighnabruaich makes up time. I pass the tea shops reluctantly, peering in the windows at tempting cakes.

Turning west, cresting a rise, the hills of Knapdale across Loch Fyne appear on the horizon with the Paps of Jura behind them. Magnificent — my first view of the Inner Hebrides. What adventures lie ahead?

A time capsule sits at a bend in the road, reaching out across generations. How will the world change over 100 years? I’d love to open a capsule from 1924. What were their hopes and fears?

The final section of the Cowal Way loops round Asgog Loch with its tiny ruined castle, most notable for a small tree growing out of the castellations.

Things start to go wrong in the forest as the OS map shows a trail that no longer exists.

Working my way through the trees, I fail to pick up the trail and admit defeat, returning to the forest road.

A rough hand-written sign suggests an alternative route on the Portavadie Loop. Can it be trusted? A dead-end might cause me to miss the last ferry so I take the long way along roads.

Portavadie has a large up-market marina and hotel complex but a tiny population.

I make the ferry with time to spare, sailing across Loch Fyne to Tarbet, the gateway to the Kintyre Peninsula, my next challenge.

There are several places in Scotland called Tarbert — the name comes from the Gaelic for a narrow isthmus of land — here separating Loch Fyne from West Loch Tarbert.

My next two nights are in the luxury of a pod at The Gather. I’m the only person here, as usual, and the owner Phil is very friendly, advising on the best places to eat and drink in the village.

A little friend joins me for a hot shower before walking back into the village for a hot meal and a couple of beers, relaxed in the knowledge that I can enjoy a lie-in tomorrow for my special visit to a local rainforest.

Walk distance: 20 miles.

Total distance: 4,069 miles.