We’re off to our next 2-night stop at Kirkcudbright. I think I’ll refer to this trip as the Silent Letters Tour.
From Moffat, travelling to Fyfe just north of Edinburgh, we visited Culross. The “l” is silent and the “o” is more of an “i”. [Coo-riss]
We’ve just left Culzean where the “z” is siilent and the “ea” is more of an “ai”. [Cuh-lain]
Now we’re heading for Kirkcudbright where most of the letters are silent. [Kir-coo-bree]
En route we called in to a parking area overlooking the bay at Girvan. A friendly chap at the Culzean campsite had told us of Gannets diving into the surf which would make for an interesting sight. We have visited the Gannet colony at Bempton Cliffs but those cliffs are so high that you cannot watch the birds diving. Ailsa Craig is a short distance out from the bay and I imagine that is where the Gannets have their home. Ailsa Craig is also the home of the special kinds of granite – there arse two types – harvested and used to make the finest curling stones.
We waited a while, watching out to sea and munching a breakfast roll, and the occasional Gannet did fly casually by. Some obliged with their spectacular arrow-like dives into the water but in truth they were really too distant to make a decent picture. Either that or the camera operator was not up to the task. From what must have been well over 100 attempts, I got just one that was half-way usable.
We continued around the coast road, eventually passing the newish ferry terminals at Cairnryan and the old ferry terminal at Stranraer. We were a little curious about why the move was deemed necessary; larger ferries, perhaps?
At the end of our journey we made out way into Kirkcudbright, carefully avoiding the town bridge [ignore the satnav] which has a 1.5t weight limit. Our destination was an independent community run campsite halfway up a hill and overlooking the rooftops of Kirkcudbright itself. Francine had made a booking online so we knew which pitch number to head for. She had been mailed confirmation complete with the barrier entry code. Frodo’s spot was on the town side of the site looking directly at the view.
An initial sortie into town took us down a path from the campsite right past the local Tesco store, which proved mostly adequate but unscintillating. Further on across the main road through town was the local Coop which proved even less scintillating. There were, however, some local shops and cafes that were perfectly fine.
Crossing the roads here was terrific; if a car happened to be coming, just wait a while and saunter across. There was never the constant stream of cars that we are used having to avoid – no need for pedestrian crossings or traffic lights in Kirkcudbright. Very refreshing.
At the side of the car park opposite the unscintillating Coop was a sign that tickled our fancy. It seems that Kirkcudbright is home to the “Official UK Wife Carrying Championships”. Ye Gods! Clearly someone in town has got a well developed sense of humour.
After that revelation, I needed a drink.
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