KYQ4: An Argyll Refresher

Clyde Puffer at Crinan Basin

July 31, 2022

Last year at this time, the roads to Argyll were bloated with staycation visitors and people escaping after eighteen months of lockdowns. We had a free Sunday and scanning the forecasts told me that Argyll offered the best of the weather. I had had a morning run so it was 10:30am before we set out with no particular destination in mind other than to go to the Argyll coast.

Despite it being a weekend at the height of the holiday season and the first decent day of the week, the traffic was light. It may have been the price of fuel, the desire of families to seek out warmer holiday destinations or just the pending recession. I turned off at Tyndrum on the Oban road, unusually as I am normally heading towards Fort William and the mountains of Glencoe, Glen Nevis, Knoydart, GlenShiel, Skye and Torridon. I had not used the minor road to the south of Loch Awe for several years, it is a 21-mile slow twisting single-track road through native forest. It took almost an hour with a couple of incidents with an impatient motorcyclist for whom I stopped to allow pass and then an oncoming Porsche driven aggressively by someone who thought he was entitled to have oncoming traffic reverse into a passing place despite being only a few yards past one himself. By the end of the drive we decided to head to the Crinan for some refreshments.

Crinan was quiet with the odd yacht returning after the Tobermory race a couple of weeks earlier. The hotel served mussels and had a canopy to protect us from the lunchtime sun. We pottered around the canal locks and the canal basin built by Thomas Telford. The basin had some large yachts, including Swedish and French yachts and a Puffer that provided some climate denying nostalgia with black smoke issuing from its funnel.

I suggested a drive to Tayvallich on Loch Sween, a place I had often visited at weekends in the 1970s to camp in the forest and sail my dinghy trailing a mackeral line in the hope of supper. Tayvallich had not changed much but the large caravan site and numerous holiday cottages confirmed that its charm had worked on many others. We walked along the front and had a coffee in the cafe by the pier. The proprietor told us that visitor numbers were well down this year, people were travelling abroad for holidays and weekends had been affected by fuel prices.

It was time to head north and we spent some time at Kilmartin in the afternoon sun to visit the prehistoric sites in the Glen including the Nether Largie standing stones and the burial chambers. We headed north and decided to visit the massive yacht marina at Ardfern, which is a reminder that Scotland has many wealthy residents. We went as far as the Galley of Lorne, a busy hotel and restaurant which Aileen had visited on a yacht holiday before returning to walk around the moorings and goggle at the yachts.

A little further south and we were at Loch Melford, the place where we stayed in 1982 for a glorious July week in a cottage by the pier. My parents came along and our two young children, 4 months and 2 years old spent most of the week in a paddling pool and we tried to learn to windsurf. The place was now awash with holiday properties that sullied the intrinsic natural beauty of the estate. I had wanted to stop at the old pier but private property notices prevented this and went against the spirit of the Access Scotland legislation.

We decided to head up to Oban and find somewhere to eat before heading back via Taynuilt. Alas, there had been a major accident and the road was closed so we were redirected via Glencoe. I was not too concerned despite the extra 50 miles, there would be a chance to travel through Glencoe on a perfect evening and, if lucky, find a place to eat at Port Appin. The Pier restaurant was fully booked but we found an outside table for a drink and the manager kindly found a slot to serve us a meal as we gazed out over Loch Linnhe towards Mull. It would be hard to find a better view at this time of day.

The waitress told us that there had been another accident on the Glencoe road, also involving a motorcycle and that this road was also closed. It is a regular occurrence on summer weekends when the bikers emerge in their hundreds to enjoy the outstanding scenery and overtake the snake of motorhomes, lorries, cars and cyclists. We had witnessed 50 or 60 of them in their unzipped leathers at the Green Welly in Tyndrum as we passed through in the morning. Guys who had probably owned a Honda 125cc in the 1980s and were now reliving their youth on a BMW 1250 or similar road weapon. The availability of money and speed are not well synchronised.

I asked the friendly waitress to check the road report as we were about to leave. The road had reopened and we were soon on the road to Ballachulish. It was 8:30pm as we reached Glencoe. The Pap of Glencoe was mesmeric, a hill that punishes me every time I pass. I am always on the way back from a walk and never have the time or energy to climb it. As we entered the mouth of Glencoe, Bidean nam Bian was tantalising with the route up the gulley to Dinnertime Buttress revealing every detail. The traffic was light, and the leather-bound bikers were long gone so we cruised along with no tailbacks just the best of Scotland displaying its wares.