Day 5 - Trump & Portpatrick

Turnberry Castle

Today we have planned our most ambitious road trip of the vacation. We will first stop at the ruins of Turnberry Castle. To get there we will have to traverse Mr. Trump's Turnberry Golf Course. This, of course, has Cissy's Trump meter on "over the moon".

The roots of Turnberry Castle are lost in antiquity. Originally a stronghold of the Lords of Galloway, it passed into the possession of the Earls of Carrick around the beginning of the 13^th century. On the death of the count, it passed to his widow Marjorie. According to medieval legend, Marjorie held the visiting knight Robert de Brus captive until he agreed to marry her. They did so in 1271 which conveyed to him both the castle and the earldom. Their first son went on to become Robert the Bruce, the King of Scots. And that is why we are here.

From the parking lot, the walk is 0.6 miles through heather, juniper, bracken and blackberry bushes. We stopped often to partake of the blackberries which were just coming into ripeness (a good excuse to rest). We noticed a large monument to our north. It is the Turnberry War Memorial, a double Celtic Cross erected by the people of Kirkoswald Parish in 1923 to honor those airmen stationed at Turnberry Air Field who died during the First World War.

Turnberry Point Lighthouse

Alongside of Turnberry Castle is the Turnberry Point Lighthouse. Completed in 1873, the lighthouse stands 79 feet overlooking the Irish Sea. We were also delighted to find a that the lighthouse sported a restaurant. However, being too late for breakfast and too early for lunch, we satisfied ourselves with some diet cokes as we sat on the veranda looking out over the Irish Sea. And, while Scots in generally are not big fans of Mr. Trump, we found three ardent fans. They were three of about 450 people on his payroll!

From our vantage point, we could see two islands of note. Arran Isle is the largest island in the Firth of Clyde. For many years it has been a favorite of day hikers as well as the subjects of one of Alex's songs. Just south of Arran is Aisla Craig. While is is known for many things, it is best known for one thing - it is the only source for the microgranite used to make curling stones.

We made our way back to the car, stopping for the occasional blackberry, and headed on down the way, Our trip south took us on the A77 through the town of Girvan where we planned a brief stop at the Asda. For those not familiar, Asda is the British equivalent of, and I think owned by, Walmart. We needed to pick up a few odds and ends and I needed a bottle of 500mg Vitamin C (remember the cough?).

From Girvan, the A77 hugs the west coast and reminded me of parts of my West Coast Road Trip with my friend Allen Green just before the Covid. The water is a beautiful blue and the rocks are rugged. Some 200 million years ago the Scottish Highlands were connected to the American Appalachian chain at Nova Scotia during the Age of Pangea. Though we are far from the Highlands, it is possible that we are no less in the foothills of the Mega Appalachian range.

We finally came to the small town of Stranrear, on the banks of Loch Ryan, and here we planned to lunch. We had picked up an establishment, The Thistle Inn, that sounded very Scottish and very quaint. I must say it was both...and it was also Closed! Our next selection was Closed. We found a bar across the street that served no food, but he gave us directions to Papa Rab's just a few blocks over. And they were Closed!

But on the side were some steps leading down to the take-away. It lead to an empty kitchen but before I could say "Rab's your Papa" a large gentleman walked in. I explained that we were desperately seeking a sit down lunch. With but a brief hesitation, he offered to provide us with such and took us to a table in the restaurant. We ordered a Margarita pizza and drinks and expressed our luck to find such a kind proprietor to open his establishment for us. We finished off a most excellent large pizza, paid the £12.80 with a £20 note. I would have paid more, but their credit card sales wouldn't allow for a tip and I had very limited cash funds.

Portpatrick

From there it was a short drive to the lovely port city of Portpatrick. (Where of course we found a sea-food restaurant right on the bay.)

Portpatrick is a holiday resort town on the western shore of the Rhins of Galloway peninsula. It is a pretty town of pastel-colored houses, set around a small bay with cliffs forming the backdrop. It was formerly a port for transportation to and from Northern Ireland. We spent a good hour walking around the small bay. At the end of the pier is a small lighthouse, built around 1772.

We spent much of our time here sitting on the benches and soaking in the lovely weather - high 60s with blue sky and wispy clouds. Except for the night of the Tattoo, this had been the weather of the day. Not like the Scotland I remember.

The Torhouse Stone Circle

Our next stop was a few miles to the east - the Torhouse Stone Circle. Built in the Neolithic Period, the circle is comprised of 19 granite boulders, the largest of which is over a meter high. They are arranged in a 22 foot diameter circle sitting on a slightly raised table. Three of the stones sit in a line at the center aligned from northeast to southwest. Folklore has it that the three large stones in the center of the circle contained the tomb of Galdus, a mythical Scottish king. It is said the King Galdus fought off the Roman invaders and it is for him that Galloway is named after.

We also spotted three stones that stood to the east. I have not been able to find any explanations for them.



When we left the cottage, this would be our most ambitious day trip. Our last stop at Torhouse left us with a 2 hour return drive through the Galloway Hills. Though the drive was, as always, lovely, we were glad to be back at Oak Cottage where we made meals on whatever grub we had available.