Lennoxtown to Kirkintilloch

Home from Germany and with a free day before going back to work, it was too nice a day to just sit at home. I'm rebuilding my fitness after a bout of Covid and I reckoned half a dozen miles on flat terrain would be a worthy mission. The 7-mile railway path running between Kirkintilloch and Strathblane (via Lennoxtown) had been on my radar for a while. It sits in the shadow of the hills known as the Campsie Fells. There are no convenient transport connections between the towns and I decided to tackle half of the route, walking back to my starting point. Lennoxtown lies roughly in the middle and seemed as good as location as any to begin my outing. It promised to be a picturesque trail.

A branch line from Kirkintilloch to Lennoxtown opened in 1848 and an extension reached Killearn before the funds ran dry. It wasn't until 1882 that the line managed to hook up with the Forth & Clyde Junction Railway that ran between Stirling and Balloch. These country routes were severely hit by the introduction of the motor bus and the Campsie line saw its last passenger train in 1951. Freight traffic chuntered on as far as Lennoxtown until 1964 and the remaining tracks were lifted shortly thereafter. I arrived in Lennoxtown - which lies within the historic boundaries of Stirlingshire - and found a parking spot close to the site of the old station and goods yard. I had to skirt a football pitch to reach the footpath and I noticed a sign commemorating Campsie Black Watch FC, who were one of the leading juvenile sides in Scotland until giving up the ghost in 2017. Apparently the team was run by one man (Gerry Marley) for 60 years before he became disillusioned by the lack of commitment shown by the players. I decided to follow the trackbed to Kirkintilloch as this leg was half a mile shorter than taking the route in the opposite direction. There didn't seem to be much left of Lennoxtown Station but I found a strange relic within an overgrown walled compound on the edge of town. A trig-point style pillar stood within a circular enclosure bounded by a low stone wall. The only guess I could come up with was the possibility I was looking at the remains of an old ornamental fountain. The path took me through a quiet agricultural landscape and I caught several glimpses of the southern extent of the Campsie Fells range. After a couple of miles I encountered Milton of Campsie Station. Two lengthy platforms are extant and an old-style name board has been affixed to the road overbridge. Passing through the arch, I found further stretches of platform with well-tended flower beds, bench seats, canine sculptures and information boards. Signs pointed to an adjacent coffee shop. This seems to be a popular rest area for walkers and the railway path forms part of the famous John Muir Way - a coast-to-coast trail from Dunbar to Helensburgh that covers 134 miles. No train has called at Milton Campsie for over 70 years, with one notable exception. "Billy" was installed in 2017 as a tribute to a deceased local councillor. A metal artwork incorporating seating, young kids no doubt enjoy clambering all over him. It's heart warming to see a derelict station being transformed in this manner.

I pushed on and passed by the rump of an abandoned stone viaduct that had obviously carried a railway above the one I was walking upon. I consulted the old maps and discovered the Kelvin Valley line from Kilsyth to Glasgow had crossed over the Campsie route. This railway had also fallen victim to post-war rationalisation Frustratingly, there was no obvious way to explore the top of this unfenced viaduct as the Glazert Water blocked the way towards the other end. I soon crossed over the River Kelvin which forms the boundary between Stirlingshire and Dunbartonshire around these parts. My walk came to an end 400 yards later on the edge of Kirkintilloch as the railway path met the A803. From here, urban development had taken over and the town centre was half a mile away along the pavement. I decided to turn around as I'd already twice visited the High Street when I was following the Forth & Clyde Canal. Beyond the site of the now-demolished Kirkintilloch Station, the railway formed part of a unique bridge where canal barges intersected with trains while the Luggie Water flowed below. The tracks then joined today's main Edinburgh-Glasgow corridor at the adjoining town of Lenzie. Kirkintilloch may have lost its station but at least a rail connection remains within comfortable walking distance. Many towns suffered a far worse fate in this respect. I was acutely aware of the uphill gradient on the the return trek. I think the after effects of Covid were still lingering in my bones and - coupled with travelling to Berlin airport in the middle of the night just 36 hours ago - fatigue was gaining the upper hand. But the only way to regain full walking fitness is to get out there and walk! It had been a pleasant and - as ever - educational wander.

Lennoxtown eventually hove into view and today was not the first time I had explored an aspect of the town's history. The infamous asylum at Lennoxtown Castle continues to crumble away on the western outskirts and I had sought out this location the previous year. The castle functioned as an admin block and staff quarters and is now in a precarious condition following repeated vandalism and arson. The institution shut its doors in 2002 and we now live in a completely different era regarding care of mental illness. I reached the car and drove home for a well-earned rest. Another railway path ticked off the list and I'll hopefully do the second half within a week or two. I recently ordered a book showing all the Scottish lines and stations from 1920, set against todays transport map. Brief notes are given about each closed station and there is a handy chapter dedicated to routes converted to modern walking and cycling arteries. Entitled Scottish Railway Atlas then and now, by Paul Smith & Paul Jordan, it can be found online for £15.

Germany at last!

Back in early 2020 we had flights booked to Berlin for Easter. Then a little bug named Corona poked its antennae above the horizon and all bets were declared off. Two years down the line and we were finally set for a return to the Fatherland. Nicole had cancelled two further trips scheduled during the pandemic after virus variants reared their ugly heads. Having not seen her family in Brandenburg for a total of three years and the restrictions finally disappearing, surely it would be a case of third time lucky? Nice in theory, but it didn't quite run so smoothly. Nicole was due to fly out a few days before I finished up at work and the plan was for me head over the following week. The day before her departure, I tested positive and had to self isolate. Nicole remained at home as she didn't want to risk infecting her mother and indeed came down with symptoms a couple of days later. All was not lost however. In due course the illness abated and our negative test results enabled us to leave the house and jump on a plane for a reduced break, but a welcome one nonetheless.

We had an early departure and took the Edinburgh Airport bus from Inverkeithing park & ride at 3am. The service runs through the night and a surprisingly large group of people were awaiting its arrival. I always like to build in a decent safety margin regarding flight departures. Far better to be sitting around at the airport for a couple of hours rather than worry whether your local transport connection will arrive in time. I'm quite happy to plonk myself down in the lounge and read for a while. It's certainly useful having a public transport airport link almost on our doorstep. The days of hunting around for a parking package are now a distant memory. Much cheaper by bus too! We grabbed a sandwich in the terminal and were soon on our way to Berlin. The one-hour time difference meant we touched down around 9.30am and we finally got to see the spanking new Berlin-Brandenburg (BER) facility. It had been a long time in the making. The vast capital city is now a major international tourist destination but for years had been served by crumbling airports from a bygone age - Tegel, Tempelhof (closed 2008) and Schönefeld. BER occupies a site very close to the latter and is now up and running after a delay of a decade. The slow progress became a standing joke in the German media and was certainly at odds with their reputation of efficiency in all matters engineering. We emerged in Terminal 2 - dedicated to low-cost carriers such as Ryanair and Easyjet - but it was just a short walk to the main building. A main railway line runs below and we descended the escalator and stepped on to the platform. All very painless so far. We were bound for the main central station (Hauptbahnhof) and from there we could catch a train to Angermünde - the closest town to Nicole's family. As we were travelling within the Berlin-Brandenburg zone, the single fare was €10.70, which I though was very reasonable. I did become slightly annoyed at the insistence of the ticket machine that I enter two identical sets of journey details (including date) before paying, rather than supply the information once and hit a +1 button to bump up the number of passengers. Seemed finicky to me. Never mind, we were soon rolling at speed through the Kingdom of Prussia.

The Hauptbahnhof was completed in 2006 and is located a short stroll away from the German parliament (Reichstag). One of the consequences of Berlin being divided into separate political zones for several decades after the war was the lack of city-wide transport hubs befitting of the modern age. These issues have now largely been addressed although I did read that proposals to extend the underground to the airport have hit the skids due to the tracks crossing the federal border between Berlin and Brandenburg. This has triggered a dispute over funding. Some heads need bashing together methinks. The Hauptbahnhof is an impressive building on three levels with a multitude of shops and places to eat. We had a couple of hours to pass until we were due to travel onwards to Angermünde and what does one do when looking to while away some time in the German capital? Visit a historic military cemetery of course! The station's northern entrance leads to Invalidenstraße and we followed this road for a few hundred yards before joining a canal towpath. A similar distance again brought us to Invalidenfriedhoff - the traditional resting place of high-ranking Prussian army officers. Nicole opted to sit on a bench outside while I had a wander around. She remarked that she probably wasn't the first wife of a Brit or American to have been dragged along here. Established in 1748 by King Frederick the Great, the cemetery contains the grand tomb of Napoleonic War hero Gerhard von Scharnhorst. It is topped by a sculpture of a slumbering lion cast from a captured enemy cannon. Other notable graves are those of WW1 commanders Max Hoffmann and Helmuth von Moltke. The Berlin Wall ran alongside the cemetery and around a third of the graveyard became lost beneath the security infrastructure. Since German reunification, Invalidenfriedhoff has been designated as a protected monument and many Berliners pass through on foot or bicycle. As we headed back to the station, I noticed an information board with details about the Invalidenstraße checkpoint during the days of the Cold War. A major escape attempt was foiled here in 1963. Eight young men and women tried to ram their way through the barriers on a bus. The vehicle came under heavy fire and failed to make it past the narrow opening in the wall. The occupants were then arrested, some of them suffering from gunshot wounds. Grim stuff! A stark reminder that peace in Europe is never guaranteed was provided by the many Ukrainian flags prominently displayed. The grand former railway terminus Hamburger Bahnhof (pictured at top) was bedecked in blue and yellow. The neoclassical building later became a transport museum and now functions as an art gallery.

Before boarding our train, we purchased some takeaway food and two bottles of Mezzo Mix. This curious beverage is only produced in the German-speaking nations and is a combination of Coca-Cola and Fanta orange. Having first appeared in 1973, it obviously attracts sufficient sales for the Coca-Cola Company to keep making the stuff. Of course the main station is one of the most expensive places to buy a soft drink but it has been a long-standing tradition for us to board the train with a Mezzo Mix in hand. Germany has a widespread deposit system for glass and plastic bottles of all shapes and sizes. The Scottish government has occasionally made noises about introducing such a scheme but we are no further forward. I reckon I could rake in a few quid at work as many schoolkids would no doubt continue to discard plastic bottles without further thought - for a while at least. The run out out to Angermünde took approximately one hour and we were made by the elder of Nicole's two younger brothers. David and his wife Nicol occupy the top floor of the Bertermann family home, with my mother-in-law Bärbel living below. It is fairly common in Germany for different generations to share one property - particularly outside of the large cities. Nicole's dad Burghardt sadly passed away ten years ago. Her nephews Jonas (12) and Elias (8) greeted us enthusiastically as we arrived in the village of Schönermark. Nicole hadn't actually told her mum that we had rebooked our flights and naturally a lot of hugging ensued. As a Scottish man, I've learned to roll with that. The weekend turned out to be a damp squib weather-wise but Nicole's other brother Maik appeared with his daughter Michelle (10) and partner Jenny. We did a shopping trip for the week ahead and picked up a Döner for lunch - which is the main meal of the day over there. What we know as dinner/tea is called Abendbrot and usually involves fetching a few slices of bread along with cold meats, cheese etc from the fridge. Sometimes leftovers from midday are consumed. The German kebab is a popular mainstream takeaway dish as opposed to the post-pub reputation it has in the UK. The bread is chunkier and you are offered a full selection of salad and a choice of several sauces. As they say, ein Döner macht schöner! I am the living proof!

On a warm Monday we borrowed a car from Nicole's Aunt Gundula (known as Gundi) and drove to a local nature reserve called Blumberger Mühle. Elias came along for the ride. Run by the conservation group NABU, the reserve has a visitors centre (built in the shape of a tree stump) with an exhibition, café, shop and toilets. The protected grounds include a 2000 square metre swamp inhabited by a dozen European pond turtles. The species is threatened and it's nice to know they can relax in a secure environment here. I managed to photograph a couple sitting on a fallen trunk. A wooden lookout tower in the far corner of the compound gives an overview of the surrounding landscape. This part of Brandenburg is known as the Uckermark and the largely flat terrain is dotted with numerous lakes of varying size. Indeed, the reserve itself is bounded by a body of water but the birdlife proved unremarkable today as I scanned with my binoculars. The boggy sections of moorland on the reserve are a haven for frogs and toads. Other areas of interest are the herb garden, livestock enclosures and woodlands. The highlight of the day came towards the end but first it's necessary to backtrack a few years. On a previous visit, we were informed at the reception of the presence of a Beutelmeise - known in English as the penduline tit. Sounds pretty cool, we thought, without really knowing what to expect. Our knowledge of birds at the time was rather limited. What we saw was truly impressive - even for non ornithologists like our erstwhile selves. The Beutelmeise builds deep pouch-shaped nests on the borders of marshland and woodland, often near water. Basically, the bird's home resembles a bag hanging from a tree. Moreover, we actually observed it sitting in the nest. Surely lightning couldn't strike twice? The first walk-by revealed an elaborate fluffy bag dangling from a branch but no bird inside or in the vicinity. An impressive sight nonetheless. We completed our circuit of the reserve and enjoyed a snack in the café. Elias expressed a desire to explore the adventure playground and I supervised while Nicole wandered back to the Beutelmeise site. Her intuition was spot on and I received a text telling to to come over. I signalled to Elias to follow and we soon arrived back at the swaying nest. This time the tits were buzzing around and I crouched down to find an angle to point my camera right at the Beutel (German for bag). Sure enough, a bird approached the nest and popped inside. Click went my shutter and I obtained a pretty natty shot. A successful day's spotting!

I've been going to the Uckermark since 2005 but have only seriously explored on foot for the last couple of years. This pretty much mirrors my movements in Scotland - the odd walk here and there but not a main interest until more recent times. You would have to be blind not to spot the cranes that stand in the fields out here but I must admit most sightings came from the comfort of a car for many years. Many walking routes exist in the Uckermark - from modern signed trails to old rights of way - but it's not a hobby pursued enthusiastically by locals. It's certainly not uncommon to wander a few miles and not encounter a soul. An 18km circular route known as the Heidenweg comes within a couple of miles of Schönermark and I planned to hook up with this trail at a historic mill (Ziethener Mühle) and walk as far as the village of Greiffenberg - six miles in total. From there, a bus would bring me back to Schönermark. As you would expect, public transport connections are sparse in the rural parts and I calculated my departure time to tie in with a return service. A quiet track known as the Mühlenweg led between the green fields and I spotted several cranes in the distance. Long of leg and neck, cranes are related to the ubiquitous heron and live on a mixed diet of seeds, roots, insects, snails and worms. Only small populations exist in the UK and despite being more numerous on the continent, figures have declined over the decades due to disturbance, shooting and drainage schemes. I reached the ruined mill on the River Welse after half an hour and took a photograph from the perimeter fence. The building is a reconstruction of a previous mill that was lost during the destructive 30 years war (1618 to 1648) within the Holy Roman Empire. Today, the once-grand building is crumbling away, although there are modern private apartments in an adjacent block. My planned route to Greiffenberg involved a crossing of the Poland-bound railway and I assumed foot crossing or underpass would take me to the other side. However, this proved not to be the case and I encountered the bare rails. Unlike the UK, the line here is not flanked by high security fencing and I could easily have skipped across. But I highly doubted this was permitted and, besides, the path on the other side looked very faint. Perhaps a technical right of way that appeared on maps but wasn't actively used? I decided I wasn't going to risk getting myself into trouble for trespass and turned back towards the mill.

I therefore abandoned my Greiffenberg quest and hastily devised an alternative walk. Instead of cutting across a corner of the Heidenweg I would follow the official path to Breitenteicher Mühle on the Welse and then head back to Schönermark. Off I set along a quiet single-track road leading to the village of Frauenhagen. I had walked this way a couple of years ago but had continued onwards to the centre of Frauenhagen rather than branch off to the second mill on the Heidenweg. I merged on to what we would call a farm track and encountered a couple of cats as I approached Breitenteicher Mühle. The walking trail swerves around the mill complex, which is now functions as a venue for various residential courses. The building is a scheduled monument and was restored using appropriate materials. Local vegetarian and vegan cuisine can be provided and camping is also available within the grounds. I wandered up to the main gates then retraced my steps. The temperature was rising and this was my first major outing on foot since contracting Covid. I didn't have a nasty case and shook off the symptoms within a few days, but I'm sure some energy was sapped along the way. Time to head back for a meal and a lie down. Nicole and I went on another nature-themed outing to Unteres Odertal - the only wetlands national park in the whole of Germany. Stretching across the River Oder - which forms the border with Poland - the park occupies a floodplain and large areas of polder are regularly underwater. This type of landscape is now rare in Europe and measures were taken following German reunification in 1990 to preserve the habitat. The visitor centre is located in the village of Criewen and houses an exhibition and toilet facilities. We consulted the maps to determine our route and made our way over a canal towards the park. A cycleway atop an embankment offered a vantage point from which to scan the polder land. We planned descend on to the floodplain itself and take a path labelled Auenweg - which loosely translates as water meadow way. And then it happened! They say that a long wait for a bus often results in three turning up at once but rarely does the argument apply to birds. First of all, we picked out a white stork sitting in the long grass. A rare visitor to the UK, storks can be observed throughout this part of Germany and a pair arrive in Schönermark every year. These languid flyers have a wing span up to seven feet in length.

I crept closer for a photo although the bird didn't seem too perturbed by my encroachment. Just as I returned to the walkway, another stork flew overhead. Through my binoculars I could see a black hue and this was borne out by a hastily snapped picture. Unlike the closely related white variety, the black stork is a shy and wary species. It is seen singly or in pairs, usually in marshy areas, rivers or inland waters. Two for the price of one! Not to be outdone, the white tailed eagle decided to get in on the act and soared above us in circles of ever changing diameter. The largest UK bird of prey, the population back home became extinct in the 20th century but was successfully reintroduced. One can only hope they are doing better on mainland Europe. It was only possible to progress partly along the Auenweg due to the going becoming increasingly marshy. It probably doesn't fully dry out until summer arrives. This is living, breathing nature after all. In the middle distance we spotted a group of great white egrets. Indeed, we had seen them from the car the other day when crossing the Polish border for petrol with David and Nicol. Not common at all in Britain, they seem to be ten a penny around here. I certainly wasn't complaining. We walked back to the car and somehow managed to avoid the lovely ice cream bar in the centre of the village. Not that calorie consumption had anything to do with this decision. Instead, we made a beeline for the nearby town of Schwedt where the Italian Café Florenz in located. We must have been here on every previous trip and the elaborate sundaes are a sight to behold. Schwedt is a historic town with a new-build feel about the place, due to destruction wreaked at the tail end of the war. The Oder Centre hosts many shops and I always love having a browse around here, although I was sad to see the book shop had closed its doors. I bought a strip of stamps for postcards and we had lunch at an Asian fast food place.

Another aspect of being forbidden to travel abroad for so long was not being able to meet the new cats! I would love to say that Findus and Tara (pictured) leapt upon us with gay abandon but in truth we were initially viewed with suspicion, bordering on disdain. Perhaps we were spoiled at home, having the recently departed Witchy greeting us with large dollops of affection over the last 15 years. The frostiness exhibited by Findus & Tara did start to thaw after a few days and it appears they decided "yeah, they're alright" and began to approach us. Findus much more so than Tara, who is naturally timid. We spent a relaxing final couple of days in Schönermark and naturally the outdoor grill was fired up for a mega platter of wurst, chicken and steaks. They even grill cheese over here! We also smeared dough on the end of a long stick and baked it over the fire - another family favourite. Our flight to Scotland was scheduled for 6.20am which meant travelling to Berlin in the middle of the night. David and Nicol drove us to an S-Bahn station just outside the city and from there we made our way to the airport. I dozed on the plane we took the bus from Edinburgh Airport back to the park & ride at Inverkeithing. Home well before lunchtime. Bed beckoned.

Johnstone to Glengarnock

After completing my exploration of the old Paisley Canal line as far as Johnstone, the next leg of this railway walk would take me into Ayrshire and 11 miles lay ahead of me. The end point was Glengarnock station which lies on the existing route between Glasgow, Johnstone and Ayr. I had a punishing schedule but there was the convenience of being able to jump on a train to return to my starting point. Glorious weather was forecast and I knew there were a few historical highlights along the way. I took the first bus on a Sunday morning from Cairneyhill to Glasgow, made my way to the Central Station and purchased an off-peak return to Glengarnock (actually cheaper than a standard single). Of course I would be jumping off early at Johnstone on the outward leg. I covered the history of the Renfrewshire town in my previous report and will now proceed straight to the walk.

I joined the tarmac footpath near a supermarket on the edge of Johnstone. A station called Johnstone North was formerly situated around here and the line southwards was known as the Lochwinnoch Loop, hugging the western shores of Castle Semple Loch and Barr Loch. A parallel route (today's main line) proceeded down the opposite side of the water and the two sets of tracks met near Glengarnock village. The Loop Line closed in 1966 along with Lochwinnoch Station. The village had also been served by Lochside Station on the other route. This halt had closed in 1955 but was brought back into service following the demise of the Loop Line. It was renamed Lochwinnoch in 1985 and remains so today. In one respect, you can see the logic in shearing off one half of a duplicate system but the cuts ran deeper than that. Johnstone North also connected with a line to Greenock via Bridge of Weir and Kilmacolm. This section is fully walkable today and is next on my list. After dog-legging over the modern A737, I soon left Johnstone behind and entered a pleasant area of rolling countryside. At times I would disappear into long stretches of cutting and after one such episode, I emerged to find a curious structure standing atop the adjacent Kenmure Hill. The maps designated the building as a "temple" but it was obviously some kind of folly. A photograph proved impossible due to the sun shining blindingly into my face when I faced the hill. It appears little is known about the temple. One strand of local folklore insists the octagonal structure was a place of worship for the landowner’s servants or his foreign wife. Other tales claim it was a nursery for a sick child, or a watchtower for ladies to attend to their embroidery while the men hunted below on horseback. Records show the building was constructed around 1760 for Colonel William McDowell, a wealthy merchant who made his fortune in the West Indies. Originally, there were avenues of trees on the hill - a common feature for summer houses of that era. The very fact so much mystery surrounds the temple alludes to the idea it may actually have been a Masonic venue where secret handshakes were performed. In 1830, a lightning strike and subsequent fire damaged the roof but the shell remained in sound condition which is testament to the build quality. An intriguing bunch of theories and there was a gate and path leading off the railway. If I hadn't been on a relatively tight schedule, I may well have taken a wander up.

It didn't take long to reach the boundary of Castle Semple Estate. I noticed how the approach viaduct was ornately capped with crenellated parapets and I wondered if the landowner had demanded the fancy architecture as a condition of routing the line through his land. The original mansion house was destroyed by fire in 1924 and demolished in the early 60s. Apparently the outbuildings have now been converted into private apartments. Clyde Muirsheil Regional Park now administers Castle Semple as part of a wider recreational area spanning three local authorities. Castle Semple Loch is a mile and half long and is used for watersports. An RSPB reserve lies at the southern end and we visited a matter of weeks ago. Just beyond the viaduct stood the remains of a 16th-century collegiate church. The late Gothic place of worship is protected by Historic Environment Scotland but a gate in the surrounding wooden fence permits access. The oblong church is roofless and I went inside to take a photograph of the tombs. The church fell out of use after the Reformation of 1560 and was this spared any future architectural additions. Built in 1504 at the behest of Lord Semple, its function was to house a college of clergy whose main role in life was to pray for the souls of the Lord and his family. Semple was killed at the Battle of Flodden in 1513 when James IV made the disastrous decision to invade England. I have paid a visit to the battlefield just across the border and a series of storyboards are mounted on a viewpoint. James himself was a casualty and he remains the last British monarch to fall in combat. In the immediate aftermath of the conflict, the church was extended eastwards to form a three sided apse and a highly decorated tomb was installed in the north wall of the extension as Lord Semple's final resting place. Collegiate churches across Scotland ceased to be used for their original purpose after the Reformation and it was very interesting to have seen an intact example.

Another landmark I'd spotted on the map before setting out was the ice cave. This was just a short walk from the church and I also discovered ancient gardening features from the old estate. In the days before electric refrigeration, ice was stored in stone-lined subterranean chambers. That fact is well known but what on earth was an ice cave? An aperture was cut into the rock and barred by a metal gate. The cave was apparently artificial but may actually have been used to store ice, according to the information boards. Castle Semple has a rare surviving example of a landscape garden feature - the cascade. Water installations were de rigueur on the 18th-century private estates and owner William McDowell commissioned a series of rectangular ponds linked by ornamental cascades. A weir was created to feed the ponds and the flow of water over the stone cascades was controlled by sluice gates. The outflow was channelled under the mansion house and into the loch. Clever stuff! The path stuck faithfully to the railway most of the way but a deviation across a public park was required as I approached Lochwinnoch. I picked up the trackbed again on a high embankment as I left the village and once again headed into the countryside. I could see Loch Barr which was once joined to Castle Temple Loch and the whole stretch known simply as Loch Winnoch. Silt from the River Calder created a land bridge and the two bodies of water are now distinct. Barr Castle stands on a ridge in a field and I searched for a spot where I could take a photo unimpeded by bushes and trees. Now a ruin, this late medieval tower house was built on a simple rectangular plan and rose to four storeys. The wings have collapsed and little remains of the courtyard and curtain wall. A nice landmark in a prominent position overlooking the loch. I pushed on and entered Ayrshire by crossing the Maich Water. It's never North Ayrshire by the way, that term refers purely to a Council Area, not a traditional subdivision.

My legs were beginning to tire as I trudged along the well maintained path, passing below an impressive viaduct carrying the A760 over the line. I estimated I would just miss the hourly train service back to Glasgow but that suited me fine as I planned to eat at the Old Clock Café next to Glengarnock Station. I had refrained from bringing food in my rucksack as I wanted to work up an appetite. At least, that was the theory. I skirted the town of Kilbirnie, ignoring signs for the town centre and the usual amenities, carrying on instead until the end of the path which ended at Glengarnock, although the old railway junction was to the south of the village. It was a blow to discover the Clock Café closed. I had been fantasising about the recuperative powers of a fry-up as I grew ever wearier. To add insult, there was no convenience store in Glengarnock where I could grab a bite. Just a newsagents that had closed at lunchtime. My only option was to sit on the platform and watch the non-stopping trains hurtle by until a service arrived to whisk me back to the city for a belated meal. Amazingly, Glengarnock station dates right back to 1840 when the line to Ayr opened for business. I had assumed my tired state was the result of walking double-digit miles but I think something else was brewing as I tested positive for Covid the following day. Well that was my forthcoming trip to Germany wiped out, I thought. As it turned it, Nicole (who also came down with the virus) was able to book flights a week further down the line, thereby cutting the holiday in half, but much preferable to staying at home.