Savouring the smell of history below the walls of Greenan Castle

 It was getting dark as we approached the...

...dark walls of Greenan Castle...

...which seemed to grow out of the...

  ...rock upon which it has stood for centuries.

 We drifted in the shade of the castle walls for a while, savouring the smell of history*...

 ...before heading back to the present, across the darkening waters of the bay...

...towards the twinkling lights of Ayr beyond.

*maybe it was just rotting seaweed!

Don't look round...

The winter can offer opportunities for taking a break that would not be considered in summer. This beautiful, apparently lonely, bay...

 ...lies just E of the Heads of Ayr. Normally we paddle past about 1km offshore as there is an extremely large caravan site situated...

...just behind the dunes.

 So we stood with our backs to the serried ranks of closed caravans and...

 ...instead watched the fishing fleet return to their berths at Troon.

Paddling under cliffs of sandstone and basalt.

As Phil and I paddled north past the cliffs of Carlandcheek...

...it was spring HW and we were able to make our way close under the sandstone cliffs, where the Lagg Burn tumbles from its ravine into the sea.

 There was just enough room to land and stretch...

...our legs at the base of the cliffs before continuing...

... under the basalt ridges of Bower Hill and...

...the Heads of Ayr.

Enlightenment at Dunure.

Once again, Dunure provided a perfect haven to stop for...

 ...a luncheon which we took on the rocks overlooking the harbour. Afterwards we made our way to the pub, where we were detained somewhat longer than we had intended.

Our sojourn in the pub was time well spent. When we finally emerged and started paddling again the low winter sun was illuminating the underside of the clouds, it was a wonderful sight.

It was now time to press on to Ayr again past...

 ...the beautiful Carrick coastline.

Freedom and marbled skies over the Firth of Clyde.

 It was a bitterly cold day and we crunched our way through ice at the top of the beach.

 The sun rose as we passed the mouth of the River Doon.

 There was just a hint of an easterly breeze as we made our way...

 ...past the Heads of Ayr...

...which lie about 5km south west of Seafield.

It was a spring low tide and we got some extra exercise. It was a long walk up the beach at Bracken Bay to the old tree trunk, which is our favoured seat for first luncheon. This beach catches surf from the south west and it can be difficult landing here when the tide is higher. Unfortunately I was not looking where I was going and slipped on one of the slimy green rocks. My inattention led to a further painful dislocation of my knee, ouch!

 Setting off south again, the dull grey clouds slowly transformed into...

..the most amazing marbled sky. As the wind caught our sails, we experienced an incredible feeling of freedom. It took the ache away from my knee!

A medical emergency and moonlight landing at Port Carrick.

When we approached the roosting gulls on Carnage Corner south of Dunure it was pretty obvious that it would be dark by the time we got to Maidens. So we made a decision to cut across the 7km wide mouth of Culzean Bay direct to  Barwin Point. This was to prove to be a major navigational error.

By the time we were only a third of the way across, each of us was struck by a simultaneous medical emergency. Being gentlemen of a certain age, it became very difficult to maintain control over our bladders. There was a pressing need to land so we pushed on across the bay at high speed (so no distracting photos) and landed at Port Carrick, just before Barwhin Point. Never have three kayakers (in their sixth and seventh decades) exited cramped cockpits so quickly. Relief beyond belief as they say.

It was now a pleasure to set off on a relaxed paddle round Barwhin Point in the silvery moonlight.

On the southern horizon we could just see the dark outline of Turnberry Point below the steady and reassuring...

 flash of Turnberry lighthouse.

High above through a gap in the clouds we could see a trans Atlantic jut flying so high that for it, the sun had not yet set.

We landed on a deserted beach at Maidens. The only sign of life was the the distant flash of Holy Island Outer Lighthouse on the horizon to the north west.

All's well that ends dry!

Another interlude at Dunure...

 When we arrived at Dunure it was high water and...

 ...we made our way round the almost empty harbour...

...to the pub where fortunately the Guinness tank was far from empty (when we arrived).

 Whoops the tide has gone out awfully quickly!

 It was still along way to Maidens so it was time to paddle on.

 To the west, the air was so clear that we could see fields and even houses but we were heading south...

...past the walls of Dunure Castle and on towards Ailsa Craig.