Tarbert & Muasdale

Tarbert & Muasdale

Betsy was all packed up when I got up this morning. Before we set off I went for a plod around camp. I was dry but there were puddles everywhere from the rain last night. Betsy woke up and we were back on the road. Betsy took her time going down the road. We trundled through Campbelltown and into the countryside. Onwards and onwards with the coast on our left we travelled north. We passed Kennacraig where we got the ferry to Islay last year and continued in to Tarbert. Betsy pulled in for a rest and we got out. Tarbert is a pretty little port with craft shops, hotels, cafes and bars. First, we explored the pier, I love the smell of lobster pots.
poppy the westie in Tarbert Harbour
Mum wanted to look in some shops, I didn’t mind because I was allowed in. At the end of the main street was a staircase, I love steps, can we go up?
poppysocks on stairs to Tarbert castle
The steps went up and up, the ended at a kissing gate. Poppys know how to get past kissing gates so into the field I went. Mum and dad caught up with me and for no reason dad put on my leash. Why dad? I then smelled sheeps. The field went up the hill to the castle where Robert the Bruce once lived.
poppy the westie at tarbert castle
At the top we plodded about, I like it here lots of smells and rocks to climb on, what I don’t like is nasty leash
poppysocks at tarbert castle
We headed back down to the kissing gate there dad let me loose again. Down the steps we went. Its dinner time and mum had a reservation in the Anchorage Bistro. It was nice in here. The best bit was no sooner than the waiter gave me water dad gave me scallops….YUM! After dinner mum went back to a shop to buy crafts. I just don’t get crafts. You can’t eat them and they are no fun to play with. Mums phone rang. It was Granpa telling her the Rangers game had been moved forward 2 hours. Beter get back to Betsy. Betsy retraced her steps to a place called Muasdale where she pulled over, this was to be home for the next few nights.
poppy the westie at Muasdale campsite
No sooner than camp was set mum got another message the football was moved back 2 hours! A big green machine drove past it was very loud. What’s that mum? “It’s just a tractor”. Mmmm OK Time to explore. We played ball on the beach. Mum wanted to go this way because she wanted to go into the village store. The beach was a mixture of sand pebbles and seaweed. Lots of smells, lots and lots and lots of them. We passed a boat on the shore even more smells. The tractor went past again.
poppysocks on Muasdale beach
The game of ball came to a halt because mum and dad were getting too slow stopping me putting it in the sea or because the beach came to an end at a burn called Clachaig Water. I wouldn’t drop in there mum. To get to the shop we had to go through some jaggy grass as the tractor went by again, waste of time shop was shut. Back to beach.
poppy the westie at Muasdale beach
This time we would explore the rest of the beach. Off we plodded, mmm new smell, “No Poppy” said dad “Away from the dead seagull”…Auw DAaAd. Passing Betsy the south part of the beach was more rocky, pathfinder poppy to the rescue. Is that that tractor again?
pathfinder poppysocks Muasdale
We clambered to the end until we could go no further I wanted to climb on the rocks, poppys love climbing but we had to go back to Betsy to watch the football as the tractor went by again.
poppysocks on rocks at Muasdale
While mum and dad watched the football I guarded Betsy, there are other dogs In the camp. The tractor passed by over and over again. After the game mum and dad decided we were not staying here we would go in the morning. How come dad? There are millions of smells here. It was still light when I went my bedtime walk along the beach. The weather was changing, dad still could not se the mythical paps of Jura. The tractor went passed again.
sunset over Gigha

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