Hay's Way: Stepping into wellness, up close and personal with a shark and the Mull of Kintrye test
Just another standard week on Hay’s Way.
I’ve landed on the Mull of Kintyre peninsula with a funny thought in my head.
Shortly before getting to this landmark point on Hay’s Way, I learned about the ‘Mull of Kintyre test.’ Legend has it the British Board of Film Classification (BBFC) and UK television broadcasters used an unofficial rule that any onscreen penis could not be shown at an angle higher than the downward slope of the Mull of Kintyre peninsula on a map.
I’ve not been able to look at this stretch of land in quite the same way since.
The witty anecdote was shared by Andy the barman at the Kilfinan Hotel, a stunning 300-year-old former coaching inn near Loch Fyne. The cosy spot has recently been taken over by local lass Rosie Barge and her partner, Iain Maclean.
I first tracked down the couple because of West Coast Wellness that overlooks the loch. My creaking back wasn’t going to pass up some potential retreat-ment while I was in the area.
Centred around a stunning geodesic dome that hosts activities designed to be good for mind and body, I joined one of Rosie’s restorative yoga classes. The retreat operates from a family-run farm, home to a large sauna, a mini shop selling home-grown and home-baked goods, adorable animals wandering about, and wooden huts with panoramic views across Loch Fyne where you can sit, drink tea and write. The site is truly a fairytale find.
There is an extra sense of magic to the place with it being nestled in this southern corner of the Argyll peninsula which I have decided is Scotland’s jungle. While large parts of ancient woodland, boasting oak, birch, mosses and ferns, have been blighted by the marching ranks of Sitka spruce and waves of the fast-spreading rhododendron ponticum, the ever-green landscape and large pockets of what remains of this ‘temperate rainforest’ brings a special freshness to the lungs when walking through it.
Spending time with animals, the dogs reminding me of the importance of pandiculation, was not the only respite this oasis of a place gave my weather-beaten body.
A bed at the Kilfinan Hotel was also offered up. Overwhelmed by the kindness, I suggested helping with some room changeovers in exchange for one of the luxurious beds for a night. And that was me settled in for an evening at the bar playing cards, drinking Loch Fyne ale and hearing about tales of the area.
As well as pints, Pilates is also on offer at Kilfinan. The hotel has a bespoke five-bed reformer Pilates studio which I attempted to use the following morning.
My initial plan was to head north from the retreat to the top of Loch Fyne and over to Inveraray. Several locals, however, recommended against the walk along the busy A83, so I attempted to hitch a lift on a boat across the water.
Arriving at a place called Otter Ferry, I thought I’d be in luck. But there was not-a-ferry in sight.
Like several other moments on this walk when local knowledge redraws my map, I ended up doing a 180. I walked south of Loch Fyne to Portavadie where I could take a CalMac ferry to the Kintyre peninsula.
The ‘village’ was far from what I expected. The sprawling holiday complex, with its grand marina, spa and leisure facilities, was a world away from the image I had in my head of this tucked-away corner of Cowal.
Arriving late one evening, the light fading, I couldn’t find much in the way of camping spots in the built up area. Wanting to be close to the showers and washing facilities provided for visitors and yachties, I plonked myself among some motorhomes on a patch of grass.
Home to a huge, second-floor lounge area overlooking the marina, I worked from the hotel for a couple of days while camped nearby. Rising early on Wednesday to catch the first ferry to Tarbert, I learned the vessel was being serviced and wouldn’t be running. It turned out this wasn’t clear as a bunch of other visitors were none the wiser.
With no food shop within walking distance and having eaten all my supplies, a member of staff in the hotel restaurant took pity on me and gave me breakfast on the house. In return for the kind gesture, I paid a visit to the resort’s spa for a massage.
Beautician and masseuse Rosario was nearing the end of her first day at the treatment centre. Originally from Peru and deeply passionate about her Inca roots, she told me how much this week’s solar eclipse meant to her. We talked about its significance in her homeland and the messages it carries as she rolled her oil-covered shoulders and elbows up and down my stiff back.
At one point, Rosario talked about how, legend has it, Incas would sacrifice young women during solar eclipses to appease the deity. It was perhaps not the most relaxing subject matter for a relatively young woman lying naked, face down, on a massage altar less than an hour before the celestial moment, although I couldn’t help but find it amusing.
The massage finished in time for the optimal viewing window, just as the west coast cloud did what west coast cloud does best and blocked out any chance of an eye-burning solar eclipse.
But every cloud has a silver lining. The very next day, on a calm morning while waiting on the slipway at Portavadie Harbour for the ferry to the Kintyre peninsula, an enormous black fin cut through the still water within a few metres of me. What I was gawping at, totally awestruck, was a basking shark.
Locals told me the majestic creatures hadn’t been seen in the area for some 20 years. And there one was, nosing about in the shallow water and putting on a show for the handful of passengers waiting for the MV Isle of Cumbrae’s ferryman to pull in.
On the journey over, it was impossible to not have the following lyrics go through my head:
Far have I travelled and much have I seen; Dark distant mountains with valleys of green; Past painted deserts, the sunset’s on fire; As he carries me home to the Mull of Kintyre.
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