The Top 10 Reasons to Walk the Whithorn Way Next Time You’re Thinking Camino

full Scottish breakfast

#1.  Scottish breakfasts

Haste Ye Back

#2   if you speak English, they speak the same language. Sort of.

Dunure Castle

The Black Vault in Dunure Castle

#3   place names – like the Waters of Luce – that sound like they come from The Princess Bride

Tatty Neeps and Haggis

‘tatties and ‘neeps (and haggis)

#4   ‘tatties and ‘neeps

Miles of Coastline Ken

photo: Ken Wilson

#5   miles and miles of coastal paths

No need to fight for space

#6   no need to fight for space on the trail or in albergues

Scones Jam Ken

scones and jam (for haggis, see above!)

#7   haggis is less disgusting than pulpo

St Ninian

stained glass of St Ninian at Glasgow Cathedral

#8   a saint who may have known the real King Arthur and St Patrick

Drumtroddan Standing Stones

Drumtroddan Standing Stones

#9   currags, castles, cairns, and caves (and neolithic standing stones)

Cask Ales

#10   real Scottish ales

Kissing Gate

And lots more: kissing-gates on the edges of cliffs, Norse-Scots stone crosses, Stone crossa destination where on a clear day you can see Ireland, England, and the Isle of Man, Arts & Crafts art and architecture, Mackintosh at the Willow menuscones with jam, the moors, you’re more likely to be soaked in cold rain than baked by unending heat, Burns cottage slogan

Christine walking through forest RainRobbie Burns, and…I didn’t even mention A.D. Rattray’s Whiskey Experience in Kirkoswald!

There and Back Again

breakfast view from Mansefield Inn Whithorn

The Mansefield B&B, Whithorn

Pilgrimage has two directions. At least, usually it does: Sara Terreault can explain better than me how the ancient Irish (Insular) monks went on peregrinations or wanderings with no intention of returning home. But for the rest of us, to every “there,” there is usually a “back again.” Thank goodness! Whithorn said goodbye with a noisy overnight storm that made me get up to close my window against the sideways rain, then clearing and becoming coyly sunny and warm just as we left. Above is our view from breakfast in the Mansefield Inn. It was once the parsonage to the church converted into a Gulf gas station and garage (below). Fortunately, the conversion of the parsonage was a better job.

Whithorn Church Gas Station

Free Church Gas Pumps

Steampacket Inn view Isle of Whithorn

The Steam Packet Inn, Isle of Whithorn

The folks here are rightly proud of where they live. In our 45 minute taxi to the closest train, the driver told story after story, some of which I can repeat, then briefly turned off the taxi’s meter to take us a few hundred yards off-route to see Kennedy Castle. Once on the train, Ken, Christine, and I headed north to Glasgow. My son Daniel once told me how strange it felt to see a pilgrimage “undone” by being in a motorized vehicle heading back to the starting point. I liked seeing some of the sights again from our Scottish Railway car, including these children at one junction waving at the train.

kids waving at the train

waving at the train as we made our way home

There were unmarked grassy places along the coast where courageous Scots were drying out tents, and I wondered if these were examples of  the “Right of Responsible Access.”

Glasgow Train Station

Glasgow Central Train Station

Glasgow Central Station is one of those beautiful, soaring Victorian train stations. We dropped off Ken and Christine’s things, then they accompanied me to the bus station to catch my bus to the airport. On the way we stopped for tea at a replica tearoom done up in the style of Charles Rennie Mackintosh, Glasgow’s famous early 20th century architect. Now I’m waiting to board a prop plane back to East Midlands.

Mackintosh at the Willow menu

Charles Rennie Mackintosh (or at least a tea-room dedicated to him)

goodbyes at the bus station

saying goodbye at the bus station

Can one really say that they get to know a place in a short week, even while walking? We covered 120 km, more or less. We saw a lot of mud and stones, beached jellyfish and sheep and cattle and dark woods, barley fields and brambles. Walking is different from seeing land from a train. But both, as Ken reminded me, are different from actually spending time, which is how you make an “anywhere” a “somewhere.” It’s partly by telling stories, and remembering, that we create a sense of place. So that’s the next task for me, as a pilgrim returning from the Whithorn Way. I was happy to share Christine and Ken’s company throughout this long walk. PS: It’s interesting that, after a week researching the Right of Responsible Access in Scotland, on my return to Nottingham Google Maps led me right through a new car parking lot that SHOULD also be a footpath. I wound up exercising my right and hopping the barrier to walk through.

Right to Roam back in Notts

why did they close off a public footpath?