Off we toddled to the bus stop and waited and waited and waited. No bus! Back to the bus terminus where they told us that following our conversation they had decided to cancel the buses to Dunure for that day and re-deployed the driver to another town-centre route. Blame Co-vid they said. With no train service to Dunure and no bus, there was no other option than a taxi and even then we hunted all over Ayr town centre before finding one. Not an auspicious start.
After the second breakfast, it was a short stroll round the harbour and on to the stoney beach where, with the tide fairly low, we were able to walk for some miles at the water's edge. There was a lovely clear and crisp feel to the day, resulting in lovely views over to Ailsa Craig, the Sleeping Warrior on Arran and with the southern tip of the Kintyre Peninsula peeking out at the back of Arran.
In the distance to the south, just outside the village, the romantic ruins of Dunure Castle stood stark against a blue sky on a rocky outcrop. Dating from at least the 13th Century the castle belonged to the Kennedy Clan, known as the Earls of Cassilis. The castle is one of many in Scotland in which Mary, Queen of Scots was said to have lain her head. By the mid17th C, the castle was already in ruins and was being pillaged for stone by locals for their building projects. The destruction of the castle was stopped when its financial potential as a visitor attraction was appreciated and over the years it became a romantic place to visit. It is now in the care of the National Trust in Scotland with some areas accessible to the public.
We reached a headland on which the water was right up to the cliff face and we had no option but to take a set of steps built in to the cliff face, back up on to the cliff top for a while. The views over to Ayr and up the Ayrshire coast towards the Firth of Clyde were lovely. The route dropped down again just after the Carwinshoch Burn and stayed on the shore until we came to the outflow of the River Doon, just after the village of Doonfoot. On the way we passed the holiday park where Joanna and I first met over forty years ago and started our courting, before subsequently marrying in Ullapool some six or seven years later.