W alking Stage Two of the West Island Way may not have had the same spectacular views as we’d experienced walking Stage One, but it far from disappointed.
Strolling Stravanan Bay beach
Crossing the island from east to west and then along its spine, it took us from golden beach, across moors and alongside tranquil lochs before we descended into Rothesay, just shy of the official end at Port Bannatyne. The full stage is 11.5 miles/18.5km.
West Island Way
O pened in September 2000, the West Island Way is the first long-distance, waymarked path on a Scottish Island and takes in the island’s best walking. At just 30 miles in total, the Way divides into four hall day or two full day walks.
Walking Stage One had taken us on a breathtaking (physically and metaphorically) circuit of the island’s southern tip. To begin Stage Two, we once again jumped on the bus from Rothesay to Kilchatten Bay. This time a friend joined us, so we were a merry gang of four, including the indefatigable Brodie (a cockerpoo).
Waiting for the bus from Rothesay to Kilchatten Bay
Getting off the bus in Kilchatten village, ahead of the terminus, we walked behind the row of cottages to join the waymarked path through the Suidhe Wood. Crossing over the A844 road, our path took us alongside the Baird Airstrip, a small airfield which was renamed in 2010 to mark the centenary of Andrew Baird’s historic flight.
The Baird Airstrip
A Rothesay blacksmith, in 1910 Andrew Blain Baird designed and built his own monoplane which was transported to Ettrick Bay in readiness for Baird to attempt the ‘first all Scottish heavier than air powered flight’. On the morning of September 11th, 1970, the plane took off… and promptly returned to earth.
Nevertheless, the aircraft had left the ground and briefly flown, quite the feat for a Rothesay blacksmith in a self-built plane.
What the Baird Airstrip departure lounge lacks in facilities, it makes up for in location
The airstrip is little more than a field with a windsock and three wooden tables and benches. As departure lounges go, it leaves a bit to be desired, but it commemorates a man described by his fellow ironworkers as: “A valiant Scotsman with a creative mind. His hand was ever open and against no man. A man of mettle”.
Sandy Shore and Moorland
B eyond the airstrip, Stage Two of the West Island Way crossed the golf course and headed down to the sandy shore of Stravanan Bay beach (top image). Strolling the shore, we had grandstand views over Arran and its profile of the Sleeping Warrior.
Crossing the golf course above Stravanan Bay
Turning inland, we followed the path over fields to a farm whose gates were so securely tied, we had to check the map to ensure we hadn’t taken a wrong turn. Gates successfully conquered, we walked up to the road and then along a lane towards Scoulag Moor.
Along Lord James’ Ride, a stone cairn marked the spot of an old trig point and a bench alongside provided an idyllic lunch spot with panoramic views across to Arran and over the isle of Inchmarnock.
Inchmarnock
L ying in the Firth of Clyde, around one mile off the west coast of Bute, Inchmarnock is just 2.5 miles from north tip to south, and half a mile wide at its widest part. Steeped in history, the earliest evidence of the island’s occupation is a Bronze Age woman known as the Queen of the Inch, whose remains were found by a farmer in the 1960s.
The island takes its name from a holy man named Saint Ernán who established a monastery on the island in the 7th century. Local legend has it that during the 19th century a notorious Bute alcoholic was banished to Inchmarnock, without alcohol, to overcome his addiction. It’s unknown whether or not the ‘cold turkey’ treatment worked.
At one time 41 people lived on Inchmarnock but the last resident, a tenant farmer, left in 1986 and the island was sold. Today it’s a private estate and in 2025 was on the market for offers over 2 million.
The Return to Bute
A s we finished the last of our sandwiches, Brodie, who had been rolling on his back some 20 metres behind us, revelling in his surroundings, came wandering back to the bench and we realised what he had been rolling in. He had found the biggest, wettest cow pat on the entire moor and had rolled over and back through it until his entire coat, head, collar, and tail were thoroughly coated in slimy cow shit.
Brodie in his coat of many odours
Keeping Brodie at a distance, we gently descended, skirting the southern shore of Loch Ascog. Although Stage Two of the West Island Way continues into Port Bannatyne, we had already walked that section so we chose to end it back in Rothesay where a beer at Bute Yard beckoned for us, and a hosing down back at the house awaited Brodie.
Another fabulous day out.
