There’s no truth in the rumour that they are drilling for oil in Portpatrick harbour —
No – nothing so exotic. The jack-up rig is merely sheltering there before starting work on a new sewer outfall and pumping station for Stranraer further up the coast.
It didn’t bother the pigeons who live in the drainage ducts in the harbour walls one bit —
that’s for sure cos they just got on doo-ing what pigeons doo – ouch – checking how many they can fit in a four inch drainage duct —
My friend Derek was heading for Stranraer today on family business so I cadged a lift and he was good enough to drop me right down by the harbour in nearby Portpatrick. A journey that takes just over an hour by motorbike or car would have taken me three and a half hours by bus – not leaving much time to explore.
I had time for a chatty latte with the lady in the tearoom cum fancy ladies gear cum card shop then snapped this foreign looking geezer by the strange goods emporium —
and his demure lady friend with the strategically placed basket —
then it was a brisk walk along the cliffs to the ruined Dunskey Castle —
before finding a sheltered spot from the fresh breeze to have my lunchtime picnic overlooking the harbour —
Next came the lo-ong bus journey back but It was a civilised way to travel with thirty minutes in Stranraer library and another thirty minutes of the trip spent nursing a dark rum and coke in a pleasant Gatehouse hostelry while I waited for the last bus of the day for Kirkcudbright.
from-a-distance 