This was our last day. By midnight, Chris and I should be back in Edinburgh. Well, as it turned out, I was nearly right. The final leg was meant to be a highlight and weren't disappointed. Our grand finish was to be on the paddle steamer, Waverley, cruising to the centre of Glasgow.
The boat was to leave at 1 pm so, we had time for a quick tour on the east side of Arran on peaceful, DRY Sunday morning. One of our stops was Catacol, with its row of houses affectionately known as 'The Twelve Apostles'.
We did get as far as Pirmill and there had an intake of sugars and carbohydrates. Excitment peaking when watching two sea otters playing close to the shore. It was on the way back the clouds came over, and yet again the grey drizzly skies loomed above us. We again found refuge in the Arran Distillery nursing a whisky watching the rain again streaming down the windows.
Eventually, we were at the pier to watch the Waverley emerge the mist- a sight to stir the most hardened Scotsman. The paddle-steamer was in its glory, with a full pipe band on the pier to play us on board. We drew quite a bit of attention wheeling our loaded bikes up the gangplank, looking as if the stop was just for us.

Everything would have been perfect if it weren't for the bloody rain. Camera's merrily clicking away, with a special bus tours coming from Brodick to witness the spectacle. Japanese visitors were even taking photographs of themselves taking photographs!
The sail to Glasgow wasn’t direct. We saw the west side of Arran again, this time with a lone piper on every headland. The journey up the Clyde estuary was excellent, with a marvelous sunset at Largs. The run up the river to the center of Glasgow, in the dark, was stunning. I never realized how much Glasgow had transformed from heavy industrial areas to expensive executive flats.

We were piped off the boat and headed for a short ride through the center of Glasgow on a Sunday night. Chris stuck to me like glue—this was no time to get separated. Did the people of Glasgow not know it was a Sunday? The city center was packed. Due to Waverley’s late arrival, we missed our expected train and knew the next one wouldn’t leave until 1 am. We hung around the station for an hour, surrounded by good-natured drunks.
On arrival in Edinburgh, Princes Street was still barriered-off from the festival fireworks earlier. Not wishing to miss this opportunity, we zigzagged along a traffic-free Princes Street, apart from the street cleaners. It was about 3 am before we finally got to bed—the end of a long day and, despite the weather, a great adventure for us both.

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