Menononono...Not A Lot

August was a month of loafing. I parked in Dunoon and even managed to get up to the Hutch for a couple of days, just to let it know I knew it was still there. But mostly, stayed in The Grey. Sometimes at the Alexandra Parade main street park up, right by the shore, once a week at the Uni of the Highlands and Islands charger (overnight, very slow pole), a few days down the spit at Sandy Beach (it's not) right on the shore of the Clyde... but mostly at Glenmorag HGV and Coach park, where there are great views, back from the shore, public toilets, and just general peace. 

Well usually. I couldn't get parked up near the Hutch because when I got here, it was the height of school holidays and the place was chockers. Even the Glenmorag got packed on the few days leading up to schools going back... because there is a fantastic kids playground on the shore side of the road, too. 

Peak tourist season. Coachloads were arriving, directly from other UK cities, or from the many floating hotels that drew into the Clyde, deposited their load at Greenock, then sucked them all back and took them off around the coast again. Then there were the Glasgow daytrippers, taking the Waverley nostalgia trip, clambering on and off at the pier, walking the streets with no regard to traffic...

Scottish schools went back on 15th August. However, the English schools had until the end of the month, so the place remained busy, although slightly less manic. Things were propelled further by the fact that we continued to have mostly fantastic weather, usually always up into the low, sometimes higher, 20's centigrade. Truly glorious.

The last few days of August, there was a shift. Suddenly, I was being surrounded by endless flows of motor homes (RVs). The weather also turned. As we headed down toward the end of that last week, it became foul. Shame for the three folk who decided they could pitch their tents on the scrap of grass between the road and the shore... WTF???

I had entirely forgotten about The Cowal Gathering!!! Heaven alone knows what they did for the pipe bands, caber tossers, hammer throwers, and backhold wrestlers. Although not named, we had the mummy and daddy of wind and rain storms. The Grey was a-rocking and a-rolling, the wee chimes chiming, the shelves a-creaking... It was as dark as dark could be, and it lasted from Thursday night till Monday morning. 

Despite this inclemency, the funfair which commandeered the pier carpark continued to ply its trade... and the closing fireworks show went ahead. I was parked at the parade on Saturday night, so I had prime, sheltered viewing. Outside, the road was jam-packed with cars and people out in full wet-weather gear. It's never a long show, about ten minutes, but always pretty impressive. The effects were somewhat damaged by the high winds, but it still managed to be pretty. I didn't even try to photograph it. Through the rain-spattered windowscreen, all the sparkles were enhanced further! Kaleidoscopic. 

Thus, we came to September...