Arran is geologically schizophrenic. It sits astride Scotland’s Highland Boundary Fault, the geological feature that separates the rolling farmland of the Lowlands from the rugged peaks of the Highlands. So, when you disembark from the ferry at Brodick, which is appropriately in the middle of the island, you are faced with a choice. Head north and you’re off into the wilds of heather-clad mountains, roaming deer and deep-cut glens. Head south and you’re into undulating countryside, standing stones and sea views. Luckily, Arran is not very big and is easily explored whichever way you choose. But if you have come to Arran more for heritage than for hiking, then south is the way to go.
Seal Shore, at Kildonan on the southern tip of Arran, has one of the island’s very few sandy beaches. As the name suggests, it is best known for the abundance of sea life to be spotted bobbing among the waves and the birdlife gliding above them. The campsite is a neat and compact little place, run by a no-nonsense couple originally from Yorkshire. It slopes gently down to the beach, which has a handy finger of black rock, known as a dolerite dyke, protruding from the sands into the water. It’s ideal for basking in the sun, as long as the seals (which may or may not be German) haven’t already bagged the best spots.
The dolerite dyke is just one example of Arran’s geological oddities. There are examples of rocks on Arran formed in virtually all the geological periods of the earth, from the Cambrian to the Triassic, making the isle a geologist’s treasure trove.
Bounding forward a few million years in time, Arran still has plenty to offer those who haven’t packed a rock hammer in their rucksack. Kildonan is the ideal base from which to explore the island’s history, and its rich heritage is apparent in the very names of its attractions. Kildonan itself is named after St Donan, a 6th-century Irish monk who settled here. Out in the sound stands the lighthouse on Pladda, a Norse name meaning ‘flat isle’, while further in the distance is the gigantic hump of Ailsa Craig, whose name comes from the Gaelic for ‘fairy rock’. Above the seashore stand the ruins of a 13th-century keep, first built by the MacDonald clan (or Lords of the Isles). More recently, Arran was known as Clydeside’s playground because it attracted hordes of holidaying dockers on their annual holidays. Back then, sailing down the Clyde to Arran for the Trades’ Fortnight was known as going ‘doon the water’. Those days are long gone now, as are most of the shipyards on the Clyde, but that ages-old mix of Norse and Gaelic culture with Highland and Lowland Scottish history has left its mark here.
If you have the time then it’s worth circumnavigating the island because the less-frequented western side has a number of attractions, not least the stone circle at Machrie and the faded grandeur of the Victorian Blackwaterfoot Lodge Hotel. And on the stretch of road from Lochranza in the north to Brodick you’ll find one of Scotland’s little slices of Cornwall: Corrie is a huddle of cottages along the road by a small harbour and is an ideal base for tackling Arran’s most popular climb to the summit of Goat Fell. Its popularity lies not only in its relatively accessible summit, but also in its great vantage point to muse over the delights of this intriguing, schizophrenic little island.