Fortune favours the brave...

I've been looking forward to a return trip to Arran ever since leaving it behind on the ferry in November 2011. That trip had been a present for Dave's birthday - Arran means more to him than most as his nephew in Australia shares the island's name. That trip had come just 2 days after our minor car crash, and 2 days after I posted my resignation to Rabbies. I found myself in a funny place (of mind) in a beautiful place. From then on I knew Arran would hold a special place in my heart, and be memorable for all the right reasons.

Of course a lot has changed in the year and four months since then, but I was excited when another opportunity to head across the Firth of Clyde came up. I got a great deal for the Douglas Hotel in Brodick, and that took care of Dave's Christmas present!

I'd let Dave know that the main condition of this Christmas present was that we'd be climbing Goatfell. After the fantastic weather we'd had in February, I was picturing a cold but crisp blue sky day, extensive views and spending hours at the top enjoying our surroundings. Then the snow returned. The forecast for Friday was pretty shocking. Typical.

We arrived on Arran on Thursday afternoon. It was pretty windy but I enjoyed standing outside on the ferry and taking in the fresh air, watching Arran get closer and closer.

As soon as we got to Brodick we made our way south, the weather improving by Lamlash, and it had become a nice day by Whiting Bay. We stopped in at the Torrylin Creamery (which had been closed last time we'd swung by) and then enjoyed lunch by the Torrylin Cairn with views over to Ailsa Craig.

We then drove round the island, not having made it to the north west corner of Arran before. It was simply beautiful and I enjoyed it thoroughly. We stocked up on Arran Gold at the Lochranza distillery before making the loop back to Brodick. It had been a great re-introduction to Arran, and I could only hope the next day brought clearer skies.

The first thing I wanted to do when I woke up on Friday morning was to open the curtains - and see blue sky with Goatfell rising majestically in front of our window. Alas, it was not to be. The rain bounced off the pavement in front of the Hotel. I was going to have to finally accept that Goatfell just wasn't meant to be this time. We'd have to come back; that would not be a chore.

After a truly phenomenal breakfast, we got our walking gear on and decided to head to Lochranza for a low level walk. I didn't fancy sliding my way over rocks in this rain, but I needed a walk of some sort.

First things first, we headed back to the Torrylin Creamery to stock up properly on Arran cheese. We then took The String road back across to Brodick. The roads were quiet - and the weather was improving. Before long Brodick appeared ahead of us, the sun shining. Goatfell, from the corner of our eyes, taunted us in all its snowy glory. Was this break in the weather long enough to get up there and back? Should we chance our luck?

We swithered and swithered - should we risk it? I didn't want to get caught out halfway up a mountain when the weather turned. But I didn't want to give up on this small window of opportunity. We decided to go for it.

By the time we had our boots on and were leaving the carpark opposite the brewery, it was almost half past 12. There was heat in the sun, and our jackets stayed off. The path went through woodland initially, then onto a very good path (good job National Trust!). Wee streams cascaded down over the rocks we scrambled over, with Goatfell inching slightly closer with each step.

No idea who these belonged to!

Looking back to Brodick

It was a bit of a slog at times - constantly looking at our feet as we picked our way over the rocks and over the streams. Every time I glanced up Goatfell looked more and more imposing. The snow that had first looked like just a dusting was now starting to appear a bit more substantial. Before long there was slush and snow beneath our feet. Then we spotted a couple and their dog who must have come up from Corrie.

They had on regular boots and gear like us, which was reassuring, but the tough part was definitely still to come.

The four of us followed - literally - in footsteps that had come before. They were icy footprints now but thank goodness for them - it legitimised us being there and it gave us a route to follow. Without them I'm not sure we'd have managed. We'd have certainly struggled more. We slipped around quite a lot, with a few hairy moments but nothing serious. It was short and sharp but the summit came reasonably quickly.

This wee snowy corridor was interesting, and led right to the summit.

I was thrilled! And cold. The first thing both Dave and I did on getting to the top of Goatfell was put all our layers on. I hadn't even had my jacket on before this point, but it didn't come off again until we reached the car! Gloves, hats and waterproofs on - just in time for a cloud of snow to sweep over. There was something spectacular about standing on top of this snowy peak, gazing over jagged ridges, with snow blowing around us. It was humbling, and magnificent. One thing we'd said in the car during our swithering process was "fortune favours the brave" - we were rich with Scotland's beauty.

Our friends from Sheffield kindly took our picture, and we returned the favour. Their company on those tough bits was great, and it was nice to see a dog on a summit marker!

They continued towards north Goatfell, as we turned to go back the way we'd come. I was concerned about how tricky it would be heading down but it wasn't too bad. We slid quite a bit (my waterproof trousers are a great sledge!) but soon got out of the snow. I started to feel hungry at this point - nearly six hours after breakfast! We stopped on a rock for food and took in our surroundings.

Brodick Bay and Holy Isle

Our descent was quite quick once we got back on the path, although I was feeling a bit tired. It started to rain as we got back towards the woodland, although with our waterproofs already on, we just kept going. Soon we were back at the car, around 4 and a half hours after leaving. I was thoroughly elated that we persevered - and were fortunate enough to get a weather window long enough to conquer the mighty Goatfell. Driving back round to Brodick the mountain could not be seen. In fact I don't think we saw the summit again for the rest of our time on Arran.

A hot powerful shower was unbelievably welcome, as was the cold pint and delicious haggis pizza at Eilean Mor that followed.

We left the next morning, in the pouring rain. It seemed as though there was only a four hour window of decent weather during our few days on Arran, and we'd used it to climb Goatfell. I'm never that lucky when it comes to weather, but this made up for all that. It was tough going in places but I was surprised not to have struggled too much. Although 134 feet short of Munro height, Goatfell is a majestic wee mountain.

From Arran Dave and I made our way to Wigtown, Scotland's national book town, for the final night of our wee break. It was quite a snowy drive through the Galloway Forest Park, although a spectacular drive when the weather behaves I'm sure. We were welcomed and entertained by the locals as we watched the rugby in the pub, and all was well with the world (apart from the Scotland result, but you can't win 'em all).

Before heading for home today, we stopped by Caerlaverock Castle, which has been on my must-see list for quite a while. A fantastic triangular castle with its moat intact, this was an impressive visit.

Back in Edinburgh now and back to reality. It's been a grand couple of days enjoying restorative island air and experiencing new places.

I'm lucky as next week brings further excitement. I start the West Highland Way next weekend and can't wait to get out there - who knows what the weather will bring but if I've learnt anything over the past few days it's that you've got to make the most of the opportunities in front of you. Fortune favours the brave...