The Lure of Largs
Elaine Edis-West
The first thing I see is a huge, gaping mouth. No, I haven’t wandered into the wrong room at the dental surgery. I’ve actually arrived at Largs, a seaside resort in North Ayrshire, and I’m just in time to see the Caledonian MacBrayne ferry opening its mammoth jaws.
It’s my first visit to the town, a long-awaited trip deemed essential after driving through it more times than I care to admit. I’m greeted by a 16-foot Viking, known locally as Magnus. Erected in 2013 to commemorate the 750th anniversary of the Battle of Largs, it’s a larger than life, almost comical depiction, especially when sporting one of his chosen accessories (he’s wearing a face mask in one particular on-line photograph, and a Santa hat in another).
Despite the light-hearted image, the town takes its historic links to the Vikings very seriously. A festival is held each year in September to celebrate the Scots’ victory over the Viking army, which saw them regain control of Kintyre and the Western Isles from the Norwegians. The event is a big deal, a week-long celebration that attracts spectators in their droves. I take the obligatory selfie with Magnus and make a mental note to return for the annual spectacle.
The CalMac ferry is already making its way back across the Firth of Clyde, its destination the Isle of Cumbrae. The route is a busy one with numerous crossings transporting islanders and visitors to and from Millport, the island’s capital, each day. Cumbrae is clearly visible from where I stand, its contours highlighted by the sun’s rays. Any warmth is, however, chased away by the chilly north-easterly wind.
I follow the promenade along the seafront, swerving to avoid a red-faced jogger as I fight to regain control of my windswept hair. A number of dogs appear to be taking their owners for a walk, watched by a squabble of seagulls floating overhead.
My eyes are drawn to Nardini’s, the ‘world famous’ ice cream parlour with its impressive art deco façade. It’s an imposing building boasting panoramic sea views since 1935. Restored in 2008 it remains synonymous with the town and, so I’m told, serves much more than just ice cream. Apparently, their fish and chips are legendary but when it comes to this salty favourite, there is ample competition. I’ve already spied three other ‘chippies’, all as inviting as each other. In fact, I can still smell the vinegar.
I resist the temptation and continue, searching for a taste of the ‘real’ Largs. The old-fashioned sweet shop offers jars of nostalgia while the toy store still favours buckets and spades over gadgets and gizmos. Plastic water pistols and rainbow-coloured windmills jostle for space in the window along with other seaside paraphernalia. It’s reassuringly familiar, a reminder of family values and traditional holiday fun. It’s no wonder people return here year after year, booking the same B&B or splashing out on a hotel or luxury apartment. It is undeniably captivating.
The town serves its residents equally well with a well-stocked hardware store, essential newsagent and late-night supermarket. Outside the cobbler’s, a gaggle of pensioners gathers at a bus-stop. Their lively laughter follows me along the uneven path.
Back at the seafront, I marvel at the contemporary apartments neatly slotted between retail stores and the ferry terminal. One is designed to look like a cruise ship with a curved balcony overlooking the sea. I can’t help but wonder if the owners have ever recreated the iconic scene from Titanic: arms outstretched, wind blowing through their hair. The image remains with me as I continue my tour.
The appropriately named ‘Paddle Steamer’ has prime position on the beachfront, its lengthy decking area no doubt littered with refreshing pints and fizzing flutes on less windy days. Today, though, the terrace remains bare, even the hardiest of Scots forced indoors. There’s no sign of PS Waverley either, although, she does make regular appearances throughout the summer, delighting spectators and passengers alike.
The waves crash onto the beach as I walk, drowning the sound of passing traffic. I spot a small boat in the distance, zipping across the water at speed. It is, I suspect, a RNLI craft, the bold orange colour affirming my thoughts. Up ahead, the Lifeboat Station looms ominously empty. The towing tractor awaits the craft’s return at the launch site, along with a small gathering of onlookers. I hope it’s just a training exercise and that all will return safe and well.
Appropriately, the station is overlooked by St Columba’s Parish Church. The red sandstone sanctuary is a prominent landmark in Largs and has stood tall for over 1300 years. Its handsome clock tower is 150 feet high and the focal point for sea passengers sailing to and from the town, as well as those arriving by road.
I picture a summer wedding with rose-petal confetti and elaborate hats; a dapper groom and a blushing bride posing for photographs on the steps; a pretty flower girl in a pink dress, a fractious page boy tugging at his tie. The fairy tale blurs as I look back out to sea, the white-crested waves resembling petticoat frills kicked up by a runaway bride.
Shoving my hands in my jacket pockets I stroll further away from the shops and bars, heading north beside the busy road. The path soon veers away from the traffic and I find myself in a crescent lined with an elegant terrace of three-storey houses. They are immaculately presented with extra-long front gardens, their sash windows affording enviable views of the sea.
Alongside the houses I find Aubery Park where two swans glide around a pond and multi-coloured benches sprout up from the grass. Children clamber on a climbing frame, oblivious to the chill, their shrieks of delight warming my heart.
The wind eventually forces me back to my car but my excursion is not yet complete. Just south of the town lies Largs Yacht Haven, an impressive marina with berths for 730 boats. It’s a stark contrast from the town itself, the array of gleaming boats very different to the laden ferries that shuttle to and from Cumbrae. It’s an impressive sight, the masts punctuating the sky with an endless line of exclamation marks.
The haven represents glamour and sophistication, an upmarket alternative to Largs’ irrefutable but slightly dated charm. It’s home to a popular restaurant and a café as well as a spa and clothing store. Not forgetting the marine service facilities and yacht clubs. In fact, I could spend as long at the marina as I did in the town!
Content with my hours of exploration, I decide to call it a day. There is, however, one final photo opportunity as I exit the marina. Like Magnus, the so-called ‘Pencil’ was built to commemorate the defeat of the Viking fleet in 1263. The whinstone tower is a striking monument and a reminder that Largs has so much more to offer than its lengthy seafront. The depth of this delightful town offers just as much appeal.
As if to agree, a ferry blasts its horn as it heads to Cumbrae. I wave it off with a smile and a solemn promise to return.
