The kids. June 2006.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Scotland Part 3
DAY EIGHT
12:05 PM Thurs 25th
AROS visitor centre, Portree, Skye.
Andy
Just a note to say that outside the windows here right now it’s hailstoning - big ones. We’ve ridden 25 miles or so in a mixed bag of sunshine and heavy rain showers – the frequency and fieceness of which have gradually increased as we have ridden along the coast road from staffin. We opted for the north (east?) coast road as it’s quieter and the views over to torridon etc plus those of the Trotternish (Storr etc) here on Skye itself are most impressive. The Black Cuillin themselves have not long come into proper view and loom menacingly now in the near distance. The big tops of it’s north end: Gillean, Bastier etc tower above the rest of the island over there and there’s a fair amount of snow still on them. They do live up to their BLACK title very much from here.
Anyway – I digress - it’s not been a bad day so far. Indeed the early traverse of the Trotternish from Uig to get over to Staffin really was wonderful, and we were pushed along uphill by a stiff tail wind. The drop down to Staffin was steep (1:7) and exhilarating, and the road along the coast has been undulatiing and pleasant, spoilt only by rain showers as we eventually approached Portree.
Rich has ordered food and is now off in the shop looking for souvenirs - in particular one of those little things you turn over in your hand and it goes “moo”.
Last night was quite good fun in the (3 Star) Uig Youth Hostel with it’s hippy lady warden. First order of the evening was that I raced on my bike to the shop which was a bastard 2 miles down the hill at the ferry pier…
Rich
.. in search of provision, and we ate a hearty meal made up of bangers, mash and beans which andy then went and spoiled by putting cheese on and coleslaw with (he should never open a restaurant).
We spent yesterday evening in the YHA chatting with folks: 2 cyclists from of all places, Calverley; an Aussie couple and two young midwives from Croyden. The latter two pairings were on road trips and came out to Skye on a bit of a whim. Fair enough.
The riding today has been most scenic… except when the hail came down of course. We are now lounging replete and slightly steamy: not an unpleasant experience for us, but I can’t speak for our fellow diners. But they all came here by car so they don’t count.
Andy
Cheese on baked beans is genius. And coleslaw is a nutritious addition to any meal.
I’ve just bought a couple more of the long postcards – good ‘arty’ ones to put in frames at home. Trouble is they are too big to go in the bar bag so I am going to have to diamantle one of my panniers to get them to where they are safe from getting folded and/or wet.
5:10 Youth Hostel, Broadford. Skye
Well, after the Portree stop the weather was fine and sunny all the way here so we made good time with the wind behind us virtually all the way.
Personally I was most distressed to find myself racing past the Sligachan Hotel without at least stopping to pay my respects! Just goes to underline that a biking holiday is a biking holiday and the whole point of it is to be on the road. But still, to pass by such an iconic place with only a swift gaze about at the ridiculous mountain scenery and a quiet salute is a bit off!
I did notice a bot of a wobble in Rich’s back wheel today and thought nothing much of it as I presumed that he would have noticed anything awry when he was braking. But he didn’t – and we spotted the reason for the wobble when we were unloading the bikes in the shed here – he had about 6 very loose spokes! Sorted now though, and just in time by the looks of things.
We had considered going on to the next Hostel at Kyleakin – another 10 miles down to the Kyle of Lochalsh – but we took one look at this place and opted to stop here. It’s very nice. Great spot on the side of the loch looking over at Applecross etc, and anyway apparently the Hostel at Kyleakin is a noisy backpackers hangout with a non-existent curfew. AND there’s pub quiz in one of the local pubs here tonight organised by one of the wardens at theis hostel. Cool.
DAY NINE
Glencarron Hotel 1:35 PM
En route back to Torridon
Andy
It’s Drowned Rats day today – a LOT of rain so far and we are about half way on a big day with a fair few climbs still to do. A sense of humour failure (our first one) was not far away from both of us earlier on in the rain. We are cold and wet.
On the plus side the scenery is as ever wondrous and this café is very good. Top drawer lentil soup and warming sweet hot chocolate. Yum.
Oh, and we won the quiz night last night accompanied by two lady Scottish coppers!
Torridon Youth Hostel
Later that day
Rich
Yeah, that was weird. Andy had stopped on the way to the pub quiz to throw “skimmers” into the sea (quite amusing if you are 12, that is) and these two ladies from the hostel were going our way, one swinging a wine bottle… They were a good laugh: Kirtsie and Leslie (a 2nd Dan black belt at karate) and did not take and shit from anyone, including the locals which was pretty useful when we won the quiz! We then proceeded to spend the (£20!) prize money at the bar…
We woke up with hangovers and rain, neither of which looked set to go away in a hurry so we set off anyhow. After an easy start [up until just after we got across the Skye bridge] we hit some bad weather. Things were not helped when I was temporarily blinded by road salt pouring off my head and into my eyes. Although I was in serious danger of looking like a middle-aged crisis ridden Harley Davidson fanatic I nevertheless accepted Andy’s kind offer of his bandana (next stop – an inappropriate tattoo…?).
After our tea and soup stop the weather cleared and it all became a lot more pleasant, although some big hills inexplicably sprang up in front of us. I got my ice-cream (eventually) in Lochcarron, and we greedily munched our Cornettos in the mizzle while the midges, in turn, greedily munched us.
Andy
I must just say one thing here – skimming stones is much more than “quite amusing” when you are 12 – it’s an art. One which should be practiced and honed at any given opportunity, and which Rich will never appreciate as, lets be honest, he throws like a girl.
Quite amusing that Rich also ended up wearing the bandana after he’d been taking the piss out of me all week for the Buff wearing. Still, it kept the salt out of his eyes which was most excellent.
Today has been hard graft - a LOT of hills on every stage, and in particular two or three nasty little climbs as we felt were were on the very last home stretch bit. Some glorious scenery though, as ever. Loch Carron I would wager is amazing in half decent conditions and the run down (some excellent new black top) into Glen Torridon really was beautiful. And we even had the sun out for a while there.
We prepared a “skyscraper of food” each on the tiny little hostel plates. You’d think they’d realise that people who come here have big appetites…
One thing I have noticed in this hostel is the prevelance of the wearing of socks with sandals and this is most distressing.
We bought some cornflakes: excellent. The omellete, bacon and beans routine will finally be broken!
We were pondering the fate of the “Old Lady” we met in Ullapool while we were cycling along in the shit weather today – how would she be coping in such adverse conditions? Rich reckons she’ll she’ll be on Orkney fuelled by a Finger of Fudge and a cherry
tomato.
The two Calverley guys are here – the did the Applecross circuit today on top of coming back from Skye and it half killed them. There’s cycling and enjoying it (which I reckon is what Rich and I have been doing) – knowing your limits and not doing stuff just because it’s there – and then there’s being plain stupid.
Rich
Agreed again. I don’t do this just to tell tall stories in the hostels in the evenings to try to impress total strangers. Jeez – get a life.
[And that was about it. Plans to go and do the Applecroft circuit by bike (or by car) were shelved as the weather was lousy and there wasn’t really much point withiout the views. So, we left a day early. Actually due to the shortened Outer Hebrides episode we were two days earlier than planned as our original intention was to drive back down on the Bank Holiday Monday. But it would be good to be back home with a day to spare and not having to go straight to work the next day etc. We had a bit of a lie in the next (Saturday) morning, eventually packed the car, said goodbye to the top warden chappie and set off on the long drive home. We did a pit stop in the Cairngorms at the ski place who’s name escapes me now as we were going that way and neither of had been there before. Looks a top town and we dined in a café above a climbing shop which did the most excellent food. We got talking to a couple of blokes, University lecturers, who were heading up to Assynt on a geology field trip, which was most pleasant.
It was here that we had our one and only technical of the trip – and it involved Rich’s car. It had been smelling of diesel a bit and when we returned to it in the climbing shop car park to find it sat in it’s own colourful pool of fuel. The leak was soon found - it was pissing diesel from a split rubber seal thingy. We fixed it using the glue from a puncture repair kit and sealed it good and proper with a zip tie. A truly marvellous bodge job.
Once diesel stench free we drove south, and we drove south some more. And some more until we reached England. Then some more south; east a bit and eventually arrived in Calverley on Saturday evening. Rich stopped over and he headed back to Reading on the Sunday.]
[A side story of note from the final day: On arrival at the hostel we encountered an example of the phenomenon that is the strange lone male cyclist. This particular one was called John and we initially met him just as we rolled down the valley towards the hostel. (We had seen him as he left Broadford that morning while we were faffing with the bikes in the shed.) Immediate conversation revealed that his 60+ miles that day was ‘disappointing’ for him as he usually averages about 90, or 100 preferably. This did look initially most implausable as this guy was riding an ancient Raleigh Randonneur tourer with trainers, jogging pants, no helmet and a seat adjusted to what looked to be exactly the wrong height for optimum pedalling power. The only thing that marked him out as an any way serious tourer was a pair of smart Ortlieb panniers. We noticed he was in our dorm that night too and it seemed only polite to offer him a seat with us while we were eating. Hmmm. He had a LOT of cycling tales to tell – tours in Africa and North West USA plus him owning a house in Africa somewhere and offering it up as accommodation for cycle tourists… etc etc. All very interesting, and to fair he seemed a nice bloke, but Christ he didn’t half go on. I think Rich at some point escaped to do the dishes and I ran away to the quiet room and read a book or something. By the time he found us again we’d been chatting to the Calverley lads for a while so we were able to bid our goodnights to them all just as John was starting his round of tales again!
We did our late start and caught up with John on the road as he’s headed for Inverness as well that day. Christ he’d really coverered a lot of miles by the time we saw him, and he’s probably still out there, cycling round somewhere – same as “Old lady”. There’s a lot of them out there folks so treat them with care should you pass them on the roads.]
TOUR STATS
430 odd miles in car each way (Calverley to Torridon); 315 of which is in Scotland.
294 recorded on bike computer (it cut out in heavy rain) + 25 (Harris) + 60 (last day)
Approx 375 miles cycled in total. Max single day: 93 miles.
Recorded average = 13.1 mph.
Recorded max speed = 42.3 mph (I think this was descending into Ullapool)
Touring satisfaction quotient: 100%
12:05 PM Thurs 25th
AROS visitor centre, Portree, Skye.
Andy
Just a note to say that outside the windows here right now it’s hailstoning - big ones. We’ve ridden 25 miles or so in a mixed bag of sunshine and heavy rain showers – the frequency and fieceness of which have gradually increased as we have ridden along the coast road from staffin. We opted for the north (east?) coast road as it’s quieter and the views over to torridon etc plus those of the Trotternish (Storr etc) here on Skye itself are most impressive. The Black Cuillin themselves have not long come into proper view and loom menacingly now in the near distance. The big tops of it’s north end: Gillean, Bastier etc tower above the rest of the island over there and there’s a fair amount of snow still on them. They do live up to their BLACK title very much from here.
Anyway – I digress - it’s not been a bad day so far. Indeed the early traverse of the Trotternish from Uig to get over to Staffin really was wonderful, and we were pushed along uphill by a stiff tail wind. The drop down to Staffin was steep (1:7) and exhilarating, and the road along the coast has been undulatiing and pleasant, spoilt only by rain showers as we eventually approached Portree.
Rich has ordered food and is now off in the shop looking for souvenirs - in particular one of those little things you turn over in your hand and it goes “moo”.
Last night was quite good fun in the (3 Star) Uig Youth Hostel with it’s hippy lady warden. First order of the evening was that I raced on my bike to the shop which was a bastard 2 miles down the hill at the ferry pier…
Rich
.. in search of provision, and we ate a hearty meal made up of bangers, mash and beans which andy then went and spoiled by putting cheese on and coleslaw with (he should never open a restaurant).
We spent yesterday evening in the YHA chatting with folks: 2 cyclists from of all places, Calverley; an Aussie couple and two young midwives from Croyden. The latter two pairings were on road trips and came out to Skye on a bit of a whim. Fair enough.
The riding today has been most scenic… except when the hail came down of course. We are now lounging replete and slightly steamy: not an unpleasant experience for us, but I can’t speak for our fellow diners. But they all came here by car so they don’t count.
Andy
Cheese on baked beans is genius. And coleslaw is a nutritious addition to any meal.
I’ve just bought a couple more of the long postcards – good ‘arty’ ones to put in frames at home. Trouble is they are too big to go in the bar bag so I am going to have to diamantle one of my panniers to get them to where they are safe from getting folded and/or wet.
5:10 Youth Hostel, Broadford. Skye
Well, after the Portree stop the weather was fine and sunny all the way here so we made good time with the wind behind us virtually all the way.
Personally I was most distressed to find myself racing past the Sligachan Hotel without at least stopping to pay my respects! Just goes to underline that a biking holiday is a biking holiday and the whole point of it is to be on the road. But still, to pass by such an iconic place with only a swift gaze about at the ridiculous mountain scenery and a quiet salute is a bit off!
I did notice a bot of a wobble in Rich’s back wheel today and thought nothing much of it as I presumed that he would have noticed anything awry when he was braking. But he didn’t – and we spotted the reason for the wobble when we were unloading the bikes in the shed here – he had about 6 very loose spokes! Sorted now though, and just in time by the looks of things.
We had considered going on to the next Hostel at Kyleakin – another 10 miles down to the Kyle of Lochalsh – but we took one look at this place and opted to stop here. It’s very nice. Great spot on the side of the loch looking over at Applecross etc, and anyway apparently the Hostel at Kyleakin is a noisy backpackers hangout with a non-existent curfew. AND there’s pub quiz in one of the local pubs here tonight organised by one of the wardens at theis hostel. Cool.
DAY NINE
Glencarron Hotel 1:35 PM
En route back to Torridon
Andy
It’s Drowned Rats day today – a LOT of rain so far and we are about half way on a big day with a fair few climbs still to do. A sense of humour failure (our first one) was not far away from both of us earlier on in the rain. We are cold and wet.
On the plus side the scenery is as ever wondrous and this café is very good. Top drawer lentil soup and warming sweet hot chocolate. Yum.
Oh, and we won the quiz night last night accompanied by two lady Scottish coppers!
Torridon Youth Hostel
Later that day
Rich
Yeah, that was weird. Andy had stopped on the way to the pub quiz to throw “skimmers” into the sea (quite amusing if you are 12, that is) and these two ladies from the hostel were going our way, one swinging a wine bottle… They were a good laugh: Kirtsie and Leslie (a 2nd Dan black belt at karate) and did not take and shit from anyone, including the locals which was pretty useful when we won the quiz! We then proceeded to spend the (£20!) prize money at the bar…
We woke up with hangovers and rain, neither of which looked set to go away in a hurry so we set off anyhow. After an easy start [up until just after we got across the Skye bridge] we hit some bad weather. Things were not helped when I was temporarily blinded by road salt pouring off my head and into my eyes. Although I was in serious danger of looking like a middle-aged crisis ridden Harley Davidson fanatic I nevertheless accepted Andy’s kind offer of his bandana (next stop – an inappropriate tattoo…?).
After our tea and soup stop the weather cleared and it all became a lot more pleasant, although some big hills inexplicably sprang up in front of us. I got my ice-cream (eventually) in Lochcarron, and we greedily munched our Cornettos in the mizzle while the midges, in turn, greedily munched us.
Andy
I must just say one thing here – skimming stones is much more than “quite amusing” when you are 12 – it’s an art. One which should be practiced and honed at any given opportunity, and which Rich will never appreciate as, lets be honest, he throws like a girl.
Quite amusing that Rich also ended up wearing the bandana after he’d been taking the piss out of me all week for the Buff wearing. Still, it kept the salt out of his eyes which was most excellent.
Today has been hard graft - a LOT of hills on every stage, and in particular two or three nasty little climbs as we felt were were on the very last home stretch bit. Some glorious scenery though, as ever. Loch Carron I would wager is amazing in half decent conditions and the run down (some excellent new black top) into Glen Torridon really was beautiful. And we even had the sun out for a while there.
We prepared a “skyscraper of food” each on the tiny little hostel plates. You’d think they’d realise that people who come here have big appetites…
One thing I have noticed in this hostel is the prevelance of the wearing of socks with sandals and this is most distressing.
We bought some cornflakes: excellent. The omellete, bacon and beans routine will finally be broken!
We were pondering the fate of the “Old Lady” we met in Ullapool while we were cycling along in the shit weather today – how would she be coping in such adverse conditions? Rich reckons she’ll she’ll be on Orkney fuelled by a Finger of Fudge and a cherry
tomato.
The two Calverley guys are here – the did the Applecross circuit today on top of coming back from Skye and it half killed them. There’s cycling and enjoying it (which I reckon is what Rich and I have been doing) – knowing your limits and not doing stuff just because it’s there – and then there’s being plain stupid.
Rich
Agreed again. I don’t do this just to tell tall stories in the hostels in the evenings to try to impress total strangers. Jeez – get a life.
[And that was about it. Plans to go and do the Applecroft circuit by bike (or by car) were shelved as the weather was lousy and there wasn’t really much point withiout the views. So, we left a day early. Actually due to the shortened Outer Hebrides episode we were two days earlier than planned as our original intention was to drive back down on the Bank Holiday Monday. But it would be good to be back home with a day to spare and not having to go straight to work the next day etc. We had a bit of a lie in the next (Saturday) morning, eventually packed the car, said goodbye to the top warden chappie and set off on the long drive home. We did a pit stop in the Cairngorms at the ski place who’s name escapes me now as we were going that way and neither of had been there before. Looks a top town and we dined in a café above a climbing shop which did the most excellent food. We got talking to a couple of blokes, University lecturers, who were heading up to Assynt on a geology field trip, which was most pleasant.
It was here that we had our one and only technical of the trip – and it involved Rich’s car. It had been smelling of diesel a bit and when we returned to it in the climbing shop car park to find it sat in it’s own colourful pool of fuel. The leak was soon found - it was pissing diesel from a split rubber seal thingy. We fixed it using the glue from a puncture repair kit and sealed it good and proper with a zip tie. A truly marvellous bodge job.
Once diesel stench free we drove south, and we drove south some more. And some more until we reached England. Then some more south; east a bit and eventually arrived in Calverley on Saturday evening. Rich stopped over and he headed back to Reading on the Sunday.]
[A side story of note from the final day: On arrival at the hostel we encountered an example of the phenomenon that is the strange lone male cyclist. This particular one was called John and we initially met him just as we rolled down the valley towards the hostel. (We had seen him as he left Broadford that morning while we were faffing with the bikes in the shed.) Immediate conversation revealed that his 60+ miles that day was ‘disappointing’ for him as he usually averages about 90, or 100 preferably. This did look initially most implausable as this guy was riding an ancient Raleigh Randonneur tourer with trainers, jogging pants, no helmet and a seat adjusted to what looked to be exactly the wrong height for optimum pedalling power. The only thing that marked him out as an any way serious tourer was a pair of smart Ortlieb panniers. We noticed he was in our dorm that night too and it seemed only polite to offer him a seat with us while we were eating. Hmmm. He had a LOT of cycling tales to tell – tours in Africa and North West USA plus him owning a house in Africa somewhere and offering it up as accommodation for cycle tourists… etc etc. All very interesting, and to fair he seemed a nice bloke, but Christ he didn’t half go on. I think Rich at some point escaped to do the dishes and I ran away to the quiet room and read a book or something. By the time he found us again we’d been chatting to the Calverley lads for a while so we were able to bid our goodnights to them all just as John was starting his round of tales again!
We did our late start and caught up with John on the road as he’s headed for Inverness as well that day. Christ he’d really coverered a lot of miles by the time we saw him, and he’s probably still out there, cycling round somewhere – same as “Old lady”. There’s a lot of them out there folks so treat them with care should you pass them on the roads.]
TOUR STATS
430 odd miles in car each way (Calverley to Torridon); 315 of which is in Scotland.
294 recorded on bike computer (it cut out in heavy rain) + 25 (Harris) + 60 (last day)
Approx 375 miles cycled in total. Max single day: 93 miles.
Recorded average = 13.1 mph.
Recorded max speed = 42.3 mph (I think this was descending into Ullapool)
Touring satisfaction quotient: 100%
Scotland Part 2
DAY FOUR
Monday 12th June 3:30PM
Ullapool – The Return – Sat outside Youth Hostel.
Andy
Firstly, mention must be made of a lady we have just encountered. She was the first cycle tourist we have chatted to (except actually for the grumpy Belgians here the other night – but they don’t count). First impression was her bike – REALLY laden up – and we both thought “How is that little old lady managing to get round here on that thing?” Well, in conversation it turns out that she’s cycled here from fucking Carlisle and is “on her way round”, as in right round the bloody coast! AND she’s camping. Christ. Then she’s off to Norway on the ferry (from Newcastle) and plans to “do a bit” over there before heading down through Scandanavia. All on her bike. Fair play – that is THE thing to do on your retirement, but fucking hell lady we now feel a bit inadequate on our mere ten day tour.
Rich
Not ‘arf mate. We feel dead wimpy. But we told her of our 40 mph downhills, which she was a bit scared of, so perhaps she wasn’t that hard after all.
Up this morning and made what we hoped would be a monster protein – calorific breakfast: fried corned beef. Unfortunately it really wasn’t too pleasant (and Andy couldn’t quite stomach all of his) [it was foul] but it did the job as fuel.
Said goodbye to Dave and Caroline, and the students (who, given that they were up until 2am with their fire on the beach, were up promptly) and headed for the more main route, easterly, past Loch Assynt, to pick up the A road going south (A837). Good progress, fantsatic views of Suilven and the other not-quite-Munros and a couple of stops for a castle (Andy just LOVES castles) and a tea-shop where we camped out until the hail had gone past.
Andy
(The castle was pants.)
We are now being buzzed by the RAF and their pesky jet fighters. This somehow spoils the seaside ambience if you ask me.
Considering how ‘cold’ the weather is, once again I am being burned by the sun here. Just had a text from Jo saying that the weather is cack in Leeds. Good. It’s top up here.
Yep – the cycle today was pretty hard one again. The return down the main road to Ullapool made us realise just how much graft we put in yesterday before we set off on the single track road to nowhere down the loch side. It was 10 miles and on it today we had at least three 40 mph descents, long ones, up which we’d toiled yesterday on the way north. No wonder we were knackered after a mere 30 miles to Achmelvic.
We toyed briefly with the idea of moving our YH booking over to Stornoway tonight and getting the 5:30 ferry across. But our boy here tells us that there’s no SYHA place in Stornoway (we’d have to find an independent one) so we have opted to stop and chill in Ullapool. After all this is a holiday!
Rich
And it’s sunny, so I am gonna need an ice cream.
6:10 PM
Thoroughly cleaned and showered in the Youth Hostel the intrepid duo march off to the touristy shops and indulge in a postcard buying frenzy. Oh, yes. We are so hard. We had a rescheduling meeting and have reduced our last stop at Torridon down to a single night (Sunday) as this will give us another day on the outer islands – we were a bit oushed for time otherwise. Also we are now booked into Uig and Broadford on Skye, so we are pretty much fully planned. The Gatliff ‘simple’ hostels on Lewis, Harris and Uist don’t take bookings.
The weather forecast it has to be said is lousy, but it has been thus all the way so far, and (touch wood) we seem to have been OK. At least the wind is Westerly which is fine for us as we will be blown back across Skye!
Rich has just been on the t’internet at 50p for 10 minutes which is a tad costly. I’ve written a few postcards.
The plan is to go for some more award winning fish and chips tonight. Yum. And a beer. Or two. In the meantime we will retire once again to the comfy chairs.
Rich has just informed me that our gorgeous Scandanavia girls have arrived. About time too.
DAY FIVE
Monday 10:25 AM
Ferry Ullapool to Stornaway
Andy
On board SS… ferry, which is just about to disembark from Ullapool. Now, this DOES feel like a proper advanture all of a sudden.
Yesterday evening we hit the chippy once again. It is actually properly award winning. Oh yes. Radio 4 voted it ‘Britains Best Take Away’ in 2005. And to be fair the (cooked to order) fish and chips are very, very good.
Having taken said fish and chips back to the hostel we dined with two German girls to whom we’d been chatting earlier. Rich picked a fine Merlot from CostCutter to go with the food. Deserts were Muller Fruit Corners – we eat in style!
[A note here on the German girls. Two youngsters, one 19 and one 25, just off on a jolly on buses around Scotland staying at hostels. We met a lot of folk doing this – just out for an adventure in a ‘far way’ place. Pairs of girls in particular, having a great, easy, safe holiday. This goes to show the excellence of the SYHA system.]
After dinner we roamed round all the pubs looking for one which served proper beer. After rejecting three (The Arch - dead), The Seaforth and The Ceilidh Pub (full of old people) we arrived back at the FBI next to the hostel and had one there. [This pub it should be noted had a bunch of Yorkshire men and women serving behind the bar.] Again, the smoking ban in pubs should be loudly applauded here. I cannot wait for this rule to be law in England.
OK, we are off. 2hrs 45 mins to Stornoway and the forecast is for a ‘comfortable’ crossing. The weather is, as ever for a morning, dull and drizzly, but hopefully will sort itself out in the afternoon like it’s been doing each day so far.
In Scotland you continuously feel as if you are exisiting inside a postcard view. For instance last night the sunset in the harbour produced some really beautiful light conditions, and there was also an amazingly bright little rainbow which appeared in the middle of the harbour at one point.
Back from our beer we DID end up chatting to a pair of blonde Swedish girls. See – I told you there would be some.
We both slept well once again.
This morning we have been to the aid of a fellow biker chap who was in our dorm and who was having a wheel/tyre type issue. Turns out he’d been sold an unsuitable rim and then on top of that a crap tyre (his original tyre was fine). No tyres would fit on the rim unless he managed to get about 80 psi into it, which he couldn’t with his rubbish pump. Rich’s excellent mini track pump did the job no problem. The guy is still stuck though as he needs a new pump or preferably another, more suitable, rim. Ho hum.
Omlette, bacon and toast for breakfast once again and the boat tickets were obtained (£30 for an island “Hopper” package thing which was a bargain for our 3 boats). Bags packed, and here we are on the ferry heading out of port and into The Minch [the channel between the mainland and the Outer Hebrides]. There’s lots of pretty islands dotted all around [the Summer Isles] and the weather ahead looks like it consists mostly of blue sky.
DAY SIX
Tuesday 7:05pm
Kershader Community Hostel, South Lochs, Lewis.
Rich
We are in a strange place – not what we thought it would be and this is not where we were meant to stop...
For some reason we were the absolute last to leave the ferry (priority not given to cycles, then) and I noticed only one foreign vehicle on the car deck. Straight after hitting the off ramp it absolutely pelted with rain – NOT a nice welcome!! Just as we were getting lost in Stornaway and Land Rover pulled up alongside us and it was Andy’s mate Kev, who’s wife is from Lewis and they have a house on the (rather remote) west coast.
We went for shelter and lunch in a café and when it didn’t look like the weather was going to break, decided to head off regardless. The plan was to do Callanish. Unfortunately, when we missed a turn just out of town (I thought I saw it but it wasn’t signposted anyway). As we were down the road and the weather was still dismal the thought of going west and then having an almighty headwind later on the return was a bit too much to take, so we pressed on south.
There were breaks in the weather but it ws slow going and the open moorland offered little relief. The oddest thing has to be the ‘villages’. Sometimes you’ll get an impressive array of build up: “40” speed limit signs; countdown markers; names in English and Gaelic and for what? One house if you are lucky. It sums up one of Andy’s favourite phrases about some of the places we have passed through: “Is that it?”.
Andy
This area is deslolate. Not in the impressive fashion though – more in the crap kind. Just endless featurless open moorland – a whole lot of fuck all. Why the hell anyone would choose to live here I really do not know. I guess in nice weather – some sunshine and a little less of the cross-winds and freezing rain – the cycle south may have been quite pleasant through this alien landscape, but as it was it was just grim. I found myself really wanting to be cycling through the familiarity of mountain scenery once again: big hills and everything. The exposure and unfamiliarity of it all was rather unsettling.
Anyhow we eventually found our turning off the main road (the only road!) south to find this odd little place about 5 miles down a single track road. We’d been thinking traditional Black house with a thatched roof… and we are in an old school building. Well, not that old – something from the 60’s with classic Scottish white rendering etc. No bloody heating either: we cannot get it to work. At least the tumble dryer seems to be going for free (Rich: Hu-fucking-rah).
Out two fellow guests (note: only two as no one else is daft enough to want to seek this place out) are Nicole: a German nurse who speaks really wonderful English and who is bussing it round the islands; and Mike, a felllow bike tourer from Darlington. He is the most loaded up biker we have yet met: 4 panniers, back pack and a bum bag. Tent, walking gear and everything on board, and he’s on his own. Crikey. Both these guys seem decent people to be sharing with.
Ooh look – it’s peeing down again outside and five minutes ago it was blazing sunshine. Welcome to Lewis indeed.
Tomorrow we will head further south and see how far we can get. Bernaray would be the target but we can bail out once again (to another YH) a bit further north if needs be.
The happening night life of this place consists of the four of us sitting round eating polo mints and Rich’s packet of dried fruit. Rock and roll.
Rich
Another “funny” moment on the road was when we were pounding along against the sideways rain and looked up to see two roofers hard at work on a chimney. We thought they were nutters .. but consider this: at least they weren’t on holiday.
We also had a minor (but nevertheless significant) mechanical: my horn broke. So at the moment I cannot scare the sheep whitless or signal the arrival at our destination in the traditional Eatough/Golborne tour fashion.
[The horn was fixed a little later that evening with the aid of Mike and his handy roll of electrical insulating tape. We were saved – thanks mate. But further on the DIY front we never did manage to get the heating going.]
Andy
Damn – I have just realised the we deliberately resheduled our YHs on Skye and Torridon so we could spend more time on these lovely islands. That means we have two more nights out here before we can head back to the ralative sanctuary (sanity?) of Skye.
Actually, I’m sure we’ll get to like these islands – at some point. The other two guys here have been singing the praises of Harris and Uist so we shall see.
9.00 PM
We’ve all been sat here for a couple of hours reading and stuff and ONE car has gone past. Ooh – the traffic!
DAY SEVEN
Weds, lunchtime.
Tarbet, Harris, Outer Hebrides. In the Fruit Tree tea house, early afternoon.
Andy
“Fuck the Stones.”
We have decided to bail off these bloody islands as it’s just too harsh to be biking out here.
This morning saw us head southwards from Kershader with our man Mike for the 5 mile return to the main road. He headed north...
2:45 PM
... at that point two blokes sat down with us at our table (the place was busy) and we chatted with them over a pleasant lunch (including gallons of tea). They were David and his dad Fred. Fred had cycle toured round Scotland in the early 60s. David lives on south Uist and is doing Christian charity work with alcoholic folk on the island. Most interesting to chat to a ‘local’. He and his wife also lived in Cardiff at the same time we did – in Cathays just around the corner from the Crwys Road Co-op!
Back to our bike day…
We are bailing as the biking is just… unpleasant. The wind is pretty ferocious and it’s just really hard work cycling. This may sound a tad wimpy but we have both decided that cycling for the sake of it is not what we are here for, especially in ridiculous conditions. We could have plodded on down to Bernaray but that’s on the exposed west and by all accounts things are even more grim down there. [It should be noted that the wind had changed from easterly the day before to an equally gale force westerly.] The forecast is better for tomorrow (Thursday) but David reckoned the weekend was not looking good at all. So, we will nip over to Uig this afternoon (the ferry from here is at 4pm) to the YH there, and then across Skye tomorrow, hopefully in decent conditions, with a tail wind. And, I should add, with “God’s speed” (cheers, David) - whatever that is in miles and hour.
Meanwhile we have ‘done’ Tarbet. Boy is it a happening place. I did buy a Harris tweed pouch thing as a souvernir in a craft/toy shop. (Note that Harris tweed is pound for pound more expensive than diamonds.) We also visited the one newsagents/grocer in town and the bustling tourist information center where Rich picked up a most interesting leaflet: “Cycle The Hebrides”. He is deeply engrossed in this right now so perhaps he can enlighten us as to exactly where it was we went wrong?
Rich
Yeah, well ‘Cycling the Hebrides’ is done carefully… there seem to be a few basic rules of thumb:
1. NEVER, EVER cycle from North to South (as we were doing).
2. NEVER cycle on the A859 (as we were doing).
3. Put your bike on a bus the instant the terrain looks lousy.
4. Take ‘picnics’ everywhere (or you will starve).
It’s quite telling that the “Cycle the Hebrides” leaflet only has one picture of anyone doing any actual cycling, and the people involved appear to be smiling somewhat ruefully though gritted teeth.
So, I’m with Andy – let’s get back towards the mainland which, for cycling, is much more pleasant as it is shielded from the North Atlantic by … The Outer Hebrides.
Andy
4:15
Over the sea to Skye. On the ferry HMS… whatever. Rich says that we now have the perfect view of the Outer Hebrides ie. from behind some double glazing. Of course now it all does look rather ruggedly inviting, but we know the truth so he has a point. Looking out in front of this tub there’s the very impressive view across the top of Skye with the Trotternish hills looming majestically, and also our first glimpse of the Cuillin way off in the distance. All look reasonably cloud-free from here, and let’s hope they stay that way.
Actually looking off the starboard side there does still seem to be some big black clouds over Harris.
Monday 12th June 3:30PM
Ullapool – The Return – Sat outside Youth Hostel.
Andy
Firstly, mention must be made of a lady we have just encountered. She was the first cycle tourist we have chatted to (except actually for the grumpy Belgians here the other night – but they don’t count). First impression was her bike – REALLY laden up – and we both thought “How is that little old lady managing to get round here on that thing?” Well, in conversation it turns out that she’s cycled here from fucking Carlisle and is “on her way round”, as in right round the bloody coast! AND she’s camping. Christ. Then she’s off to Norway on the ferry (from Newcastle) and plans to “do a bit” over there before heading down through Scandanavia. All on her bike. Fair play – that is THE thing to do on your retirement, but fucking hell lady we now feel a bit inadequate on our mere ten day tour.
Rich
Not ‘arf mate. We feel dead wimpy. But we told her of our 40 mph downhills, which she was a bit scared of, so perhaps she wasn’t that hard after all.
Up this morning and made what we hoped would be a monster protein – calorific breakfast: fried corned beef. Unfortunately it really wasn’t too pleasant (and Andy couldn’t quite stomach all of his) [it was foul] but it did the job as fuel.
Said goodbye to Dave and Caroline, and the students (who, given that they were up until 2am with their fire on the beach, were up promptly) and headed for the more main route, easterly, past Loch Assynt, to pick up the A road going south (A837). Good progress, fantsatic views of Suilven and the other not-quite-Munros and a couple of stops for a castle (Andy just LOVES castles) and a tea-shop where we camped out until the hail had gone past.
Andy
(The castle was pants.)
We are now being buzzed by the RAF and their pesky jet fighters. This somehow spoils the seaside ambience if you ask me.
Considering how ‘cold’ the weather is, once again I am being burned by the sun here. Just had a text from Jo saying that the weather is cack in Leeds. Good. It’s top up here.
Yep – the cycle today was pretty hard one again. The return down the main road to Ullapool made us realise just how much graft we put in yesterday before we set off on the single track road to nowhere down the loch side. It was 10 miles and on it today we had at least three 40 mph descents, long ones, up which we’d toiled yesterday on the way north. No wonder we were knackered after a mere 30 miles to Achmelvic.
We toyed briefly with the idea of moving our YH booking over to Stornoway tonight and getting the 5:30 ferry across. But our boy here tells us that there’s no SYHA place in Stornoway (we’d have to find an independent one) so we have opted to stop and chill in Ullapool. After all this is a holiday!
Rich
And it’s sunny, so I am gonna need an ice cream.
6:10 PM
Thoroughly cleaned and showered in the Youth Hostel the intrepid duo march off to the touristy shops and indulge in a postcard buying frenzy. Oh, yes. We are so hard. We had a rescheduling meeting and have reduced our last stop at Torridon down to a single night (Sunday) as this will give us another day on the outer islands – we were a bit oushed for time otherwise. Also we are now booked into Uig and Broadford on Skye, so we are pretty much fully planned. The Gatliff ‘simple’ hostels on Lewis, Harris and Uist don’t take bookings.
The weather forecast it has to be said is lousy, but it has been thus all the way so far, and (touch wood) we seem to have been OK. At least the wind is Westerly which is fine for us as we will be blown back across Skye!
Rich has just been on the t’internet at 50p for 10 minutes which is a tad costly. I’ve written a few postcards.
The plan is to go for some more award winning fish and chips tonight. Yum. And a beer. Or two. In the meantime we will retire once again to the comfy chairs.
Rich has just informed me that our gorgeous Scandanavia girls have arrived. About time too.
DAY FIVE
Monday 10:25 AM
Ferry Ullapool to Stornaway
Andy
On board SS… ferry, which is just about to disembark from Ullapool. Now, this DOES feel like a proper advanture all of a sudden.
Yesterday evening we hit the chippy once again. It is actually properly award winning. Oh yes. Radio 4 voted it ‘Britains Best Take Away’ in 2005. And to be fair the (cooked to order) fish and chips are very, very good.
Having taken said fish and chips back to the hostel we dined with two German girls to whom we’d been chatting earlier. Rich picked a fine Merlot from CostCutter to go with the food. Deserts were Muller Fruit Corners – we eat in style!
[A note here on the German girls. Two youngsters, one 19 and one 25, just off on a jolly on buses around Scotland staying at hostels. We met a lot of folk doing this – just out for an adventure in a ‘far way’ place. Pairs of girls in particular, having a great, easy, safe holiday. This goes to show the excellence of the SYHA system.]
After dinner we roamed round all the pubs looking for one which served proper beer. After rejecting three (The Arch - dead), The Seaforth and The Ceilidh Pub (full of old people) we arrived back at the FBI next to the hostel and had one there. [This pub it should be noted had a bunch of Yorkshire men and women serving behind the bar.] Again, the smoking ban in pubs should be loudly applauded here. I cannot wait for this rule to be law in England.
OK, we are off. 2hrs 45 mins to Stornoway and the forecast is for a ‘comfortable’ crossing. The weather is, as ever for a morning, dull and drizzly, but hopefully will sort itself out in the afternoon like it’s been doing each day so far.
In Scotland you continuously feel as if you are exisiting inside a postcard view. For instance last night the sunset in the harbour produced some really beautiful light conditions, and there was also an amazingly bright little rainbow which appeared in the middle of the harbour at one point.
Back from our beer we DID end up chatting to a pair of blonde Swedish girls. See – I told you there would be some.
We both slept well once again.
This morning we have been to the aid of a fellow biker chap who was in our dorm and who was having a wheel/tyre type issue. Turns out he’d been sold an unsuitable rim and then on top of that a crap tyre (his original tyre was fine). No tyres would fit on the rim unless he managed to get about 80 psi into it, which he couldn’t with his rubbish pump. Rich’s excellent mini track pump did the job no problem. The guy is still stuck though as he needs a new pump or preferably another, more suitable, rim. Ho hum.
Omlette, bacon and toast for breakfast once again and the boat tickets were obtained (£30 for an island “Hopper” package thing which was a bargain for our 3 boats). Bags packed, and here we are on the ferry heading out of port and into The Minch [the channel between the mainland and the Outer Hebrides]. There’s lots of pretty islands dotted all around [the Summer Isles] and the weather ahead looks like it consists mostly of blue sky.
DAY SIX
Tuesday 7:05pm
Kershader Community Hostel, South Lochs, Lewis.
Rich
We are in a strange place – not what we thought it would be and this is not where we were meant to stop...
For some reason we were the absolute last to leave the ferry (priority not given to cycles, then) and I noticed only one foreign vehicle on the car deck. Straight after hitting the off ramp it absolutely pelted with rain – NOT a nice welcome!! Just as we were getting lost in Stornaway and Land Rover pulled up alongside us and it was Andy’s mate Kev, who’s wife is from Lewis and they have a house on the (rather remote) west coast.
We went for shelter and lunch in a café and when it didn’t look like the weather was going to break, decided to head off regardless. The plan was to do Callanish. Unfortunately, when we missed a turn just out of town (I thought I saw it but it wasn’t signposted anyway). As we were down the road and the weather was still dismal the thought of going west and then having an almighty headwind later on the return was a bit too much to take, so we pressed on south.
There were breaks in the weather but it ws slow going and the open moorland offered little relief. The oddest thing has to be the ‘villages’. Sometimes you’ll get an impressive array of build up: “40” speed limit signs; countdown markers; names in English and Gaelic and for what? One house if you are lucky. It sums up one of Andy’s favourite phrases about some of the places we have passed through: “Is that it?”.
Andy
This area is deslolate. Not in the impressive fashion though – more in the crap kind. Just endless featurless open moorland – a whole lot of fuck all. Why the hell anyone would choose to live here I really do not know. I guess in nice weather – some sunshine and a little less of the cross-winds and freezing rain – the cycle south may have been quite pleasant through this alien landscape, but as it was it was just grim. I found myself really wanting to be cycling through the familiarity of mountain scenery once again: big hills and everything. The exposure and unfamiliarity of it all was rather unsettling.
Anyhow we eventually found our turning off the main road (the only road!) south to find this odd little place about 5 miles down a single track road. We’d been thinking traditional Black house with a thatched roof… and we are in an old school building. Well, not that old – something from the 60’s with classic Scottish white rendering etc. No bloody heating either: we cannot get it to work. At least the tumble dryer seems to be going for free (Rich: Hu-fucking-rah).
Out two fellow guests (note: only two as no one else is daft enough to want to seek this place out) are Nicole: a German nurse who speaks really wonderful English and who is bussing it round the islands; and Mike, a felllow bike tourer from Darlington. He is the most loaded up biker we have yet met: 4 panniers, back pack and a bum bag. Tent, walking gear and everything on board, and he’s on his own. Crikey. Both these guys seem decent people to be sharing with.
Ooh look – it’s peeing down again outside and five minutes ago it was blazing sunshine. Welcome to Lewis indeed.
Tomorrow we will head further south and see how far we can get. Bernaray would be the target but we can bail out once again (to another YH) a bit further north if needs be.
The happening night life of this place consists of the four of us sitting round eating polo mints and Rich’s packet of dried fruit. Rock and roll.
Rich
Another “funny” moment on the road was when we were pounding along against the sideways rain and looked up to see two roofers hard at work on a chimney. We thought they were nutters .. but consider this: at least they weren’t on holiday.
We also had a minor (but nevertheless significant) mechanical: my horn broke. So at the moment I cannot scare the sheep whitless or signal the arrival at our destination in the traditional Eatough/Golborne tour fashion.
[The horn was fixed a little later that evening with the aid of Mike and his handy roll of electrical insulating tape. We were saved – thanks mate. But further on the DIY front we never did manage to get the heating going.]
Andy
Damn – I have just realised the we deliberately resheduled our YHs on Skye and Torridon so we could spend more time on these lovely islands. That means we have two more nights out here before we can head back to the ralative sanctuary (sanity?) of Skye.
Actually, I’m sure we’ll get to like these islands – at some point. The other two guys here have been singing the praises of Harris and Uist so we shall see.
9.00 PM
We’ve all been sat here for a couple of hours reading and stuff and ONE car has gone past. Ooh – the traffic!
DAY SEVEN
Weds, lunchtime.
Tarbet, Harris, Outer Hebrides. In the Fruit Tree tea house, early afternoon.
Andy
“Fuck the Stones.”
We have decided to bail off these bloody islands as it’s just too harsh to be biking out here.
This morning saw us head southwards from Kershader with our man Mike for the 5 mile return to the main road. He headed north...
2:45 PM
... at that point two blokes sat down with us at our table (the place was busy) and we chatted with them over a pleasant lunch (including gallons of tea). They were David and his dad Fred. Fred had cycle toured round Scotland in the early 60s. David lives on south Uist and is doing Christian charity work with alcoholic folk on the island. Most interesting to chat to a ‘local’. He and his wife also lived in Cardiff at the same time we did – in Cathays just around the corner from the Crwys Road Co-op!
Back to our bike day…
We are bailing as the biking is just… unpleasant. The wind is pretty ferocious and it’s just really hard work cycling. This may sound a tad wimpy but we have both decided that cycling for the sake of it is not what we are here for, especially in ridiculous conditions. We could have plodded on down to Bernaray but that’s on the exposed west and by all accounts things are even more grim down there. [It should be noted that the wind had changed from easterly the day before to an equally gale force westerly.] The forecast is better for tomorrow (Thursday) but David reckoned the weekend was not looking good at all. So, we will nip over to Uig this afternoon (the ferry from here is at 4pm) to the YH there, and then across Skye tomorrow, hopefully in decent conditions, with a tail wind. And, I should add, with “God’s speed” (cheers, David) - whatever that is in miles and hour.
Meanwhile we have ‘done’ Tarbet. Boy is it a happening place. I did buy a Harris tweed pouch thing as a souvernir in a craft/toy shop. (Note that Harris tweed is pound for pound more expensive than diamonds.) We also visited the one newsagents/grocer in town and the bustling tourist information center where Rich picked up a most interesting leaflet: “Cycle The Hebrides”. He is deeply engrossed in this right now so perhaps he can enlighten us as to exactly where it was we went wrong?
Rich
Yeah, well ‘Cycling the Hebrides’ is done carefully… there seem to be a few basic rules of thumb:
1. NEVER, EVER cycle from North to South (as we were doing).
2. NEVER cycle on the A859 (as we were doing).
3. Put your bike on a bus the instant the terrain looks lousy.
4. Take ‘picnics’ everywhere (or you will starve).
It’s quite telling that the “Cycle the Hebrides” leaflet only has one picture of anyone doing any actual cycling, and the people involved appear to be smiling somewhat ruefully though gritted teeth.
So, I’m with Andy – let’s get back towards the mainland which, for cycling, is much more pleasant as it is shielded from the North Atlantic by … The Outer Hebrides.
Andy
4:15
Over the sea to Skye. On the ferry HMS… whatever. Rich says that we now have the perfect view of the Outer Hebrides ie. from behind some double glazing. Of course now it all does look rather ruggedly inviting, but we know the truth so he has a point. Looking out in front of this tub there’s the very impressive view across the top of Skye with the Trotternish hills looming majestically, and also our first glimpse of the Cuillin way off in the distance. All look reasonably cloud-free from here, and let’s hope they stay that way.
Actually looking off the starboard side there does still seem to be some big black clouds over Harris.
Scotland Part 1
DAY ONE
Friday 19th June 2006 10:20 PM
Youth Hostel, Torridon
Andy
Here we are in the Torridon YH having spent the day driving. It’s been a long one – we set off about 10AM and didn’t even get to Fort William until 5:30. Delays in the traffic at Glasgow and then an odd one in Glencoe when the traffic lights at the ongoing bridge rebuild got out of synch and the two sets of vehicles both arrived in the middle of a one lane road. Ho hum.
[One thing was proved at that incident and that was that drivers of large BMW cars cannot reverse to save their lives – I’ve never seen such a piss poor display of going backwards – how many cones did he hit – on both sides?!]
We pit stopped at Mike's place in Fort William and and having introduced me to his lovely family Mike made us a rather fine mince and tatties before directing us to Torridon via entirely the longest route possible: Inverness on the East coast. Err ... [Turns out this is the best way to go, so thanks Mike.] One thing we did discover was that the weather over there really is shite while over here in the lovely West it’s rather splendid.
The scenery is obviously jaw dropping with a ‘duvet’ of clouds apparently draped over the huge tops above Glen Torridon when we arrived.
The midges are out in full force already – just getting out of the car resulted in a rash of bites from the little fuckers.
The hostel seems very good, but there’s a large school party here so it remains to be seen how they behave.
[All the ‘proper’ Scottish Youth Hostels really were excellent – beautiful locations, well looked after; clean, tidy and they all had great staff. We mucked them about with moving bookings on several occasions as we changed our plans but without fail they sorted us out thanks to their web based booking system.]
One slight error on our behalf on the forward planning front – it’s self catering here and we have no food. Oops. (Free tea and coffee though which is great.) Luckily we have some bars and Rich’s bread to see us to the first spot of civilisation on tomorrows route which is Kinlochlewe: 10 miles back up Glen Torridon on the single track road.
Nice to see single track A roads with passing places – I miss that kind of Scottish Highland thing.
Deer all over the place round here. It’s hard to imagine that we are still on the same piece of land which contains Leeds and London etc. Scotland really is beautiful.
Rich is Studying the guide book looking for stone circles.
Rich
… and he’s blinking well found some and we are going to see them all!!!
This is a funny hostel – bit like a 1970s secondary school (possibly the feeling is helped by yelping pre-pubescents running amok (bless them)).
Andy has seen something else in my ‘Footprint’ guide: the bit about Applecross and the 2000ft (from sea level) climb up some “dramatic and torturous switchbacks”! But that’s next weekend – so that’s OK then?
(I’m a bit worried about Andy’s legs .. they are too big and strong and he’s going to leave me by the side of the road with the deer)
So, tomorrow should be fun: 90 miles, apparently- that’s a long way, but we’ve got to make coz our hostel bed is booked and there’s no backing out.
Andy
There’s a wooden cloud shaped pice of ‘art’ hanging on the wall in this seating area, and some rather bad taste curtains and tiles – they look like IKEA seconds from the 1980s. Still it’s all rather quaint in a dodgy wood panneled kind of fashion.
OK, yes, I hadn’t noticed the 2000ft climb on Applecross until just before, but that’s a week away and we will be dead fit by then…
We are now fully paid up members of the Scottish Youth Hostel Association (SYHA) by the way. And we are in room 10 where we’ve all but filled the floor with bags and panniers.
DAY TWO
Saturday 10th June 7:45 PM
Ullapool Youth Hostel
Andy
Neither of us slept very well last night for no apparent reason. Then I nicked my breakfast (bananas and toast) from the aformentioned children. Not a good start to the day but then again they should have been up earlier, the lazy gits (and they had tons of food). So, it was with shameful hearts but full bellies that we rolled out of Torridon. Sort of.
The weather looked ropey when we got up (at 7am I should add) – dull, drizzly and breezy. Yuck.
We did faff for an amazingly long time for the first load up of the bikes but were on the road for 8:30 which was excellent.
The weather wasn’t too bad in the end as we trundled back up Glen Torridon (dull but no rain or wind). The only thing concerning us was the deer and whether they were “frollicking” or “prancing” as they dashed across the road in front of us. Luckily they were of little threat and Rich didn’t need to resort to The Horn.
Rich
Ten miles after leaving Torridon we stopped for brekky at Kinlochlewe. The establishment was a shop-cum-café, and as we were settling in and large troup of rough hewn, loud folk wandered in, laughing and jeering each other and generally swamping the place. Turns out they were the stuntmen & horse handlers crew up here on laocation for some fantasy film or other (“Stardust”) starring Robert de Niro and Michelle Pfeiffer. Anyway, they were a friendly bunch and eventually insisted on buying our breakfast. And we had both thought they were Pikeys…
Andy
So, £5 of the budget of Stardust (what a shit name for a film) went on our tea an bacon & egg butties.
We rolled on. And it was all very pretty. And not long after the sun came out, and remarkably stayed that way for the rest of the day. There was a cool breeze at times but it’s genarally been hot, and we got our legs out at some point to celebrate.
Once at the coast the scenery really was amazing. Many “Wow” moments were experienced where we rounded a headland or topped out on a rise to reveal a new beautiful bay/island/beach(“bitch”)/mountain – or any combination of all of the above. One inlet in particular, Gruinard Bay, with it’s huge beach and dramatic backdrop of the Fisherfield hills was just stunning (an "inlet of distinction"). Beautiful colours too – the sea in particular.
But it’s above all been a LONG day, and to say that the coast road is rather hilly would be a slight understament. Our lunch stop was about 2pm at a B&B at a place called Laide. Delicious salmon and cream cheese sandwiches (the lady was happy to do Rich’s on his own bread) and LOTS of tea. At that point we’d done about 50 miles, so we were over half way, but with lots still to come. Including as it turned out two big climbs into and out of Little Loch Broom. The latter really was enormous and took forever.
Rich
…and ever, and ever. In short, it killed me. Or more specifically my knees, which brought our speed right down and necessitated several choccy stops.
We rolled into Ullapool at about 6:15 PM – later that we’d anticipated, but seeing as Andy’s computer was by then reading 92.45 miles (much of it the uppy-downy-flippin’-uppy-again variety) not ‘arf respectable mate.
The hostel is very sweet, right on the sea front and the view across the loch is rather impressive.
We threw on some clean chuddies and headed directly for what were were reliably informed were “award winning” fish and chips. Rather difficult to tell to be honest as we wolfed then down so quick!
Andy
Now we are sat in the comfy chairs, and to be honest I’m unlikely to ever get out of this one. Rich is reading “Land Rover World” (August 2005 edition) and, sadly, looks engrossed.
The view out of the window from this seat is of a beautiful sea loch, fishing boats and a backdrop of enormo hills. That’s Scotland out there then.
We are booked back in here on Monday night and plan to head up to the YH at Achmelvic, just north of Lochinver which I reckon is a mere 40k (25 miles). Piece of piss after the 90+ (and almost exactly 7 hours in the saddle) of today. Bit of a rest really!
10:20PM
Andy
On a pub crawl. OK, we’ve been to two. This one is the Ferry Boat Inn (FBI) about 2 doors down from the Youth Hostel. The other one was next to the award winning chippy.
It should be noted that all Scottish pubs are non-smoking which I have to say is a truly excellent rule, especially when you are on tour and have only one set of ‘going out’ clothes.
We did forget to mention that the film crew (remember them, from Kinlochlewe earlier on? Keep up.) sent two of the girls who were with them into the kitchen to help feed their own café invasion. This was the source of much sexist merriment as the girls (joining in the joke) delivered everyone’s (including our) food, tea etc. Most amusing.
DAY THREE
Sunday 11th June 4:15 PM
Achmelvic Beach Youth Hostel, Wester Ross.
Andy
A reasonably early start after a solid touring breakfast of a whole packet of bacon and a 6 egg omelette between us. The hostel had a party of 40 students from university in Edinburgh staying so things were a tad busy in the kitchen for a while.
We eventually got on the road at about 11 into pretty much the same dull and drizzly conditions as yesterday.
The first part of it was on the A road (A835) straight out north, and after 10 miles or so we turned off onto a real “road to nowhere” across west [round the north of Loch Lurgainn] to the coast. This single track road passes between sonme of the really big sandstone tops which rise dramatically from seemingly nothing in Inverpoly Forest. It was amazing stuff.
At one point (after a sandwich stop outside a particulary isolated house) we climbed up from the loch to a view point which finally revealed the mighty Suilven and it’s equally statuesque companions all stretched out around us to the north and east, plus view right down to the coast (the seaside!) over to our left. Another real “Wow” point.
We are sunbathing here by the way. The weather turns very chilly though when the sun disappears, and doubly so in the stiff breeze blowing from the north. At present we are sat on some rocks with our toes in the sand, out of the wind; with waves gently rolling over the white sands from the remarkably blue sea to our right. And it is red hot.
Once we’d turned out of the hills (where we’d been rained on a couple of times – just showers – and it was rather chilly so we’d put all our warm gear on) all of a sudden we were in the sun so we stopped just after the Inverpoly Lodge and stripped back down to shorts for the rest of the day’s biking. This was a beautiful section of single track road (much of it nicely resurfaced) in and out of sea inlets, and it undulated in that way that only Scottish coast roads do – up and over headlands – so it was hard work. Lovely though.
Uh – oh. A big cloud. Best get a shirt on. And perhaps my fleece.
[I should add here that everyone else (which makes it sould like there were crowds there - "the few other folk we saw" would perhaps be a better term) were generally decked out in fleece/GoreTex and hats for their visit to the sands.]
Rich
You have to be very hard to be a sunbather in Scotland. We haven’t seen many others so far. OK: none. A well as the cold you occasionally get sand blasted which just makes it all the more interesting.
We are here on the beach nursing our injuries from yesterday – the tendons in the back of the knees ache. We cannot get into the hostel for a healing warm shower, because it’s not open until 5 o’clock….
Andy
7:15 PM
Tonight we are shariing this cute little Hostel with a party of recently finished their finals students from Edinburgh. Actually, there’s only 10 of them this time and they seem most pleasant. We have been offered beers from them which is most kind.
Our genial hosts – Dave and Caroline - are great. Lots of chat and a great welcome from the. It’s a small place so it looks like they just join in with the guests.
Just bought some postcards of the beach so best write them.
[Also stopping at this hostel that night were 3 older women who were travelling round by car and doing some wallking. We chatted to them a while and they were very nce. There was another young couple as well who didn’t have much to say for themselves.]
Dave and Caroline had been in Canada for several years with a business until visa issues basically forced them out so they were doing the Youth Hostel warden thing for this summer before likely travelling off again. (They’d also lived for a while in New Zealand.)
[Achmelvic was the most basic Youth Hostel we visted with an outside loo (just the one for everyone) and shower building (same again – just one). It is a large beach hut, basically and closed in the winter. It is in such a wonderful place though. The second beach, just over to the left of the main cove was even more isolated and had pretty large waves rolling into it. Utterly beautiful, and the kind of special place which made touring up there so unique.]
Friday 19th June 2006 10:20 PM
Youth Hostel, Torridon
Andy
Here we are in the Torridon YH having spent the day driving. It’s been a long one – we set off about 10AM and didn’t even get to Fort William until 5:30. Delays in the traffic at Glasgow and then an odd one in Glencoe when the traffic lights at the ongoing bridge rebuild got out of synch and the two sets of vehicles both arrived in the middle of a one lane road. Ho hum.
[One thing was proved at that incident and that was that drivers of large BMW cars cannot reverse to save their lives – I’ve never seen such a piss poor display of going backwards – how many cones did he hit – on both sides?!]
We pit stopped at Mike's place in Fort William and and having introduced me to his lovely family Mike made us a rather fine mince and tatties before directing us to Torridon via entirely the longest route possible: Inverness on the East coast. Err ... [Turns out this is the best way to go, so thanks Mike.] One thing we did discover was that the weather over there really is shite while over here in the lovely West it’s rather splendid.
The scenery is obviously jaw dropping with a ‘duvet’ of clouds apparently draped over the huge tops above Glen Torridon when we arrived.
The midges are out in full force already – just getting out of the car resulted in a rash of bites from the little fuckers.
The hostel seems very good, but there’s a large school party here so it remains to be seen how they behave.
[All the ‘proper’ Scottish Youth Hostels really were excellent – beautiful locations, well looked after; clean, tidy and they all had great staff. We mucked them about with moving bookings on several occasions as we changed our plans but without fail they sorted us out thanks to their web based booking system.]
One slight error on our behalf on the forward planning front – it’s self catering here and we have no food. Oops. (Free tea and coffee though which is great.) Luckily we have some bars and Rich’s bread to see us to the first spot of civilisation on tomorrows route which is Kinlochlewe: 10 miles back up Glen Torridon on the single track road.
Nice to see single track A roads with passing places – I miss that kind of Scottish Highland thing.
Deer all over the place round here. It’s hard to imagine that we are still on the same piece of land which contains Leeds and London etc. Scotland really is beautiful.
Rich is Studying the guide book looking for stone circles.
Rich
… and he’s blinking well found some and we are going to see them all!!!
This is a funny hostel – bit like a 1970s secondary school (possibly the feeling is helped by yelping pre-pubescents running amok (bless them)).
Andy has seen something else in my ‘Footprint’ guide: the bit about Applecross and the 2000ft (from sea level) climb up some “dramatic and torturous switchbacks”! But that’s next weekend – so that’s OK then?
(I’m a bit worried about Andy’s legs .. they are too big and strong and he’s going to leave me by the side of the road with the deer)
So, tomorrow should be fun: 90 miles, apparently- that’s a long way, but we’ve got to make coz our hostel bed is booked and there’s no backing out.
Andy
There’s a wooden cloud shaped pice of ‘art’ hanging on the wall in this seating area, and some rather bad taste curtains and tiles – they look like IKEA seconds from the 1980s. Still it’s all rather quaint in a dodgy wood panneled kind of fashion.
OK, yes, I hadn’t noticed the 2000ft climb on Applecross until just before, but that’s a week away and we will be dead fit by then…
We are now fully paid up members of the Scottish Youth Hostel Association (SYHA) by the way. And we are in room 10 where we’ve all but filled the floor with bags and panniers.
DAY TWO
Saturday 10th June 7:45 PM
Ullapool Youth Hostel
Andy
Neither of us slept very well last night for no apparent reason. Then I nicked my breakfast (bananas and toast) from the aformentioned children. Not a good start to the day but then again they should have been up earlier, the lazy gits (and they had tons of food). So, it was with shameful hearts but full bellies that we rolled out of Torridon. Sort of.
The weather looked ropey when we got up (at 7am I should add) – dull, drizzly and breezy. Yuck.
We did faff for an amazingly long time for the first load up of the bikes but were on the road for 8:30 which was excellent.
The weather wasn’t too bad in the end as we trundled back up Glen Torridon (dull but no rain or wind). The only thing concerning us was the deer and whether they were “frollicking” or “prancing” as they dashed across the road in front of us. Luckily they were of little threat and Rich didn’t need to resort to The Horn.
Rich
Ten miles after leaving Torridon we stopped for brekky at Kinlochlewe. The establishment was a shop-cum-café, and as we were settling in and large troup of rough hewn, loud folk wandered in, laughing and jeering each other and generally swamping the place. Turns out they were the stuntmen & horse handlers crew up here on laocation for some fantasy film or other (“Stardust”) starring Robert de Niro and Michelle Pfeiffer. Anyway, they were a friendly bunch and eventually insisted on buying our breakfast. And we had both thought they were Pikeys…
Andy
So, £5 of the budget of Stardust (what a shit name for a film) went on our tea an bacon & egg butties.
We rolled on. And it was all very pretty. And not long after the sun came out, and remarkably stayed that way for the rest of the day. There was a cool breeze at times but it’s genarally been hot, and we got our legs out at some point to celebrate.
Once at the coast the scenery really was amazing. Many “Wow” moments were experienced where we rounded a headland or topped out on a rise to reveal a new beautiful bay/island/beach(“bitch”)/mountain – or any combination of all of the above. One inlet in particular, Gruinard Bay, with it’s huge beach and dramatic backdrop of the Fisherfield hills was just stunning (an "inlet of distinction"). Beautiful colours too – the sea in particular.
But it’s above all been a LONG day, and to say that the coast road is rather hilly would be a slight understament. Our lunch stop was about 2pm at a B&B at a place called Laide. Delicious salmon and cream cheese sandwiches (the lady was happy to do Rich’s on his own bread) and LOTS of tea. At that point we’d done about 50 miles, so we were over half way, but with lots still to come. Including as it turned out two big climbs into and out of Little Loch Broom. The latter really was enormous and took forever.
Rich
…and ever, and ever. In short, it killed me. Or more specifically my knees, which brought our speed right down and necessitated several choccy stops.
We rolled into Ullapool at about 6:15 PM – later that we’d anticipated, but seeing as Andy’s computer was by then reading 92.45 miles (much of it the uppy-downy-flippin’-uppy-again variety) not ‘arf respectable mate.
The hostel is very sweet, right on the sea front and the view across the loch is rather impressive.
We threw on some clean chuddies and headed directly for what were were reliably informed were “award winning” fish and chips. Rather difficult to tell to be honest as we wolfed then down so quick!
Andy
Now we are sat in the comfy chairs, and to be honest I’m unlikely to ever get out of this one. Rich is reading “Land Rover World” (August 2005 edition) and, sadly, looks engrossed.
The view out of the window from this seat is of a beautiful sea loch, fishing boats and a backdrop of enormo hills. That’s Scotland out there then.
We are booked back in here on Monday night and plan to head up to the YH at Achmelvic, just north of Lochinver which I reckon is a mere 40k (25 miles). Piece of piss after the 90+ (and almost exactly 7 hours in the saddle) of today. Bit of a rest really!
10:20PM
Andy
On a pub crawl. OK, we’ve been to two. This one is the Ferry Boat Inn (FBI) about 2 doors down from the Youth Hostel. The other one was next to the award winning chippy.
It should be noted that all Scottish pubs are non-smoking which I have to say is a truly excellent rule, especially when you are on tour and have only one set of ‘going out’ clothes.
We did forget to mention that the film crew (remember them, from Kinlochlewe earlier on? Keep up.) sent two of the girls who were with them into the kitchen to help feed their own café invasion. This was the source of much sexist merriment as the girls (joining in the joke) delivered everyone’s (including our) food, tea etc. Most amusing.
DAY THREE
Sunday 11th June 4:15 PM
Achmelvic Beach Youth Hostel, Wester Ross.
Andy
A reasonably early start after a solid touring breakfast of a whole packet of bacon and a 6 egg omelette between us. The hostel had a party of 40 students from university in Edinburgh staying so things were a tad busy in the kitchen for a while.
We eventually got on the road at about 11 into pretty much the same dull and drizzly conditions as yesterday.
The first part of it was on the A road (A835) straight out north, and after 10 miles or so we turned off onto a real “road to nowhere” across west [round the north of Loch Lurgainn] to the coast. This single track road passes between sonme of the really big sandstone tops which rise dramatically from seemingly nothing in Inverpoly Forest. It was amazing stuff.
At one point (after a sandwich stop outside a particulary isolated house) we climbed up from the loch to a view point which finally revealed the mighty Suilven and it’s equally statuesque companions all stretched out around us to the north and east, plus view right down to the coast (the seaside!) over to our left. Another real “Wow” point.
We are sunbathing here by the way. The weather turns very chilly though when the sun disappears, and doubly so in the stiff breeze blowing from the north. At present we are sat on some rocks with our toes in the sand, out of the wind; with waves gently rolling over the white sands from the remarkably blue sea to our right. And it is red hot.
Once we’d turned out of the hills (where we’d been rained on a couple of times – just showers – and it was rather chilly so we’d put all our warm gear on) all of a sudden we were in the sun so we stopped just after the Inverpoly Lodge and stripped back down to shorts for the rest of the day’s biking. This was a beautiful section of single track road (much of it nicely resurfaced) in and out of sea inlets, and it undulated in that way that only Scottish coast roads do – up and over headlands – so it was hard work. Lovely though.
Uh – oh. A big cloud. Best get a shirt on. And perhaps my fleece.
[I should add here that everyone else (which makes it sould like there were crowds there - "the few other folk we saw" would perhaps be a better term) were generally decked out in fleece/GoreTex and hats for their visit to the sands.]
Rich
You have to be very hard to be a sunbather in Scotland. We haven’t seen many others so far. OK: none. A well as the cold you occasionally get sand blasted which just makes it all the more interesting.
We are here on the beach nursing our injuries from yesterday – the tendons in the back of the knees ache. We cannot get into the hostel for a healing warm shower, because it’s not open until 5 o’clock….
Andy
7:15 PM
Tonight we are shariing this cute little Hostel with a party of recently finished their finals students from Edinburgh. Actually, there’s only 10 of them this time and they seem most pleasant. We have been offered beers from them which is most kind.
Our genial hosts – Dave and Caroline - are great. Lots of chat and a great welcome from the. It’s a small place so it looks like they just join in with the guests.
Just bought some postcards of the beach so best write them.
[Also stopping at this hostel that night were 3 older women who were travelling round by car and doing some wallking. We chatted to them a while and they were very nce. There was another young couple as well who didn’t have much to say for themselves.]
Dave and Caroline had been in Canada for several years with a business until visa issues basically forced them out so they were doing the Youth Hostel warden thing for this summer before likely travelling off again. (They’d also lived for a while in New Zealand.)
[Achmelvic was the most basic Youth Hostel we visted with an outside loo (just the one for everyone) and shower building (same again – just one). It is a large beach hut, basically and closed in the winter. It is in such a wonderful place though. The second beach, just over to the left of the main cove was even more isolated and had pretty large waves rolling into it. Utterly beautiful, and the kind of special place which made touring up there so unique.]
Monday, June 19, 2006
Seven days of biking
"Coast to Coast". Three words which do little to convey the sheer EFFORT we had to put into our week long jolly across the country by mountain bike. Beforehand I had thought "how hard can a few days of mountain biking be?" I mean, days in the hills is something I am used to so this should be an easy, fun week with some mates, right? Ok, Fun it was - but the route ("The Way is The Route and The Route is The Way...") was a monster and was probably the least direct piece of cross country navigation I have ever seen!
But I guess we got intimately acquainted with all the best bits of the areas we visited, and there is some amazing biking to be found around the following:
The South Lakes (Ennerdale, (Black Sail Pass) Wasdale, Eskdale, Langdales, Windermere, Dunnerdale, Walna Scar, Conniston, Mosedale and a few more I've missed out; The Pennines (via Tan Hill); The Dales (round Swaledale) and seemingly all of the North Yorkshire Moors.
The weather was just about perfect. A little drizzle twice and too hot at times, but ridiculously good really. We managed a proper swim in the sea at St Bees head before setting off and a 'dip' in the North Sea at the end it was that good.
We had one serious accident on day one resulting in a badly sprained ankle and an early lift home for one of the guys, plus a serious bike mechanical which needed a day out at a bike shop for someone else. There were a few minor 'offs' along the way and several of the more painful variety in the last couple of days. Not too bad considering how technical some of the terrain was.
It's odd to travel like that in your own 'bubble' across country and not see many people at all all day. For instance I'll have to watch my language though as we developed a quite extraordinary array of new expletives which were generally coined at the top of the huge climbs we seemed to do each day. Each brutal effort forced us into yet unchartered swearing territory and had us in fits of laughter as someone came out with a phrase even more appalling than we had previously thought possible to describe the effort they had put into it. But you had to be there, and we really had to watch our mouths when we got to 'civilisation'.
We stopped mainly at B&Bs with a few youth Hostels chucked in. It has to be said that the English Youth Hostels are not a patch on their Scottish counterparts. Windermere and Boggle Hole are partcularly horrible, but top marks to the amazing one at Kirby Stephen (a converted church with a lovely warden - Clare) which sadly is due to close later this year. We devoured lots of fried breakfasts, lots of pub meals, and of course lots of flapjack.
I have 'earned' a rather patchy biker sun tan now with the shorts, socks and glove lines and this, along with a startling collection of cuts bruises and scabs, is not the ideal summer look! Still, I have plenty of time to patch it up, and it's a small price to pay for an extraordinary week of adventure.
So, it's now back to what passes for normality these days. Ho hum.
But I guess we got intimately acquainted with all the best bits of the areas we visited, and there is some amazing biking to be found around the following:
The South Lakes (Ennerdale, (Black Sail Pass) Wasdale, Eskdale, Langdales, Windermere, Dunnerdale, Walna Scar, Conniston, Mosedale and a few more I've missed out; The Pennines (via Tan Hill); The Dales (round Swaledale) and seemingly all of the North Yorkshire Moors.
The weather was just about perfect. A little drizzle twice and too hot at times, but ridiculously good really. We managed a proper swim in the sea at St Bees head before setting off and a 'dip' in the North Sea at the end it was that good.
We had one serious accident on day one resulting in a badly sprained ankle and an early lift home for one of the guys, plus a serious bike mechanical which needed a day out at a bike shop for someone else. There were a few minor 'offs' along the way and several of the more painful variety in the last couple of days. Not too bad considering how technical some of the terrain was.
It's odd to travel like that in your own 'bubble' across country and not see many people at all all day. For instance I'll have to watch my language though as we developed a quite extraordinary array of new expletives which were generally coined at the top of the huge climbs we seemed to do each day. Each brutal effort forced us into yet unchartered swearing territory and had us in fits of laughter as someone came out with a phrase even more appalling than we had previously thought possible to describe the effort they had put into it. But you had to be there, and we really had to watch our mouths when we got to 'civilisation'.
We stopped mainly at B&Bs with a few youth Hostels chucked in. It has to be said that the English Youth Hostels are not a patch on their Scottish counterparts. Windermere and Boggle Hole are partcularly horrible, but top marks to the amazing one at Kirby Stephen (a converted church with a lovely warden - Clare) which sadly is due to close later this year. We devoured lots of fried breakfasts, lots of pub meals, and of course lots of flapjack.
I have 'earned' a rather patchy biker sun tan now with the shorts, socks and glove lines and this, along with a startling collection of cuts bruises and scabs, is not the ideal summer look! Still, I have plenty of time to patch it up, and it's a small price to pay for an extraordinary week of adventure.
So, it's now back to what passes for normality these days. Ho hum.
Thursday, June 08, 2006
The joy of front crawl
Well, I feel I've finally cracked front crawl. I started up the swimming about 18 months ago, not being able to do a length of it without a breather, and although I've been able to do the (triathlon) required 1500m (60 lengths) for a while now it's never really... flowed. It's never seemed quite right, and has nearly always been really hard work. However, in the last couple of weeks it's all just clicked - the rotation; the stretching out; the pointy thumb first hand insertion thing above your head; the pull down in the right line; the push back; the breathing to both sides; the kicking from the hips... and all the rest of it.
I really never used to enjoy swimming but I have to say that getting to grips with the sheer technicality of front crawl has seen me go from initial frustration (and exhaustion) to fascination (as I got fitter) and more recently real satisfaction as it's all come together.
I actually like swimming now. I never thought I'd hear myself say that.
I really never used to enjoy swimming but I have to say that getting to grips with the sheer technicality of front crawl has seen me go from initial frustration (and exhaustion) to fascination (as I got fitter) and more recently real satisfaction as it's all come together.
I actually like swimming now. I never thought I'd hear myself say that.
Friday, June 02, 2006
The Cuillin
Some of you may recognise this view. It was a real wrench to just bike past Sligachan as it's such an iconic place and usually the end of a long journey. Not this time though.
Wester Ross
Ooh - the traffic! Rich toils in the heat, again in Wester Ross with Skye in the backgound.
Gruinard Bay
Me on me bike approaching the lovely Griunard bay in Wester Ross. Suilven in the backgound on the left.
North West Coast escapades
Back to reality after the tour of Scotland. It really was excellent and we covered about 400 miles in 7 days of biking. There (as ever) was a tour diary kept by the pair of us, and it's being typed up as we speak so I'll likely publish it in installments on here.
Suffice to say that North West Scotland is stunningly beautiful and markedly hilly! The weather in the main was remarkably good - even better when we were getting reports of it being wet and miserable in Yorkshire :-)
Our only real conditions problem was on the Outer Hebrides with two days of biking down to Harris from Stornoway, through vicious cross winds and freezing rain. Needless to say we bailed off onto lovely Skye, and all was well once again.
We stopped in a string of Scottish Youth Hostels are these are highly recommended.
... and so onto the next tour starting very soon :-)
Suffice to say that North West Scotland is stunningly beautiful and markedly hilly! The weather in the main was remarkably good - even better when we were getting reports of it being wet and miserable in Yorkshire :-)
Our only real conditions problem was on the Outer Hebrides with two days of biking down to Harris from Stornoway, through vicious cross winds and freezing rain. Needless to say we bailed off onto lovely Skye, and all was well once again.
We stopped in a string of Scottish Youth Hostels are these are highly recommended.
... and so onto the next tour starting very soon :-)
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