Beyond the Avonmouth Bridge and then on to Portishead and
then Clevedon was pretty lovely with the evening sun still high in the sky, and
warm too. I headed inland from there as I had to avoid the M5, and so set off
towards Yatton and Congresbury. I had found that as I headed further south the evenings
really started drawing in quickly – in Northern Scotland the evenings seemed to
go on for a long time, and even when it was dark there seemed to be some residual
light, but the further south I travelled, the earlier it got dark and the
darker it seemed too - still managed to watch some amazing sunsets though! From Congresbury I hoped to be able to swing by a village
called Sandford, just so I could take a pic of the village sign, as part of my
Hot Fuzz interest – sadly the sun was going down though, and I wanted to get
further along my route before stopping for the night.
Saturday, 31 August 2013
Day 13. Monmouth to Brean.
Friday, 30 August 2013
Day 12. Clun to Monmouth.
I had a great night’s sleep, but for some reason the nicer
the sleep then the harder it seems to be to get going the following day. In
this instance I don’t think it helped how lovely a spot I was camping in! Once
I was ready to get going though, my sleepiness and lethargy soon evaporated as
the pedals started turning along with the wheels. It didn’t take long to reach
Leintwardine along gently downhill and flat roads and then on beyond there to
Wigmore.
It was on the outskirts of Wigmore that I first saw large
groups of cyclists, all going the other way. At first I wondered if they were
just riders from a local cycle club, but it soon became apparent that they were
cyclists doing the same trip as me, but in reverse, and with back up, as none
of them were carrying any kit. They all seemed to be enjoying themselves, cruising
along with the wind at their backs, and I got lots of waves and smiles as I
passed them. I was also surprised at just how many women were cycling, close to
half I would guess, which is great for cycling in my opinion!
About 10 miles or so I took a wrong turn after misreading my
map, finding myself heading off towards Eardisland and a few miles of very
narrow lanes and ridgeline roads that rose and fell sharply in quick
succession. Back on the right path but getting low on water on a hot day I
decided to stop for lunch in a charming village called Weobley, a former
village of the year winner – and yet another village that reminded me of Hot
Fuzz – the Simon Pegg police comedy.
Thursday, 29 August 2013
Day 11. Chester to Clun.


These random conversations I had with people were really
great, people really open up and share something of their own lives and I
always felt very lucky that people were willing to chat with me, a complete
stranger – I suppose that it can be easier to chat to someone unknown to
yourself at times, and certainly people disclosed sensitive and personal
information to me, but then my livelihood no doubt has something to do with
this too. I really enjoyed the conversations I had with everyone I spoke to,
and I think that my natural curiosity about people and their stories was able
to come to the fore much more than in my day to day life, but then, traveling
on your own does open you up to chatting with people you might not approach
otherwise. Each of the conversations I had with complete strangers was a
highlight of the trip though, and I can honestly say that the single best thing
about the trip was having my faith in the kindness of strangers renewed.
Camp all set up and dinner eaten it was more or less time to
get some sleep. Whilst the village of Clun was another highlight of the trip,
there was one downside to the location – I had absolutely no mobile phone
reception, and the phone box up the road was disconnected – and so this night
was the only night I wasn’t able to contact and speak to Alice L
Wednesday, 28 August 2013
Day 10. Garstang to Chester.
I woke to a cool morning, with lots of condensation in the
tent – evidently it had been a cold night with little cloud cover – fortunately
I hadn’t noticed at all, tucked up all warm in my tent. I was keen to get going
this morning as I knew that I would see my wife at the end of the days’ ride!
Friends of ours; Claire and Eug had suggested some time ago the idea of the
three of them coming to meet me somewhere on my trip. We’d originally decided
we’d meet in the Welsh town of Welshpool, but due to my falling behind the
schedule we’d had to re-think the plans. I’d managed to put in two long mileage
days and so was potentially only a full day behind the original schedule, and
we agreed to meet in Chester, or just outside the town at a nearby campsite.
The days’ riding was nice and flat, although quite built up
and industrialised; with towns blending into one another and lots of business and
retail parks – with the ensuing traffic too! Still, the people I met were among
the friendliest! I was cycling through the town of Preston when at a set of
traffic lights I was aware of a young guy leaning out of the passenger window
of a small car – back home I would instantly think it would be someone about to
try and push me from my bike, (and I’m from sleepy Cambridge) but this trip has
taught me that 99 out of a hundred times, people are friendly and nice. Anyway,
this young guy was clearly in the car with his dad, and the two of them were
enthusiastically asking questions about my trip and the charities I was raising
money for (the custom designed cycling jersey I was wearing was a help here)
and as the lights turned green they leaned out of the car, shook my hand and
gave me a handful of coins to go towards my charities! I was utterly
flabbergasted, and genuinely don’t think you would get the same reaction in the
South, or the South East/East Anglia!
Later, as I was cycling along another fairly busy road I
became aware of a cyclist behind me – usually fellow cyclists zoom straight
past with just a nod or quick hello – but this chap came alongside me, and
stayed there. We got chatting, again about my trip and experiences along the
way, and he told me of his own recent charitable cycling trip to the Himalaya –
sounded like extraordinary stuff! We cycled alongside each other for about 5
miles, before we stopped and had ice-creams and coffee at a café he
recommended. It was so lovely to have the time to chat and stop with this guy,
to learn something of his life, and that of his family too.
Break over and back to the pedals though and I was soon
making good progress towards Warrington, through more built up areas, but that
was fine as the road was level and I had somewhere to be!
From Warrington onwards the wind picked up, as did the
gradient – but not by much and I managed to reach Chester in time for rush
hour. Chester itself looked to be a nice town, although I can’t say that I saw
any of the cast of Hollyoaks! I didn’t have far to go now, but in my haste to
reach the campsite I managed to take a wrong turn, winding up on a very busy
duel carriageway and heading towards Wrexham! After a few miles I was sure I’d
made a wrong turn – it’s funny but sometimes whilst you know you’ve made a
mistake, you keep going in the hope that you’re instincts are wrong – they rarely
are though, or at least that was my experience! I managed to get across four
lanes of heavy traffic without being squashed, and made my way back towards the
campsite, where Alice and our friends Claire and Eug were ready and set up to
meet me. Showered and clean, I was ready to be reunited with my wife after over
a week apart - the longest we’d been apart since living together. The four of
us went for a lovely meal in a local pub (certainly the nicest food I’d had in
a while!), and a couple of Guinness’ later it was time for sleep! Sleep that wasn't on the thinnest Thermarest on the market was soooo good, as was sleeping next to my beautiful wife :)
Tuesday, 27 August 2013
Day 9. Burgh by Sands to Garstang.
Despite getting an early night and sleeping well, I didn’t
get going until quite late today. I chatted to Alice again in the morning to
discuss different route options – I had wondered if it might be easier to
follow the coastline around Cumbria, instead of heading inland and up and over
the higher roads of the Lake District. It turned out that going along the coast
would be many more miles, and so I headed off inland, over the hills of northern
Cumbria. It took most of the morning to reach Penrith, and I was feeling really
exhausted – time to refuel and stock up on food for the rest of the day too!
Refuelled and with more energy I headed out of Penrith,
south along the old A6. The road steadily rose up until I reached the village
of Shap, skirting along the M6. I can’t say I was feeling much love for the
very eastern side of the Lakes – it just didn’t feel very Lakes-esque, much
more like Yorkshire – the past few days had felt a bit underwhelming, passing
through rural but very agricultural areas that smelt rather fragrant was a bit
of a come down from the far north-west of Scotland, and the rugged beauty found
there. The fact that I was now back in England was a mini achievement in its
own right, but I also felt that the highlight of the trip was already behind
me. Anyway, onwards I went and past Shap the road headed downhill again, all
the way into Kendal. I couldn’t find any mint cake shops, so just carried on.
It was now the early evening and the roads were pretty busy with commuters.
Monday, 26 August 2013
Day 8. Kilmarnock to Burgh by Sands.
South of Dumfries the road flattened out, to the extent that
without the sheep populating the fields it could easily have been the fens of East
Anglia! My keen weather watching paid off and I was rewarded with a great
tailwind along the coastal road between Dumfries and Annan, and the sun came
out to play too! I stopped at Tesco in Annan for supplies and then made my way
along the last few flat miles of Scotland.
I arrived at the campsite with over an hour of warm daylight
left, which was great as I could actually air out my tent and dry a few items
in the sun. The campsite had sold itself as an upmarket “glamp-site” and I was
really looking forward to a lovely and luxurious shower. Sadly, but not
unexpectedly, the site was nothing of the sort – just a family trying to squeeze
some extra cash out of their farm and horse
riding business. As a result the facilities were actually pretty basic, and
some way away from the camping field – the shower was lovely and hot though,
and the owner did agree to wash my dirty cycling clothes after I bribed her
with offering to give her the rest of my detergent as a thank you – no problem
for me, and it was so nice to wear clean clothes for the next few days too!
Camping early enough to watch the sun set was great,
especially as I was clean for the first time in days. Being able to cook my
dinner without having to resort to torch-light was pretty good too, along with
the ability to charge my phones too – maybe it was a glamp-site after all?
Sunday, 25 August 2013
Day 7. Falls of Falloch to Kilmarnock.
Setting up didn’t take any time at all and I was soon nicely
ensconced in my sleeping bag, food consumed and wife chatted to, and I was soon
fast asleep!
Saturday, 24 August 2013
Day 6. Fort William to Falloch Falls.
Past Crianlarich, on the A82, it was time to look for
somewhere to camp. There was no way I was going to make it as far as Ayr, as
I’d originally planned – not making it as far as the pre-set destination each
day really put a strain on the whole timeframe, and I was already thinking that
the trip was going to take at least one extra day, maybe more! I discussed it
all with my wife, Alice, and we agreed that staying safe and trying to enjoy
myself were both far more important than sticking to an arbitrary timeframe
that had been devised months earlier in the comfort of our flat! The fact that
I’d failed the previous day to make it as far as Altnafeadh, south of Glen Coe,
along with the various late starts, more frequent stops than I’d imagined, and
challenging terrain meant that covering distances of more than ninety miles
was, at least at this point, unrealistic. Having the freedom to add an extra
day, or two, made all the difference, and I was able to relax and enjoy my trip
without worrying.
I found a spot to wild camp very close to the Falls of
Falloch, which was lovely – but midge mad! They were absolutely everywhere,
being so close to a waterfall and ensuing river, along with having a still
soaked tent from the morning deluge, was a recipe for midge heaven – I had to
resort to actually using my head net! Once inside the tent though, all was well
and I was soon asleep after having my customary tin of rice pudding J - great recovery food,
tasty too!
Friday, 23 August 2013
Day 5. Bunchrew to Fort William.
In the Fort Augustus area I was passed several times by a
trio of expensive sports cars (Lamborghinis’ and porsches) being put through
their paces – the drivers were particularly juvenile and idiotic though,
insisting on dipping their clutches and revving their engines, just to give me
a scare. I saw them again a few miles later; they’d stopped at a country hotel
and I could hear their braying voices from afar, and as I watched them take out
their weekend travel bags I toyed with the idea of keying each of their hideous
cars – before thinking better of it and carrying on my way.
Once in the outskirts of Fort William I tried in vain to
find a shop that sold support bandages for my knee. I didn’t find anything
suitable but was at least pointed in the direction of a spot to wild camp for
the night by a friendly local, out walking his dog. I passed a group of teenage
girls on their way into town for the night, the luminous blonde hair of each
and every one of them was a surreal sight, and they each in turn said hello –
that made me laugh to myself, as the insecurities and one-upmanship of
teenagers will, I think, never change! My wild camp site was found without
incident at the far end of a rugby pitch, far enough away from casual
passers-by and I was again soon set up and ready to turn in for the night,
after chatting with my wife, Alice, as was customary each night.
Thursday, 22 August 2013
Day 4. Kylesku to Bunchrew.
I slept really well during the night of my first wild camp,
and awoke to another lovely day, although windy too. I ate porridge for
breakfast and was soon ready to depart by about 9am.
I still had lots of miles to cover between Inchnadamph and
Bunchrew, near Inverness, so had to press on. The sun disappeared behind some
clouds as I headed further inland and east towards Bonar Bridge, along Loch
Borralan. The road narrowed again, with passing places to allow traffic to pass
by – I started to find that cars often wouldn’t wait for me to pass and would
just press on, sometimes a little close to comfort!

The campsite seemed fine though, and I was soon set up and
safely snuggled up in my sleeping bag, and then snoring, no doubt!
Wednesday, 21 August 2013
Day 3. Tongue to Kylesku.
Today started out well. Awaking in a room all to myself was quite lovely! I had a good breakfast and made use of the showers once again, before getting packed and ready to depart by 10am. Whilst bringing all of my kit downstairs and filling water bottles etc I got talking to a couple who had cycled from Land's End over a period of 18 days, and this was to be their penultimate day - seeing them cycling to Dunnet Head - just a few short and flat miles from John o' Groats. Their enthusiasm for their trip, and the beauty of Scotland was infectious, and I couldn't wait to get started with the day's cycling ahead - I just hoped and wondered if I would have the same sense of enthusiasm at the end of my journey...
The first few metres from the hostel led down to a large sea loch, where I stopped to take some photos of the still water. From the other side of the loch the road rose steadily up for a few miles, and with the sun already high in the sky, and hot too I was soon working hard! A few miles further the road dropped away quite steeply to a place called Hope, where there was a narrow bridge over the river Hope and nice views. The descent unnerved me slightly as I wasn't used to such steep roads, especially with a fully laden bike with kilos of equipment - it was also true to say that the words of a friend of mine (Paul) were still fresh in my mind, about needing to replace my brakes on the trip, and so I was conscious of not wanting to wear them out prematurely!
From Hope the road rose again up a hairpin bend towards another sea Loch, this time called Loch Eriboll - absolutely beautiful! The loch was so still that there was no movement of the surface at all, and the single track road around the lochside was a real joy to cycle. Once around the end of the loch and traveling up the western side I decided to stop for a coffee or an ice-cream and bumped into another cyclist - this time a guy from Essex who was touring around the Highlands on a knackered old bike. He seemed to be really enjoying himself though, and we stopped for coffee together, along with another guy, from the Netherlands, who was touring Scotland on his motorcycle. The three of us swapped stories and experiences of our journey's whilst waiting for our refreshments to slowly arrive. The chap from Essex was taking his time, and didn't seem to have a fixed agenda or mileage to make each day, and I thought that that would be a great way to really explore the sights - although I think for me, that a bit more structure is needed - at any rate he seemed shocked by my projected daily mileage, but wished me well when I decided to resume the day's ride before the others.
The western side of Loch Eriboll, towards Durness, was again nice to cycle along, although the wind had picked up and was blowing directly against me - great though, as I knew that in a few miles time I would be turning inland and if the wind held, would be perfect for pushing me along a little!
Durness was a tiny little place, completely deserted of people on the most gorgeous beaches! It also had just one shop, so I stocked up on everything I needed to see me through to the middle of the next day, as I knew that shops would be a scarcity in the region of Scotland I was about to head in to.
The climb inland from Durness along the A838 was really beautiful, but quite hard going - I needed to stop often to catch my breathe, and to allow my heart rate to return to something approaching normal - but the views were stunning. Once up into the mountains the road levelled out and then gently descended for a few miles of the best cycling I have ever done! The small lochs and rivers were glinting in the sunshine and the sky was an amazingly deep and lovely blue; whilst at the same time I had a gentle tailwind pushing me along; my confidence was growing and I was having the absolute time of my life - pure cycling joy!
I met a man at the end of Loch Inchard, who approached me for directions, which seemed odd to me at the time, but I suppose I at least had a map! Anyway, we got chatting for about 45 minutes about a whole range of topics, including; Scottish independence, wind farms, Andy Murray, and his job as a physics teacher on Shetland. He was also making a documentary partly about the first men to row the Atlantic ocean in the 1960's and partly about his own bumbling attempts to record his meetings with these now elderly men - it all sounded exciting and interesting! He wished me well on my journey, shook my hand, and off I went again, on a high from both the cycling, but also from chatting with a genuinely interesting and friendly guy - the first of many on this trip. I wish now that I had taken his photo, as I think it would have spurned me on to document the meetings I had with people right the way down the length of Scotland, Wales and England - interesting people who were willing to share the time of day with a smelly and dishevelled cyclist, to share something of their lives with a complete stranger, to offer encouragement and advise and to provide positive human interaction and friendliness to a potentially vulnerable road user...
Beyond Loch Inchard the road continued to wind towards Scourie bay and the village of the same name. The road was plenty hilly, but not too challenging, with some lovely fast descents and wooded sections with glimpses of the sea lochs beyond. The sun was still shining but cooling fast as evening arrived. I thought it unlikely that I would reach my original planned destination of Inchnadamph, and so decided to look for somewhere closer to wind-camp. I found the perfect spot near the small settlement of Kylesku, just near, or under Kylesku bridge. Unfortunately I startled a couple of German tourists, who were sitting outside their camper van, playing cards, when I approached them to ask if they minded if I camped nearby.
It didn't take long to set up camp for the evening as the sun set in the west, the last rays of light finally fading as I cooked some food before getting some rest for the night. It had been a perfect day of cycling - challenging at times, with long climbs, but ultimately very rewarding with excellent views and incredibly good weather, to say nothing of the friendly people I had encountered along the way!
The western side of Loch Eriboll, towards Durness, was again nice to cycle along, although the wind had picked up and was blowing directly against me - great though, as I knew that in a few miles time I would be turning inland and if the wind held, would be perfect for pushing me along a little!
The climb inland from Durness along the A838 was really beautiful, but quite hard going - I needed to stop often to catch my breathe, and to allow my heart rate to return to something approaching normal - but the views were stunning. Once up into the mountains the road levelled out and then gently descended for a few miles of the best cycling I have ever done! The small lochs and rivers were glinting in the sunshine and the sky was an amazingly deep and lovely blue; whilst at the same time I had a gentle tailwind pushing me along; my confidence was growing and I was having the absolute time of my life - pure cycling joy!
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