Orkney was different and peaceful, but possibly better as a holiday destination in one of the following ways. Having a car would make travelling around easier. Or great weather over a prolonged period of time would allow exploration by bike. Below is the lovely little bay of St Margaret’s Hope, apparently named after a Norse princess who died on her way to meeting her English prince. We didn’t do much during our evening apart from bask in the glory of our accomplishment.
The following morning looked clear so we headed out on the bikes without the panniers (so much easier!) and cycled across the Churchill barriers, built after a u-boat torpedoed HMS Royal Oak in Scapa Flow during WW2 and killed over 800 people in the process. Seeing the moored boats and remains of shipwrecks either side of the barriers was fascinating, and we were the only ones around on a sleepy Sunday morning. Here is a freakishly bright shot of those barriers and wreckages.
We returned to collect our panniers and headed for the ferry back to Gills Bay. It was rougher than yesterday and left me feeling distinctly dodgy once again. When safely back on the Scottish mainland we cycled back to John O'Groats then down the A9 to Wick. The weather was doing something bizarre that day. It would go from being bright sunlight to chucking it down, then stopping as if someone were turning a tap off. Lorries sped past us chucking a load of surface water all over us, but it’s irrelevant now - those clothes won’t be worn again for a while!
The following lunchtime saw us begin our journey home. We felt more distrusting of the trains than we have done towards our own legs and bikes to cycle to their destinations these past 3 weeks! However it all ran pretty much to plan. The rain forced us to the station rather earlier than necessary, but the train was already there and we were able to load our bikes into their racks. The train then departed, going past the roads and towns our adventure took us to. We broke the journey in Inverness, continued to Newcastle the following morning, then took the very same cycle path as 22 days ago and finding ourselves at home once again.
Thank you once more to the kind people who sponsored The Lullaby Trust, motivating me during the cycle by doing so. We wanted to do the trip but some people thought it was so mad that I decided to set up the JustGiving page anyway. It’s great to have been able to raise a little bit of money for a good cause whilst doing something we really enjoyed. If anyone would still like to donate, please use the following link.
Approximate miles covered: 1044
‘Fuel’ drunk by dad: 93 pints
Best accommodation: Blacksmith’s Arms, Talkin
Best food: Eglinton Arms, Eaglesham (quality) / Royal Oak, Garstang (quantity)
Best scenery: Wye Valley (me) / Lake District (dad)
Most scenic day: Glencoe to Drumnadrochit - lochs, glens and canals (with pubs!)
Best pub: Driftwood Spars, St Agnes
Best pint: Scapa Special, Highland (me) / Trade Winds, Cairngorm (dad)
Worst moment: Taunton, for the pure stress it caused
Doubters (including us at times), we did it! Here we are at the official signpost.
We had our final full breakfast to fuel the last 22 miles. After all, we have no excuse if not expending loads of energy. It was an easy coast into John O'Groats with large sections of downhill and other long flats that we could power through. Then we saw the famous hotel and knew we were at our destination. Of course, it wouldn’t have been right for us to arrive in sunshine, so the heavens opened as we swung around the final corner. Well, it wouldn’t have been our story of Scotland otherwise!
The trickiest part of planning this trip was the logistics of taking two bikes and two cyclists on the same train. We managed fairly well to Penzance. But getting back from John O'Groats is pretty difficult. We need to take the 4-hour-stops-everywhere service from Wick to Inverness and then the 5-hour service from Inverness to Newcastle. Unbelievably, there is only one train a day from Inverness to Newcastle, and it leaves at 8am, so we have to break our journey in Inverness. An additional complication is that we couldn’t book the bikes on the train from Inverness until Tuesday.
So this is how we are using our time. Following a couple of drinks in the hotel, we turned into the headwind and cycled for 4 miles to Gills Bay. It is well known that there is a ferry from John O'Groats to Orkney. It is perhaps less well known that 4 miles up the road is a better, more reliable and faster ferry to Orkney. Once at the ferry terminal, we waited for all the cars to board, had our bikes roped up and set sail across the rough seas. I’ve never been great on boats, so didn’t find it especially enjoyable. It’s funny that I can throw pretty much anything at my body - excessive exercise, too much alcohol and whatever food I fancy - and it will handle it. 40 minutes on a ferry, however, leaves me feeling seriously sketchy! But the views of the ghost island of Stroma - once inhabited by 350 people and their houses remain untouched - were intriguing.
This trip has been a real exploration of Britain for me. I know my dad feels he has seen less of the country than he thought he would, but I really had no preconceptions or expectations. We’ve seen our country at its best - quaint countryside, historical features and best of British food and drink. There have been downs as well as ups (quite literally!), for example the poor driving in the Highlands, unexpectedly rubbish cycle paths and seeing rundown places.
I keep nudging my dad to remind him we’ve done it! The weather means we might be stuck on Orkney with no chance of exploring it, but we feel we’ve earned a decent break anyway and will enjoy it regardless.
Well, that b&b has been immediately relegated to last on our league table! The crimes committed were too heinous for my dad and he was clearly fettled. When I checked the weather forecast and conveyed to him that it was pretty good with the odd shower, he declared that those showers would only be wherever we happened to be. Oh dear. And I practically downed my cup of tea this morning, hurried as he was to leave.
Our travels have taken us to the coast today, providing some spectacular views like this one of the Dornoch firth. Crossing the bridge yesterday afternoon certainly saved us a canny detour then.
We also went through some sweet seaside towns, including Golspie and then Brora, where we stopped for tea and a scone. My dad cracked the shades out for the first time in almost a week, vowing that it was sure to be the kiss of death for the rest of our day. More of that obvious optimism! Annoyingly it did threaten to rain as we left the place, making him feel vindicated in his pessimism.
I think my bike is sensing it has almost accomplished this incredible feat. It seems to have decided it doesn’t want to go into first gear anymore. I don’t really care - I tend to stay in second as much as I can and, as I have previously mentioned, I’m more than happy to push my bike up a hill that would require my lowest gear! But I think it’s telling me it needs some TLC. Just hang on another day please bike!
It sounds dreadful, but being back on the regular E2E route means we’ve seen a lot of groups just starting their journey, choosing to head south instead. Whilst joining in with that famous cycling camaraderie and saying “morning” with a big smile and a wave, I’m secretly smugly thinking about how much more I’ve done and that they’ve got it all to come! Good luck with the wind in your faces! Enjoy those Cornish hills! Try not to get lost because of signposting!
Helmsdale appeared before us at 12.30 signalling a good lunch stop. These seaside towns are absolutely lovely and I’d never heard of them before. I must come back to this part of Scotland. It is unspoiled and sweet. Immediately after lunch was a superb downhill, followed by a mountain of an uphill. If we hadn’t cycled past Ben Nevis a few days ago I would have thought this was it. At one point I couldn’t even walk uphill. I was just stood on a hairpin bend holding my bike at an incredibly awkward angle, willing my legs to find the strength to push up! Luckily they did because this also seemed to be the breeding ground of all midges and we were being bitten everywhere. This view from the top was fantastic though.
Continuing on, we came to Dunbeath and stopped at what honestly looked like a shack. It actually was a bar and served a great pint. Such a good one we stayed for another, overlooking this lovely little bay whilst basking in something called the sun. We had almost forgotten what rays of sun felt like!
The rest of the journey was fairly uneventful, with the last 10 miles or so being through no man’s land. There was the odd house and a wind farm, but nothing else. Halkirk doesn’t look the part and I wouldn’t recommend visiting just this town alone. Saying that, the b&b we are staying in (which is nothing more than a woman’s house with spare bedrooms) has a lovely owner who made us cake. There is also a good pub.
Tomorrow morning sees us finally arrive at John O'Groats! I say that with such certainty because it’s close enough to walk in a day. We will get there and this fabulous trip will be at an end.
Waving goodbye to Nessie, we left Drumnadrochit and joined the Caledonian canal to Inverness. I liked Inverness and look forward to spending a night there before we catch the train home.
Beyond Inverness we joined National Cycle Network route 1, which was well maintained and largely free of traffic. At one point it left the road and meandered through the trees, occasionally crossing the road for a spell on the other side. My dad thought it resembled an obstacle course, not a cycle path. We quite enjoyed it though. It made a change from following the road. We saw little in the way of civilisation, but I’m sure I saw a cow having a little dance. Well, life must be pretty boring for them.
We were prepared to call today a dry day, despite a small downpour near Dingwall. However, we then had hailstones. That was a rather unpleasant few minutes, giving me that feeling of squelching feet - a feeling that has been all too common during the second half of this trip!
I squealed with delight when I saw this sign, slamming my brakes on to take a picture and almost causing my dad to crash into me, unexpected as the stop was. That is the first time our destination has been signposted.
Dornoch is very pretty. Unfortunately our b&b is not what we expected. It is advertised as a b&b with all en-suite rooms and yet we don’t have an en-suite, instead having to wait an hour for a singing Italian man to finish his bath! I find this quite amusing, but dad is raging about it. I’ll get my own back, probably on trip advisor which I have only ever used to write 5* reviews. Blatant lying probably deserves a bad review. We vacated as quick as possible to the Eagle Hotel, dad needing the warming reassurance of beer.
The Clachaig at Glencoe is clearly something of a Mecca for outdoorsy types, packed with mountain walkers and cyclists. We enjoyed not feeling like scruffs because everyone else was just as scruffy as us. This is the kind of place I’d like to come back to. Sporty, relaxed and full of character.
It wasn’t raining when we left! What a miracle! We were able to appreciate the fabulous views today, including this one of Loch Linnhe.
We stopped for elevenses at Fort William and continued on towards Fort Augustus, stopping at this super little barge-bar for an afternoon half (full for my dad, of course).
I thought Fort Augustus was beautiful. I like the look of canals and I was interested by the multitalented businesses. Fancy being a pub and takeaway. Or a supermarket and restaurant. Who knows, they could be rubbish at both.
Continuing on, we reached Loch Ness and waved at Nessie. One thing that struck us today is that after having no problems with drivers down south, we did experience some difficulties today. Sorry guys, unless we swam across Loch Ness there really was no alternative route!
Drumnadrochit appeared before us and we pulled over. Most importantly, we had a dry day! I’m totally dry for the first time since Ambleside, and don’t need to spend my evening draping my things out in a vague attempt at drying them. The views were glorious and we are edging ever nearer to John O'Groats. It’s amazing what a difference being dry can make. We’re not even that bothered about the sun, just not battling the elements. Instead of soldiering on, we were able to actually enjoy our ride.
What a gloriously sunny and warm day! Oh, wait. No. It chucked it down. This had me in a mutinously bad mood for the first hour and half until we swung over to a tea room. The bad mood wasn’t helped by a driver covering me from head to foot in water. Yes I was already soaked and no it didn’t make me any more soaked, but I didn’t need the extra dowsing of cold! Surely the courteous thing would have been to wait until we were out of the puddle. I think both dad and I felt more out of sorts for having found the lodge last night uselessly pretentious, and of all places to not be able to post my blog, I was surprised it was (what was supposed to be) the poshest!
I had previously read books and blogs about end2end, and almost all of them reported the poorest weather being in Scotland. I really hoped to disprove that on this trip, but the appearance of Bertha rather confirmed it. I would definitely opt for the fastest route if repeating this cycle, instead of aiming for the beauty of west Scotland. After all, what is the use of beautiful scenery if you can’t see it for rain and mist?
After cycling the remaining distance of Loch Lomond, we cycled up out of the valley to Crianlarich, stopping for lunch at the station tea room. I liked their displays of telegraph messages to the tea room dating back to 1901, showing messages from passengers on board trains who wished to have food brought on for them.
We continued on a few more miles, and during this time I came up with a new way of beating the cold. The month being August, I really hadn’t banked on being cold through 2 layers of clothing and simply didn’t have anything extra to put on. So I zipped my waterproof up over my chin and pedalled so fast that my thighs burned. This created the illusion of warmth!
This cold weather has played havoc with my bladder. I don’t think the bumpy roads have helped either. The A82 into the highlands didn’t offer any cover from the road for me to relieve myself without a bunch of drivers seeing, and I like to therefore think it was my doing that forced us into my dad’s favourite Scottish pub so far. Continuing on our way, we soon found ourselves facing this monster (the picture was taken from the top - we cycled up from the bridge!).
The sun made a short appearance, which we were grateful for if only to appreciate the beauty of the highlands. I had one particular moment when dad was cycling ahead and, feeling tired, I got off my bike. I could not hear another sound. Complete silence is rare, and I appreciated it. Then I got back on my bike and it soon started lashing it down again. When it wasn’t lashing it down, we had strong winds in our faces. Forget prevailing winds, they were just permanently in our faces regardless of direction!
At one point, my dad bellowed over the wind “Bertha’s been a right cow to us! I’d have hated to see her when she was really mad!” Personally I’m not even convinced this is Bertha’s fault at all. I think it’s a convenient excuse for crap weather.
Looking around, the scenery is spectacular. We passed gushing waterfalls (and so they should be after the amount of rainfall!), green-covered mountains and lochs galore. Spotting a sign for our inn, we pulled into Glencoe. It is a kind of satellite base of lodges and bars, but comfortable with heated flooring and fabulous smelling food. We’re off to scoff some of it now, feeling we have well and truly earned it after today’s cycling. As I said to my dad, had he asked me to go faster today (which he often asks me to do), I would have turned around and started cycling home!
It was quite satisfying listening to it chuck it down yesterday evening when for once we weren’t outside in it! Because of our speedy cycling, we missed the worst of yesterday’s weather. Unfortunately today hasn’t been much of an improvement. I have to say, I’m a little bored of being cold, soaked and windswept, yet that has been our story since crossing the border.
We started our day with an easy cycle into Glasgow. I like Glasgow, with its wide streets and sandstone buildings with large windows. One of the most interesting things about this trip has been watching the landscape change. Cornwall was full of soft and light colours, then we went through the red brick of Lancashire as the scenery became greener and now the greys are here. Obviously the greenery is paid for by the less pleasant weather, but it looks good all the same.
Whilst in Glasgow we had lunch with my aunty and uncle. It was lovely to see them and they gave us a little boost. Following our very elongated lunch break, we left them and followed National Cycle Network route 7. This is definitely the best cycle path we have been on so far in terms of signposting and scenery combined. The signposting may be due, at least in part, to the Commonwealth Games. But the Forth and Clyde canal, surrounding parks and riverside paths provided a lovely route from Glasgow to Loch Lomond. If the weather hadn’t forced us to dive behind trees for respite every few miles, it would have been a truly lovely path.
Another dark cloud threatened as we approached Loch Lomond, so we took a break at an inn in Balloch. When calmer, we tentatively continued on our way, and managed the rest of the journey fairly well, arriving in Luss in good time. This accommodation was already our most expensive because of its location. Here is the view from our balcony.
However, we seem to have been the last people to arrive, and they had run out of twin rooms. So they have upgraded us to an executive suite. This is why we have the super view. However, we also have this interesting in-bedroom shower situation, as presumably these rooms are generally booked by couples. It seems a bit odd to us. The rooms is also filled with gadgets that we can’t really use. I was slightly baffled when the shower turned off when I was still in it, and I had to mess around with sensory buttons with a faceful of shampoo in order to turn it back on. I definitely feel more comfortable in less posh accommodation!
Talking of couples, I could do with my dad looking his age after this trip. He doesn’t look like the average father of a 25 year old, and if he did he probably wouldn’t be able to cycle Lands End to John O'Groats very easily. But I could do without people assuming we are in fact a couple!
So tomorrow to Glencoe. We think we’ll get up in time to have a cup of tea on our posh terrace overlooking the loch. Unless it’s chucking it down again. I’d like to have at least one nice day north of the border though please.
We were expecting heavy rain and strong winds today, but didn’t really get much of either. However, there are no pictures of today’s ride. Bertha, our tropical friend, saw to that! We’re not complaining - we actually think we got away very lightly compared to other parts of the country. It rained lightly all day with some heavier spells, but we weren’t as soaked as after the 3 thunderstorms we’ve been in so far on this trip. Because of the weather, we also cycled exceptionally quickly, arriving at our destination by 4.
Drying soaked clothing is not easy when you only have about 16 hours to turn yourself around. This is what our bathroom towel rack looks like after a rainy day on the bike.
I’m very impressed with my dad’s sense of direction and really wish I had inherited it. Someone could spin me around in Fenwicks and I’d be lost. This afternoon called for my dad’s sense of direction. We knew we had to turn off the A road onto smaller roads for the last 5 miles into Eaglesham, but there were no signposts (how surprising!). My dad managed to get us there by intuition, although later admitted that he was flying by the seat of his pants. I had been anxious about going wrong when we knew the weather could get worse, so was thrilled to see a sign announcing our arrival into the town. That literally was our first indication of going the right way!
Tomorrow’s forecast for the Glasgow area is pretty grim. I hope it’s wrong, especially as I’m not sure how acceptable it is to go for lunch with my aunty when looking like I’ve been swimming instead of cycling!
We enjoyed Talkin. Good accommodation, fantastic food and we didn’t have to step foot out in the storm after arriving! Putting soaking shoes back on this morning was a bit grim, but they soon dried out in the sun and strong breeze.
The most exciting part of the day was spotting this sign. Whatever happens now, we have cycled the length of England!
After some cheesy snaps with the sign, we crossed the road to the Old Toll Bar for some lunch. I was intrigued by the old marriage room, clearly an important part of history so close to the border.
Beyond Gretna, we spent most of the day on the same road and passing few places. One thing that struck me is how many fewer places we passed through in comparison to England. I did know this would be the case, and will become even more pronounced as we head further north, but it was interesting nonetheless. Our travels took us through Lockerbie, and to a dump of a pub where we both opted to actually use public toilets instead of the ones in the building. We’re hoping to find better as we move forward!
All in all, the weather was much better than yesterday and the cycling was very pleasant. Scotland is a big place but John O'Groats seems that bit closer now we’re this side of the border. Unfortunately I’m not that taken with Moffat. It looks like Tynemouth but isn’t as good!
After pumping the bike tyres up, we left Ambleside and set off. None of the tyres were actually outside of their recommended air pressure, which is pretty impressive after 9 days cycling. By Grasmere, I was ready to sling my bike in the water, after having staggered up a hill despite being only 4 miles into today’s journey. I resisted the temptation, remembering how good my bike has been to me so far.
I’m quite happy to walk up steep hills, pushing my bike. My dad has deemed this some sort of failure, and tries to motivate me with cheesy idioms. Today’s has been “when the going gets tough…” I feel I could end this sentence with “the tough have a drink and walk!” Or “the tough take a chill pill and decide to avoid a heart attack!” After all, it is still my legs that are completing this journey. It would be totally different if I jumped on a bus to the top.
However, I was punished for this readiness to abandon ship a few days ago. Upon realising yet another mountain in front of me, I swung my leg off my bike directly into a load of nettles. I spent the next few minutes cycling along looking for a dock leaf, which I subsequently slathered all over most of my shin. I believe it worked, but this could be psychological.
On our journey out of Ambleside, we passed this interesting castle on the shoreline, with a coat of arms. It looked rather lovely although in some state of ruin.
We followed the road out to Threlkeld before jumping on National Cycle Network route 71, the alternative C2C route from Workington to Sunderland. Spotting a pub, we pulled over for some lunch (and dad’s 48th beer). Looking south-east, the promised thunderstorms looked like they were on their way. The weather forecast had suggested these would be slow-moving heavy storms.
“So if we’re quick, we might miss them altogether,” I offered.
“Or if it starts, it’ll never stop,” replied my dad darkly.
I just laughed. His optimism is palpable!
You’d think, given the popularity of C2C, this route would be easy to follow. Unfortunately it had us half way up a hill and through 3 gates before we decided to leave it. We opted for the A66 and never actually managed to work out how we had gone wrong. The heavens opened as we neared the cycle cafe at Greystoke, although this was nowhere near the scale of the thunderstorm we experienced near Bristol. We dived into the cycle cafe nonetheless and recuperated with this vat of tea.
Our journey continued fairly uneventfully, with another stop at a nice-looking place. I saw another place name that amused me. I hope they’re a happy bunch.
Dad thinks he was later punished for that last stop when we were caught in our second thunderstorm of the day. By the time we finally arrived, the roads resembled rivers. If this continues, I could do with some of that stuff Harry Potter used to breathe under water. Or, I could just leave my bike at Talkin and swim to John O'Groats.
On stepping into the Blacksmith’s Arms at Talkin, I received an incredibly pitying look from the landlady. This place is really nice, and I did therefore feel quite guilty squelching up the stairs, dripping everywhere. A warm bath and second bucket of tea of the day, and I feel just about ready to head downstairs. Thank goodness they do food here!