Post 14, Day 8. Bitter sweet.

Our hotel last night was on the luxurious end of the lejog scale of accommodation. The food was good,  the beds comfortable and the decor calming. This perfect trinity combined to provide me with the first full nights sleep that I have had since starting the challenge.

Each night so far, I would sleep light, waking frequently and rising eventually at 4am to lie and wait for the alarm at 6.30. Oddly, this hasn't made me any more tired during the day but has been taking its toll of an evening. I suspect that there was an underlying concern keeping me awake, the constant question of  "can I do this?" played on my mind and maybe, as I get a real sense that we are nearing the end, that anxiety has faded slightly.

 Maybe not, maybe tonight I'll be pacing the halls at dawn once more.

There are other distractions to keep your mind occupied in the wee small hours such as...am I eating correctly, pacing myself well, over doing it, under doing it, what will the hills be like tomorrow, the wind, the rain, my knee and a million other tiny and largely unimportant thoughts.

However to add to these, I now seem to be spending far too much time worrying about my feet. Not that there is anything wrong with my feet, nor has there ever been, they're a bit on the large side granted, but that's never been something that kept me awake at night, twisted with concern.

Nope, this particular preoccupation is all the fault of Phillip an ex mountain bike champion with a terrific pace and a sense of humour to match. A few nights ago, when I mentioned my recent insomnia to Phillip, he offered some very Zen-like advice. Apparently all the monks about town these days obtain a state of meditation by emptying their minds of unnecessary thoughts. To do so they concentrate on one, innocuous thing....typically, their feet.

 So now I lay awake most nights, thinking of my feet...

 ...how much they hurt, how many more stokes of the pedal they shall need to undertake tomorrow, did they always have that vein thing on the side, why are they shaped so funny, what are toes really for?

It hasn't helped ...but I have developed a new found respect for my feet, so I suspect its all good...somehow.

Last nights footless sleep was a good set up for todays ride. A slightly shorter ride by recent standards and broken into more parts with the inclusion of a ferry ride across the head of the clyde.

We had been promised stunning vistas and smooth, undulating riding. We hoped the promises were true.

We set of in good spirits and rode as a group whilst we negotiated the suburban fringes of Kilmarnock. Along the route a cluster of locals who were gathered at the side of the road waved, cheered, clapped and filmed us, making us feel like Wiggins and Cavendish on their victory ride. It was a wonderful gesture but one that, unbeknown to us at the time, would lead to a sad and sobering end.

A few small hills interrupted the otherwise rapid flow of the group and we soon arrived at Largs in time to stop for a drinks at Nardinis, an art deco oasis, sat high on the sea front. We were treated to exotic coffees and rich pastries by Nick, in a shameless attempt to buy favour. (Sorry Nick, lovely gesture really).

Coffee on the go

Magnus, the Largs Statue, to commemorate the 1263 battle of Largs
"I think he needs a 60"

As we prepared to remount, we learned from Colin that one of the locals at the side of the road was in fact a good friend of Alistair, our Scottish Pastor. It became clear that Alistair's friend had chosen to ride with the group for a while and join the celebrations. A little after joining, this chap ( Called John as we later found out) hit a misplaced manhole cover and was sent to the floor head first.

From all accounts it was an horrific crash that left Alistair's friend in hospital with a broken jaw, cheekbone and missing teeth. We since learned that John had been well cared for and was in good hands at the local hospital. Still it was a awful thing to happen to him and a shock to those who witnessed and attended to him. 

Shocked and more than a little shaken by this news, we rejoined the road and pushed on for a gentle and overly cautious 14 mile ride to to Gourock, to catch the morning ferry.

Distracted from the earlier news by the thrill of a ride on a ferry, our departure worked like clockwork and we scuttled aboard like excited school kids on a day trip, making far too much noise and bothering the locals wonderfully.

Boarding the ferry

A few "Titanic" poses later and it was time to disembark..

Maria and Lizze...."Queens of the world!!"

....into another world.


If I thought the river Severn provided a stark contrast between the opposing landscapes...I had another thing coming, This was in an all together different league. The place that we had landed on wasn't in any way similar to the one that we had just left. Picture post card scenes were on every turn, tiny sea front cottages, wide open waters all the while dominated by the most magnificent mountain ranges, looming down from on high.

And it got better, soon we were riding along the side of clear fresh water lochs fed by roadside waterfalls and winding tributaries, the shores lapping inches from our wheels.

Along their lengths were sandy coves with vast established pine trees standing out like gigantic Bonsai with deep, impenetrable forests all around. The road surface was, for the most part smooth and newly laid...but most importantly for today...it was flat.

We wanted no hills to distract us from the scenery, no "heads down" today. Each of us rode slowly so as to absorb the environment more fully. We were aware that, not only were we actually here but that we had earned our place by cycling here from the opposite end of the country, this deserved more than a few photos, more than a glance...we wanted take in every glorious detail.

Our lunch stop was nestled in the grounds of a botanical gardens, approached by a picturesque wooden bridge...

Angus front and Tommy...upright for once...to the back

 ... and was served amongst the huge slabs of lumber cut down and machined into various forestry Posts and panels. The impressive collection of machinery and paraphernalia made for the most interesting lunch stop yet.

The road and the scenery continued as the wind picked up and soon we were climbing again. At various points Alistair, as perhaps a distraction from his concern for his friend, would regale us with his encyclopaedic knowledge of the surrounding hills and their historical significance. This added a new level of immersion that I enjoyed greatly. I like these small lessons in history from Alistair, he delivers them with just the right balance of fact and flourish, without a hint of rhetoric.

As Inveraray came into view we were struck with just how much more riding was to come before we could reach it. The town itself was situated on the opposite side of a long thin and turbulent loch, circumnavigation of which was now required before we could rest. One side of the loch offered a demoralising and strength sapping head wind, whilst the other provided a much earned lift into town.

Inveraray itself is a beautiful, small and interesting town. Despite its size it posses its own (and impressive) prison, A significant castle, A dock, A town square, high street and, most importantly for us, the beautiful Loch Fyne Hotel, the second most luxurious hotel on our tour so far and certainly the most beautifully located.

Today was an exceptional ride, broken up a little more and made all the more interesting for it. The scenery made us mall feel that this was what we signed up for, that this is what it was all about. Tomorrow we head for Fort William and Loch Lochy, just west of loch Ness.

Tomorrow, the weather looks ....changeable.

Ps...its possible that we shall have no internet connection tomorrow night, so my next post will likely be a day late.

<< BACK TO INDEX

Want More? 

 London to Brussels Blog

 London to Paris Blog