Day 15 - Catacol to Oban

Getting dressed in the morning. From 'What do I feel like wearing?' to 'What stinks the least?'. Sometimes you have to compromise – especially when there's no time for luxuries like laundry.

This, for example, is what's left of my socks:

One pair went feral and had to be binned; the others have all been lost en-route.

Anyway – we had to do the ferry hustle again today, and get out of our place by about 9:00. This kind of haste doesn't suit us; the upside, though, was that we got to see early morning for once. Early morning, on Arran anyway, was looking good:

The day was long and gruelling – 60 miles and over 3000ft of climbs. But it was also one of the most photogenic so far. With that in mind, I'll shut up and revert to photojournal mode for today...

Getting the ferry with dozens of other cyclists:

Back on the mainland - Rosie raids the Larder, Tarbet:

Al fresco, Tarbet:

The long, empty road behind us:

Loch Fyne lives up to its name:

In Ayrshire, buildings are big, solid and painted black + white. This looks fantastic against the green landscape:

The natural environment isn't bad either. This is a typical rocky path down to the lochside...

It's a long day for us though, and a stiff headwind all the way. Rosie was having the worst day so far, with back pain getting worse and sucking all the fun out of the journey. For the last 20 miles, we were making frequent stops to break out the mini-pharmacy of pain relief preparations we carry around with us: ibuprofen gel + tablets, deep heat, Indian muscle rub...

Much later than planned, we finally rolled into Oban, 'Gateway to the Isles'. Tonight: Chinese food for a change. Tomorrow: a prospective return to the online world when we – hopefully – pick up our fixed netbook.

Day 14 - Straiton to Catacol

An early (for us) start was needed to make sure we made the afternoon ferry to Arran. Having a deadline took the edge off our usual relaxed approach a bit. Nonetheless, Scotland, as always, was fantastic cycling country...

There are signs to tell you when you're passing a place you would otherwise have missed. Here's one place:

...and here's another one:

Pots of houmous are placed around the countryside for tourists:

Even the beasts can count on getting a lift:

Our second full day in Scotland and still the contrast with the English part of our journey is apparent: no one-way systems, no unsigned minor roads, no noticeable rush hour; just us, the chatter of insects and birds, and the occasional roar of military jets on manoeuvres.

More photos...

Dead tree points the way:

Power:

Nature:

Public meeting for mutual sideburn admiration:

Ferry raising its snout:

From the deck (that's Arran on the horizon):

Stepping off the ferry on Arran, there's only one navigational choice to make:

East coast:

Struggling over the bleakest most windswept moorland imaginable, to get to the north coast, rest, food and sleep:

Our B+B tonight is in Catacol, on the north coast...

I haven't mentioned the crazy hours of daylight yet... Basically, this far north and at this time of year, it barely gets dark. The birds don't know what the hell is going on, and are tweeting past closing time. This is the view from our B+B's bar at 10:30:

That's all! More tomorrow...

Day 13 - Dumfries to Straiton

We'd both been looking forward to this part of the trip, and Scotland didn't disappoint. By lunchtime, I had knackered a set of camera batteries in a futile attempt to cop the natural splendour.

So many ingredients for good cycling:

Wide open spaces...

Forest...

Plants and that...

Sun-dappled roads...

Meadows...

Blue sky...

Big lunch...

Rivers...

Cake...

Purple flowers (lots)...

S - I - L - E - N - C - E...

Chorus lines of inquisitive moo-coos...

Dry stone wall + early evening light...

I took this very poor quality video around the same time:

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Also – Rosie humiliated a pony by distracting it with a handful of grass and covertly styling its barnet:

That's about it for today. All fed and watered in Straiton; early start tomorrow, to catch the afternoon ferry over to Arran. Should be a bleak, Caledonian cragfest – in a good way.

Day 12 - Ullswater to Dumfries

Almost as soon as we got on the road, the savage hills of the Lake District began to soften into something a lot more cycle-friendly. Pretty soon we had straight, flat roads humming under our tyres, a powerful tailwind pushing us along at upwards of 20mph (non-cyclists – that's a lot).

This was the view in front of us:

...and this was the view behind us:

After the difficult, soggy struggle through the lakes, this freewheeling progress felt good. Here are some more pics...

Rosie improvises a Nature Hanky:

Here at last:

Famous creepy marriage place, Gretna:

Cheerily painted bus shelter, in the rain:

More tomorrow, when we get our first full day north of the border...

Day 11 - Capernwray to Ullswater

Rain...

Gloom...

Heavy, heavy rain...

Weather hasn't been a problem so far – we have rain gear and it works. But – a deluge is no fun, bike or no bike. After an intense downpour – it was just like standing in the shower – we squelched into Windermere, found a restaurant and sat down, steaming. Staff looked on uncertainly as we peeled off our dripping gear and draped it around the soft furnishings...

This has to be the least fun moment of the trip so far. Getting cold when you stop cycling is a problem at the best of times; being wet as well is worse; having limited dry stuff to change into (Rosie's panniers are as waterproof as Andrex), worse still. Undeterred, we put on our least wet outfits and pressed on towards Ullswater...

Putting a brave face on it:

Luckily, the Lake District is famous for spectacular, rugged scenery as well as godawful weather. For us, heading north from Windermere, this meant Kirkstone pass – a long, loong, damp climb followed by a hilarious, screaming descent. It's as close as you can get to a rollercoaster ride on a bike.

The top of Kirkstone Pass...

...and the snaky descent on the other side:

In fact, here is a video of the descent that someone else (thanks cmprops) has made:

Finally, our destination – outside...

...and inside, covered in our skanky, wet gear:

Tomorrow - Scotland.

Day 10 - Eccleston to Capernwray

Last night the netbook died. With all our photos and lots of draft blog posts potentially lost, this was disastrous. The mood last night was grim, therefore, as we shuffled to the pub – hence the lack of post about it at the time.

However...

Today's word is 'productive' and today's phrase is 'back on track'.

This morning, we located maybe the only Linux guy (we have a Linux laptop) in this part of the North-West, had a brief phone conversation and ferried our dead netbook to his Lancaster house in the rain.

On the phone to Wayne the computer man, Preston:

If you're reading this, he's managed to both fix it AND post it on to somewhere later in our journey. For now though, we can only wait and hope.

* * * * *

Aside from this drama, before we left our Eccleston hosts this morning, our brains had this unusual spectacle to process: feeding grapes who a tame white deer who wanders around the grounds. He's called Persil:

A damp and preoccupied day of cycling today, around Preston, Lancaster and beyond:

Relieved to have set the computer-fixing process in motion, we finally slumped gratefully over our pub dinner and Guinness at Capernwray (thanks to Roy for the lift).

Lake District tomorrow...