Day 21 Part 2 - Journey's End

The train journey was pretty quick and comfortable back to Kings Cross then I had to cycle the few miles to Waterloo. It was glorious sunshine - which could have been sold for a fortune in Lewis. It was also the rush hour but Valerie had sent me a text with directions to get to Waterloo and I quite enjoyed weaving in and out of taxis and buses and particularly crossing Waterloo Bridge with a splendid view of Big Ben and the London Giant Bicycle wheel.

I thought I might be stuck at Waterloo because it was rush hour, Friday with everyone one wanting to take their bikes on the train and I had been told that bike places on this train could not be reserved. But as I was walking my bike down the platform there was an announcement to the effect that bikes could only be taken on this train if they had been reserved. I thought I would try it any way and asked a guard, "Where do I put me bike, mate?" (showing my grasp of the local dialect) He showed me the space in a carriage for bikes and I pushed it in, the train filled up with crowds of commuters and set off. There were a couple of suited city blokes waiting to get off just before Andover who had been in a wine bar all afternoon and were finding it difficult to stand up. (They should meet Micky from Lochmaben who could stand up after thirteen pints of beer and six wee dram's even when Jamie was playing the bagpipes in the next bar.)
I asked them what the next station was.
"..'s Andover, ol chap. Where you off to on yer bike then?"
I told them that I was on my way back etc...
"You cycled all the way to the Outer Hebrides from Fordingbridge, tha's bloody amaazingg. Hey Patrick? Don't you think, izz bloody amazing?"
"You're a ******* tosser!" Patrick said affectionately.
"It's easier than travelling by rail." I said.
"Look," said the one that wasn't Patrick. "I don't mean to be rude or-ranything, but you're, well ..."
"Old?" I said.
"No. Not exactly slim."
"I was fatter when I started." I said.
Patrick in the mean time seemed to grasp something, "The Outer Hebrides is ******* miles away. How far's the Outer Zebrodides?"
"******* miles." said the one who was not Patrick.
"About 850 miles." I said.
"Eight... eight.. Eight 'undred...that's ******* miles. Let me shake you're hand.
We shook hands. Then Patrick shook my hand as well.
The train stopped and the queue that had been standing waiting behind Patrick and his colleague listening, all said "Well done," as they climbed off.

At Salisbury I phoned Valerie to ask her to meet me on the other side of town and I cycled the couple of miles, through the Cathedral Close to meet her.

So my journey ended and it was lovely to be back home with my family.

I cycled 1610 km, I ate 62 chocolate bars, 16 pies of various descriptions, 10 bags of crisps, 3 bags of peanuts, 12 apples, 1 black pudding, on top of three large meals a day and lost half a stone in weight.

If you have followed this Blog - (a feat of endurance in itself) then thanks a lot. There were a couple of days when, for some reason, the blog had gaps in it, so if you want to see the corrected pages they are there now. The whole Blog can be seen by going to 'Archives' and clicking on 'September'.

Bye

Graham

Back home with Ella

Back home with Ella
Originally uploaded by Graham on his bike.

 

Waterloo Bridge

Waterloo Bridge
Originally uploaded by Graham on his bike.

Rush hour

Rush hour
Originally uploaded by Graham on his bike.

The Tyne

The Tyne
Originally uploaded by Graham on his bike.

Day 21 -

Sitting on the train travelling South, I have had time to look through some of the hundreds of emails I have received on my journey North. Picking one at random I see it is from Ms.Beaulallies of Denham in Suffolk. She says: ---- "I have been following your Blog avidly since stumbling upon it whilst searching the internet for information on how to fit my old crank onto my new racer, I must have mistyped 'Old parts on bikes' and come up with your Blog. I can not help noticing that you are incredibly old and I wonder how your ageing limbs are withstanding all the cycling.
Yours truly
Dribone Beaulallie "----
Thanks very much for the email Dribone and your interest in my journey. Like a good meal, a long journey is all in the preparation. I started training for the ride back in May and was careful to do just a little riding each week to start with and gradually increase this to around 150km a week just before I left. I also spent a lot of time getting the right saddle and adjusting the height and position of the saddle and handle bars. I found that cycling 100km per day was fine and I had completely recovered by the next day after a day's rest but cycling further took its toll. The bicycle seat is second only to a sharp stick as the most uncomfortable seat it is possible to sit on. I had put a lot of extra padding on the handlebars which avoided the damage I suffered to my ulna nerve on my trip to Rome two years ago.
All in all, I feel fitter now than I have done for ages - Graham

Bridge to Inverness

Bridge to Inverness
Originally uploaded by Graham on his bike.

Fixing a rattle

Fixing a rattle
Originally uploaded by Graham on his bike.

Coffee stop

Coffee stop
Originally uploaded by Graham on his bike.

Dambusters

Dambusters
Originally uploaded by Graham on his bike.

'Just dropped a dud bouncing bomb Skip, going round for a second go.' 'Hold on Chalky, there's something on the dam. Damn! It's Graham's bike...

Big tree

Big tree
Originally uploaded by Graham on his bike.

Good morning Ullapool

Good morning Ullapool
Originally uploaded by Graham on his bike.

Day 20

Ullapool is a lovely town, with a deep harbour in Loch Broom, surrounded by mountains. I was off on the wrong road by 7.25 and off on the right road by 7.30. I noticed something strange as I stepped out of the hostel - it was warm. So for the first time in many days I set off in my shorts. There was a slow climb up the mountains and it was nice to be amongst trees - after the endless bog of Lewis. After the climb there was a long downhill ride which went on for mile after mile past lochs, reservoirs, rivers and waterfalls. It was a lovely ride until 30km from Inverness when the road became very busy. I reached the Beauly Firth by 2.00 - 6 hours 30 minutes. Which is a world cycling record for this particular Coast to Coast crossing of Scotland by anyone over the age of 59, from Fordingbridge with a middle name of Ernest. There is a nice bridge with a cycle lane across the Firth which brings you into Inverness. I went straight to the Railway Station to check everything was OK with the ticket I had booked by phone. The very helpful ticket clerk, who no doubt I should correctly refer to as a Sales/Information Public Liaison Operative, said "Yes," they did have my ticket. Then added, "but there's a wee problem, I took one look at you and the word 'Bike' flashed through my mind."

"Uncanny, how could you tell?" I asked, putting my cycle helmet on the counter and scratching my lycra covered bum. "Oh, it would be the years of experience Sir. But the thing is, it says nothing about a 'bike' here."

"Is there not room on the train then?" I asked beginning to panic. "Ah, yes but if it were August it would be a different story." So he gave me my ticket and a slip of paper which said 'Bike' on it and told me how to get the bike on the train in the morning. This Hostel is the largest I have ever stayed in but it is clean and tidy and a cheap place to stay. So I have eaten and am drinking the wine that I carried in my spare water bottle over the mountains - I think it has actually improved. Perhaps someone else could test this - 'Blossom Hill - Cabinet Sauvigon (Email Val for the correct spelling) 97km to an altitude of 292m. 97 km Tomorrow "Kings Cross to Waterloo - the hard way" Bye, Graham

Day 19

The wind had died a little over night but was replaced with constant rain. I set off at 7.45 to cycle back over the spectacular moor that is North Lewis. I had a good night's sleep but still felt tired riding - but it was only to be a short day's cycling. With such an unchanging landscape I kept looking for something to break the endless bog. I got excited reaching the digger which had sunk in the peat. The day before when I was photographing it, a woman stopped her car and said, through her window, 'It's the peat - it sucks everything down.' (do your own Highland accent). But it had been pulled out and was looking rather sorry for itself by the side of the road. I reached Stornoway with over two hours to spare. The pouring rain stopped me exploring the town. The long ferry crossing was highlighted by the site of some dolphins. Way off in front of the ferry I could see them leaping high out of the water and when we reached them we could see them swimming past.
I ate fish and chips in the hostel tonight and bought a bottle of wine. Tried to give some away, as I should not drink a whole bottle. But the woman I offered it to, looked scared stiff at the suggestion. She had probably never heard of the cyclist's NN syndrome. It goes against my nature to throw wine away, so I will see how well it travels in a water bottle to Inverness.

36km

bye for now.

Graham

View from hostel window - Ullapool

View from hostel window - Ullapool
Originally uploaded by Graham on his bike.

The sun is shining over the main land

The sun is shining over the main land
Originally uploaded by Graham on his bike.

Day 18

Just a short write up tonight as I have been busy this evening - planning and booking my return trip. I got to Port Nis today, after a hairy start getting over the mountains from Rhenigidale - the wind was so strong it was impossible to stay on the bike - so I walked - even that was hard. But once back on the main road the wind was less gusty, mostly behind me and blew me all the way to Port Nis. I met Jack and Dave on the way, who were exploring Harris and I cycled with them for a while which was fun. But although they were 10 years older than me I could not keep up with them and said goodbye. But they waited at their turn off to say farewell again. The North of Lewis is a strange place and you would not guess it was part of the British Isles. I had to travel quite a way back South before finding somewhere to stay but I have found a very nice - empty hostel -cosy, clean and warm for £10. I plan to cycle to Stornoway tomorrow morning - get the 1.45 ferry to Ullapool, cycle to Inverness the day after and come home by train on Friday.
The forecast is not good for the next few days and I do not fancy exploring the rest of the Outer Hebrides against a gale force wind and rain.
Great Trip
112km today.

Port Nis harbour

Picture(119).jpg
Originally uploaded by Graham on his bike.

Beautiful empty beach at Port nis

Beautiful empty beach at Port nis
Originally uploaded by Graham on his bike.

So there is a place called Port Nis

Port Nis
Originally uploaded by Graham on his bike.

Local hot topic

Picture(115).jpg
Originally uploaded by Graham on his bike.

Lots of empty houses up here.

Lots of empty houses up here.
Originally uploaded by Graham on his bike.

Oops!

Oops!
Originally uploaded by Graham on his bike.

Dear Mr Mackay.
Re the digger I hired for peat cutting....

Lewis is not hilly

Lewis is not hilly
Originally uploaded by Graham on his bike.

Jack and Dave

Jack and Dave
Originally uploaded by Graham on his bike.

They are from Burton on Trent Dave is 69 and Jack is 70 - I couldn't keep up with them.

Sunrise

Sunrise
Originally uploaded by Graham on his bike.

The shore near the hostel

The shore near the hostel
Originally uploaded by Graham on his bike.

Rhenigidale hostel

Rhenigidale hostel
Originally uploaded by Graham on his bike.

Day 17

I met a lot of interesting friendly people at Uig Hostel.
In the morning there was a gale blowing and the hostel warden had news that the 2.00 ferry would not leave until 5.00. Too late for me, so I decide to wait until Tuesday. There are others who are also 'not' in the same boat as me, so we all sit around talking about the German elections with the Germans, the Canadian countryside with the Canadians, Japanese fruit with guy from Japan, and I tell them all what black pudding is and about deep fried Mars Bars. Then the warden told us that the 2.00 ferry was now sailing on time. So I decided to catch it. There were some seals hanging around the pier, as though they had just come to watch the strange creatures on two legs. The journey took an hour and forty minutes and was not at all rough. I said farewell to Kim and Robert and the Japanese guy whose name I have forgotten and got on my bike to head off to Lewis. I climbed a long gradual hill which rose 200m this went down to sea level and then there was the turn off to Rhenigidale and another, steeper, climb. Soon I was making the winding descent down beside a sea loch to a little cove where the hostel and a couple of other houses were. There are a couple of Swiss people staying there: Johanna and Andres. The place has two dormitories, a kitchen and lounge with a coal fire and silence that you could put a match to.
27km todayTomorrow Port Nis (Nis is Gaelic for 'ness' most road signs on Lewis are in Gaelic)

Into the wilds

Into the wilds
Originally uploaded by Graham on his bike.

Tarbert - Harris

Tarbert - Harris
Originally uploaded by Graham on his bike.

Sitting out the storm No. 2

Sitting out the storm No. 2
Originally uploaded by Graham on his bike.

Uig hostal Monday. All the world is here waiting for the ferries, which are running late, if at all. There are 2 Canadians, 4 Germans, 2 Belgiums, 6 Taiwanese, 1 Japanese and me.

Day 16

A nice easy ride today - no rain, the sky was cloudy with brief glimpses of the sun and the strong wind was blowing on my back. I chatted to the warden about what it was like 42 years back and to Wraight, his daughter and her friend, who he is taking to climb the Cuillins. His quest is to climb all the Monros - all the mountains in the UK over 3,000 feet. The ride is Great - I left the wonderfully remote Valley of Glenbrittel vowing to return before another 42 years elapse. Over the moors, around lochs, up and down hills and all the roads empty - except for a short rush of church goers returning home for their Sunday lunches. The Hostel Warden told me that there are a couple of shops open on Skye on Sundays now and that the garage at Uig is open until 4.00 and sells food.
I pass Uig Hostel some 2km before Uig and have to cycle down a steep hill to the town -which is a collection of spread out, wind swept houses and a pier. The garage is indeed open and I stock up with food, cram it all into my panniers and slowly cycle back up to the hostel.
I made a bit of a mess planning the ferries for tomorrow - I just assumed that there would be a ferry from Uig to Tarbert on the Isle of Harris sometime on Monday morning but there is not one until 2pm. It is nearly a two hour journey, so I will not get to Port Nis tomorrow. Instead I plan to stop at a remote hostel a few miles north of Tarbert - Rhenigidale, so far north it's usually only used by fur trappers and visiting Eskimos. Then I will cycle the remaining 90km to Port Nis on Tuesday. No idea where to stay on the night I get to Port Nis; we'll see.
70km today. 1,336km so far - 835 miles

Uig - from the hostel

Uig - from the hostel
Originally uploaded by Graham on his bike.

CUILLINS gone in the the mist

CUILLINS go the mist
Originally uploaded by Graham on his bike.

Glenbrittle SYHA

Glenbrittle SYHA
Originally uploaded by Graham on his bike.

The Shepherds

The Shepherds
Originally uploaded by Graham on his bike.

Accident black spot

Accident black spot
Originally uploaded by Graham on his bike.

Rain

Rain
Originally uploaded by Graham on his bike.

Day 15

Today it rained, almost non-stop. The forecast said that it would clear up in the afternoon but apart from a brief period it rained all day and Skye was covered in cloud. But I started off optimistically, waited for the local shop to open to get some breakfast and just wearing my shorts and rain jacket I set off but by the time I got to Broadford, some 26km, I was soaked and cold. Trying to change my map over to the next photo-copied sheet I reduced the next 3 maps to a ball of ink stained papier-mâché. The garage at Broadford sold everything, so, I bought a new map, had some coffee and stocked up on food. After another 10km the rain was being particularly spiteful and was getting in my eyes so much I had to keep stopping. There was the ferry terminal to the isle of Raasay and I found they had a little waiting room complete with heater which was on. I stopped, put my leggings on and ate some food. Although there were no great views, because of the mist, there were some interesting sights along the way. I stopped to take a picture of a rather splendid cow. "A.Mc.1000b" it said her name was on her ear tag. "That's a catchy name you've got there old girl" I said. "Not so much of the 'old' if you don't mind." She said, "I hate to be reminded of the brevity of bovine mortality." "Sorry," I said. Then changed the subject. "Wet. Isn't it? " "Makes the grass grow and my cream nice and rich for little A.Mc.1000b here." "Well, it's nice to meet an intellectual cow." I said. "Nice, to meet a human that has time to talk to a cow. Oh, here come a party of trippers with their cameras, stick the old horns out, cover my eyes with hair and 'mooooo!"
The next interesting thing was a swallow which darted across in front of me, no talking swallow, just a quick 'tweet, tweet.' Close behind it was a hawk. I thought that the hawk could never catch a swallow but although it swooped and dived the hawk was a match for it and caught it in mid flight. There's one swallow that will not make it back to Africa. Maybe it was a youngster and had not done the journey yet.
I climbed and rolled down hills in the pouring rain slowly and headed off down in the Glen of Glenbrittle. I hitch-hiked to this valley some 42 years ago and walked the last 6 miles over the mountains to the hostel there. It is such a wild and remote valley on the side of the Cuillin Mountains that I fell in love with it and stayed for about 10 days making friends, climbing, walking and making boat trips. I said I'd return and here I am.
Only 8km to go down the single track lane. I was going down a short hill being aware that there was a car behind that might try to squeeze past on the bend, I slowed down because it was a sharp bend and went to change gear, there was a broken road edge but for some reason I did not miss it and the front wheel went down into the hole and I went flying across the road. I knew that I had not hurt anything seriously (years of falling over when I was drunk, trained me how to fall) but I was worried about my bike. The people in the car behind stopped and asked if I was OK, there was a hissing from the front tyre, "I'm fine," I said "but I don't know about my bike." I picked it up quickly and spun the front wheel - it still looked straight. I moved to a wide bit of grass where I could change the inner tube. There was a small dent in the front wheel but it did not look like it would effect the brakes. I changed the tube, pumped it up and then realised that I had trapped the inner tube in the outer tyre. I could hear my Dad over my shoulder saying "Always give a couple of pumps and then check the tube is not trapped." "I did," I said "clear off" So, I did it all again and pumped it up a second time and set off - carefully. All seemed to be ok. So, I think the trip is still on.
I am now at Glenbrittle SHYA which has not changed a great deal. I am warm, dry and well fed. Getting changed, I realised why things had gone wrong today, sure I was not being careful enough on a narrow wet road, whilst going fast down hill and I was tired, wet and cold. But the real reason was - I had been wearing my shirt inside-out all day. - how embarrassing.
75 km today. Did I mention the rain?