2 – 25 September
London to Edinburgh
So it began. The first day was a long slow slog to get out of London. That places is ginormous. 40km or something and I only just made it to the outskirts!
Being an international traveller I had to see Stonehenge. The days ride to get out there was really nice but the site itself was a bit of a joke. Its real claim to fame should be how to ruin an amazing historic icon by surrounding it with highways. “How about the serenity?” Pretty crap to be honest.
It was onwards to Oxford where I got to use my newly exchanged self-inflating mat that actually worked and was super comfy to sleep on. 4cm thick man, that’s the key number. Oxford had some choice as old university/town to wander around.
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| The Wise Heads of Oxford |
Stratford-Upon-Avon, The birth place of Shakespeare, canals and more of all the stuff you expect to see in the UK. I became a fan of B&B’s here, massive feast for breakfast continental breakfast then the full English…so good.
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| Parking up for the night along the Canals |
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| The Royal Shakespeare Commune |
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| Stratford by night - bustling! Shakespeare's birthplace old house on the left |
Cadeby, nice area but all I cared about was getting a good old English pub roast. Sunshine, check. Nice camping ground, check. Pubs in town and open, check. None of them serve meals on Sunday… What!
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| Me, pinky and Steelo |
Ashbourne I was discovering that the UK have a very different approach / ideals about camping and camping grounds. Permanent portacom type holiday homes, campervans and caravans everywhere, sealed roads around the site and even pubs and restaurants were not uncommon but there would never be a communal kitchen!
Baguettes:
I discovered Baguettes and Batons (smaller) in the supermarkets – The Cooperative Food being Mr Reliable for 3 plain baguettes for a pound, Sainsbury’s had slightly bigger and denser flour dough ones and Alda I found cheese topped batons – fresh out of the oven… that got me excited! Me and bread are one thing but I found a new love over here. Baguette, baguette, baguette, baguette, baguette, mmmmmm baguette, baguette, baguette!
So the epic part of the journey began. Into the open, empty countryside, hills, beautiful scenery, and the all-important crap weather thanks to lovely Irene who came over from the US. The Peak district is called exactly that because it has LOTS of hills, steep, steep hills. On the map it didn’t look too big of a day… 7 ½ hours later of riding over seemingly endless steep hills with Irene (hurricane drifted over from the US) battering away at me, it was epic. At the end of my trip I also discovered that my map showed road distances in miles and mountain heights in metres not feet. Why would you mix imperial and metric! It gets confusing. It did make more sense that I was climbing in metres because they felt like painfully slow imperial climbs.
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| Passing through the local villages and maybe through time as well. |
The next day it was into the Yorkshire Dales, the epicness continued. It was me, myself and Irene for the day again. The unfolding landscape slightly different to that of the adjoining Peak District but just as dramatic with the baron hills, black sky and occasional piece of sun piercing through. Stainforth, my destination for the day, approached and I hoped to get a room in the local pub to dry off. The only one left was a single – that’s fine – but then the room was full of all the laundry and cleaners gear and no cleaners around to tidy up the room. So it was back to camping over a very wet night needless to say a very wet tent to pack up in the morning and weigh me down just a little bit more. Harden up.
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| Ah, the rain. The memories. |
Heading to The Lake District I experienced my wettest day so far. My speedo stopped working and that has only happened before in monsoon rain. Talking with the lollipop man at some roadworks he said “it has been the worst summer in 18 years.” Sweet it has been saving this up 18 years for me! I started to get a bit over the fantastic end to summer and thought it would more pleasant to circumnavigate Antarctica. The sunshine did finally decide to break out when I reached the Lake District and I was able to enjoy some heat circulating around my body, it was glorious. Stayed at a youth hostel in Ambleside to enjoy the luxuries of standing up in my accommodation and being able to dry out all of my gear. I overheard a lady say to her mate “yea, there’s a little bit of room left (in the drying room) just shoes and clothes and a random tent in there.” That’s me.
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| The main road turned cobbled through this town |
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| What's this!? Sun?? |
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| Ambleside - set into the surrounding hills and... |
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down to the lake.
The youth hostel sat along the edge of the lake in the bay on the left |
The eye of the storm passed over while I was in Ambleside and I spent a reasonably dry day hanging out and recovering from some long days. So excited about the dry weather I planned out a neat-o! loop around the Lake District for the next day. I then read the weather report – heavy patches of rain in the west and 50mph winds. Hmm I’ll see how it pans out in the morning. They were unfortunately correct so I resorted to Plan B a short 35km to Lake Ullswater but it still had its challenges...
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| Not just one short section but about 80% of the whole climb! |
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| At Kirkstone Pass looking back down the route to the lake just visible in the background |
Followed by a slightly of control awesome descent!
Pooley Bridge. Well that’s just a funny name. Names over this side of the world are classic.
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| You taking the piss!? |
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| The English are coming! |
It was time head east. Locals had warned me of 70mph winds which wasn’t too different from most of my trip so far but I was keen for some relief from it and thought the further east I go the better it should get. I followed Hydrian’s Wall (old border wall the Scots built to prevent English invasion) most of the way over to the east. It would have been one hell of an impressive wall back in the day. Lookout Towers every mile (1.6km) and 4m (don’t need to convert that it is already in metric) high walls between each tower and in places constructed along pretty tough terrain. I was impressed. I had the joys of the wind at my back and for sections I didn’t even need to pedal I was just blown along at 20kph. Felt sorry for the hikers walking the wall in the other direction. Dinner I got my roast meal. Man it was choice! Beautiful tender beef slices, potatoes, vege, gravy and a Yorkshire pudding. Happy.
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| Remains of the wall along a cliff face |
The last couple days of the tour I followed the east coast towards Edinburgh which would really be better named Castle Coast.
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| First day in a long time waking up to a clear day. Rothbury. |
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| Bambrugh Castle - just down the coast from Budle |
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| Heading out to Holy Island along the tidal causeway. |
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| Castle out on the head on Holy Island |
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| Crossing into Scotland |
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| Tantallon Castle |
Edinburgh, the destination had been reached. The end of the cycling. It seemed weird to think that was end. There was no big welcoming parade just a beer and cool Scotland breeze.
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| Looking over the Old Town |
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| Old Town along The Royal Mile |
The route was decided by my local travel consultants Kerry and Scares putting a pink dot where it was good to go. Although there was some tough going it was worth it. An epic journey it turned out to be. My only regret is that I needed a few more months to get through Scotland, Ireland and Wales. I’ll be back.
Being an international traveller I had to see Stonehenge. The days ride to get out there was really nice but the site itself was a bit of a joke. Its real claim to fame should be how to ruin an amazing historic icon by surrounding it with highways. “How about the serenity?” Pretty crap to be honest.
So the epic part of the journey began. Into the open, empty countryside, hills, beautiful scenery, and the all-important crap weather thanks to lovely Irene who came over from the US. The Peak district is called exactly that because it has LOTS of hills, steep, steep hills. On the map it didn’t look too big of a day… 7 ½ hours later of riding over seemingly endless steep hills with Irene (hurricane drifted over from the US) battering away at me, it was epic. At the end of my trip I also discovered that my map showed road distances in miles and mountain heights in metres not feet. Why would you mix imperial and metric! It gets confusing. It did make more sense that I was climbing in metres because they felt like painfully slow imperial climbs.
The next day it was into the Yorkshire Dales, the epicness continued. It was me, myself and Irene for the day again. The unfolding landscape slightly different to that of the adjoining Peak District but just as dramatic with the baron hills, black sky and occasional piece of sun piercing through. Stainforth, my destination for the day, approached and I hoped to get a room in the local pub to dry off. The only one left was a single – that’s fine – but then the room was full of all the laundry and cleaners gear and no cleaners around to tidy up the room. So it was back to camping over a very wet night needless to say a very wet tent to pack up in the morning and weigh me down just a little bit more. Harden up.
