Neil & Pete - death by pedal.

Distance travelled: 79 miles
Total distance travelled: 556 miles

Kendal to Bolton

We set off this morning at a little after 8:00, dropping our keys in reception at Chateux de Merd.

A mile or so out of Kendal we stop at a petrol station for coffee and a “breakfast bap” (NOOOOO!!!!!!!).

Now partially fueled up for the morning we set off for our first destination of the day, which is a slight deviation from the route: Morecambe (even though neither of us have short fat hairy legs).

A nice gentle ride saw us reach Morecambe by mid morning, riding along the cycle friendly promenade for a good mile or so.

On reaching a sandy beach we stopped for ice cream - as it would have been rude not to.

A double scooper: lemon meringue flavour(!) and raspberry swirl. With a flake shoved in (obviously).

The sun was out, we are sitting on the front eating ice cream: perfect.

We cycled further on to the statue of Eric Morecambe and took a couple of photos. Then it was a case of cutting back to Lancaster and picking up the route again.

No gel seat again today and my bum is appreciating the gesture. Mr Jagger appears to have left the building.

We chose to avoid the centre of Preston by taking back roads round and over the top before dropping down between Preston and Blackburn.

That was the intention anyway…

Richard: thank you so much for the offer and sorry we couldn’t take you up on it. Had I known we would definately have planned a stopover in Preston but as things had panned out we were due to press for Bolton today.

We were again lucky with the weather: warm and sunny with no danger of rain.

We had lunch at a crossroads in the middle of nowhere - very civilised.

As we picked our way through the small back roads a few hilly nasties crept in - but none were too long.

Having skirted Preston and gone through a few small villages we come to a town (can’t remember the name - it’s late as I type this…….so shoot me) -we need to cycle along the high street……which is uphill.

Now, although we’re not quite talking old man up the hill in the Hovis ad steep, it was still steep nonetheless.

Unfortunately the schools had just turned out and there were kids everywhere, which meant only one thing…….

We must not stop at any cost.

So like a pair of plonkers we press on up this hill, going way past the point where we should have got off and rested/walked.

There’s biting off more than you can chew, and then there is filling your gob up so much you can’t breath and suffocate to death.

Don’t ask me how, but we made it to the top and turned the corner where - safely out of sight of all those little…….”rascals” (they were probably carrying blades at the very least) we keeled over and quietly slipped into a coma.

A few more miles then we reached the end of the route that was loaded in the GPS - it was time to load the next stage up.

This is where things took a turn for the worse (hmmmm……a familiar phrase).

For starters, things started to get a bit horribly hilly, then the GPS decided to re-route us.

Through Bradford.

In rush hour.

Fortunately I worked out what had happened…….when we reached the city centre.

Now I had three main issues to occupy my mind:

1. Work out a way out and back onto the route.

2. Avoid getting hit by a car or lorry.

3, Avoid getting stabbed.

Fortunately we (eventually) managed all three.

Back on the route to Bolton, knackered, we are delighted to see another huge climb before us.

I don’t think it’s ever a sign of picking the best road when the hill at the top of it has so many antennaes and transmitter masts on it that it looks like some weird tribute to Don King.

Anyways, after some tourette mumbles (shouting was too much effort) we arrive on the outskirts of Bolton.

(BOLTON backwards is NOTLOB)

Pete is some way ahead of me in Mr Bean Movie Star Mode and we are on a cycle path.

2 girls are walking towards me. They are probably around 15 years of age and strangely…….neither of them are pregnant.

As we approach each other I hear:

“what you doing cycling with all those bags and stuff?” (I’m afraid I can’t do the accent)

“I’m moving house” was my hilarious rapid reply.

I’m pretty sure they believed me.

We roll up at the guest house a little after 7:00. It’s been an 11 hour cycle day.

Fleur - one of the proprietors - asks if we have any clothes we’d like washed and dried. She didn’t need to ask a second time.

We get talking and it turns out she is a very keen cyclist.

Too tired to be bothered to go out and eat we order in pizza, which we eat in the bar whilst talking about our C2C trip with Fleur.

By the end of the evening the bar is strewn with various ordinance survey maps in various scales - Fleur has offered us her local knowledge and we have completely re-planned the route we are taking tomorrow (for the better).

We would have done it quicker if these irritating people hadn’t kept coming in wanting to buy drinks.

Distance covered: 60 miles
Total distance covered: 477 miles

Carlisle to Kendal

We decided at breakfast yesterday (full English) to make it a rest day. So off I toddle to reception to see if we can stay another night.

I’m informed that they are fully booked.

Now, whilst I’d like to think my charm and charisma made a difference at this point, I suspect it was the pieces of skin falling from my peeling nose onto the reception desk that made her come back with a new offer in order to make me go away.

We can have the disabled guest rooms.

And what an adventure playground they turned out to be.

Red emergency cords everywhere (”what if I just pulled…….”), you feel like a giant because everything is lower down, but most important of all:

A bathroom full to the brim with handrails.

Why so important?

Basically, it’s one big clothes horse.

Within minutes there wasn’t a single bit of red tubing in the bathroom that didn’t have something damp draped over it.

Luxury.

We rounded off our rest period this morning with a little treat: a full English breakfast (mustn’t do that too often) then we were off.

We blindly followed the GPS directions away from the hotel before realizing the route in the GPS was taking us to it’s start point at the edge of Carlisle - we were re-tracing our route in - DOH!

Still, every cloud and all that: it meant we got to to round the M6 junction roundabout again. I find them such relaxing places to cycle don’t you?

So back into Carlisle, out the other side and on to the A6. In terms of traffic this was a very nice road to cycle as there wasn’t a great deal of it (and the road is reassuringly wide).

I was cycling today with my gel seat cover off to see if it made much of a difference. I think it did, but can’t be certain if the rest day helped too. Will keep it of tomorrow and see what happens.

Things were by no means perfect in that department - the website name is still valid.

We have another song for the soundtrack: Satisfaction by The Rolling Stones.

I’m not going to spell out the explanation, suffice to say….

Stones logo + transplant it elsewhere = reason.

Anyhoo, before too long we made it to Penrith - the last time we were here was a little over a month ago on the C2C ride.

We then left the A6 and began a dog-leg into the Lake District along low, reasonably flat roads that hugged the edge of the lake (lakes in the Lake District……who’d have thought?).

It was whilst riding along one of these stretches that I had the enormous pleasure of having a fat boy fly enter my open gob while I’m doing about 20mph, hit the back of my throat, then start heading South.

You know those wildlife films where you see the mother bird looking like she is hocking up a loogie as she regurgitates food to feed her young?

Well I managed a pretty accurate impression of it.

We decided to stop and take lunch by the edge of said lake in an area where cars could not be parked.

It was all very English: rolling hills, green trees everywhere, sitting at the waters edge feeding ducks bits of bread from my quintessentially British chicken tikka sandwich.

We reached the end of the lake and continued deeper into the Lake District itself, heading towards Windermere.

Now, it was all going swimmingly following the rolling road as it followed the foothills of the hills/mountains, when suddenly on the horizon was a gift wrapped hernia.

Horizon may be a misleading term, as it implies something in the distance at eye level. This sight however could only me taken in by looking up………way up.

I remember as a kid reading a story about a boy who built a ladder to the moon.

Well the road in front of us was unquestionably the inspiration for that story.

It was insane - should not even be legal

Now I’m all for preserving the natural beauty of this great island, but if ever there was a case for dynamiting a bit of rock to kingdom come this was it.

I’ve no idea how long it took to reach the 1500ft summit (too long), but when we did - and my vision eventually returned - the ride down the other side made it (almost) worth it.

Just like playing Gran Turino (but in cycle form) we hurtled downhill, round bends safe in the knowledge that the razor sharp edges of the stones that made up the dry walls would prevent us from absailing without a rope to the ground several hundred feet below.

The tarmac was lovely and smooth too. So if we were to fall off, even though the skin would be removed from our legs and face, it would have been ripped off in a nice consistent manner.

So, a few more moans and groans later we arrive at Kendal - famous for producing Kenneth: a BBC newsreader from the 70s (OK….I made that bit up).

It’s actually known for the “world famous Kendal mint cake” (I love the fact that they have to tell you it’s world famous)

We checked in to a place in Kendal for the night. I’m not going to name it for reasons that will soon become apparent.

The place is so truly awful, it’s utterly brilliant.

I have a peverse liking for truly awful 50s B movies, and I think the same driving force is causing me to like this dump.

Photos will be made available in due course, but to give you a flavour:

The hot water in the shower isn’t. The hot water in the sink is thermo nuclear.
I couldn’t shower, so I stood in the bath (admiring the broken extractor with the fuse removed) and used the drinking glass (apologies to the next resident) to pour hot water from the sink over me.

Why didn’t I use the flannel?

What flannel?

The room really should have been redecorated……….around 1968.

Health and safety is for other people to worry about, as indicated by the smashed - but live - plug socket in the hallway.

There are only 2 plug sockets in the room, while looking for a third (to charge the phone) I moved the bed away from the wall.

Joy of joys - no plug but an actual time capsule lay before my very eyes: dust, cobwebs, and dead (possibly fossilized) spiders dating back to before I was born.

I’m surprised rooms of this quality aren’t rented out by the hour.

Then again, maybe they are. That would explain why they don’t offer breakfast.

God only knows if I’ll catch anything when I get in the bed.

Best forty quid I could have spent - a definite highlight of the trip.

I realize it has been a while since I gave an interesting biological anecdote. Here is a current one that is a bit…..hmmmmm…….delicate in nature so I will use an analogy in order to inform:

You know how those cans of expanding foam you get at the DIY store seem to output a far greater volume of stuff than can possibly have been put into the can…….?

(I’ve said too much)

Todays proud sponsor of the scenic view is…….

We have decided to take a rest day.

Pete has had developments at work that he would prefer to get addresed and out the way, and I have a bit of a work backlog to clear too.

Resting the legs (and bums) might not be such a bad idea either.

The fact that we are in a hotel, with it raining outside, and England play today………..is purely coincidental
Back on the saddle tomorrow.

No more treats……..from tomorrow

Distance covered: 88 miles
Total distance covered: 417 miles

Failford to Carlisle.

Like any self respecting Springsteen concert: that was a long one!

You know when you have dental work that requires an injection or two, then when it’s all done you can’t actually feel anything but you just know it’s pretty bad?

Well say hello to my bum. It’s gone through the cycling equivalent of a root canal today.

Last nights dinner was courtesy of the local pub in Failford where we met another person to add to our ever increasing list of all round top drawer, nice friendly people we have met on this ride.

This time it was the pub chef.

After cooking us a superb steak pie (me) and cod (although it was as big as a whale) and chips (Pete) he came out and asked if we were cycling North or South.

This led to a discussion about routes and distances.

He disappears, and comes back with his SatNav to give us more accurate figures.

The conversation continues on to hills and terrains.

Our man disappears again, returning with a road map. The plates are pushed aside and he discusses numerous options with us. TOP BLOKE.

Now, if you are ever in the Failford area and need a place to stay, forget hotels. Do yourself a favour and book into the Woodland Cottage.

If B&B/Guest Houses were cars, this place would be a Rolls Royce.

Nothing is too much trouble, and they go out of their way to make sure your stay is as comfortable as possible.

From the welcoming drink when we arrived, to the homemade jam (awesome) for the toast at breakfast, I really cannot think of a single fault with it, or the very nice couple who run it.

End of discussion - just do it. You WILL thank me.

So, after a full English breakfast (not to be eaten every day) we were off.

Once again, luck was on our side with the weather: it was raining at breakfast, but by the time we had loaded the bikes it had stopped, and remained dry for the rest of the day. Cooler than yesterday, with a little bit of wind - but not enough of either to pose any real problem.

We knew today was going too be one of the lesss glamourous stages of the ride.

We had to get across to Dumfries, and the only practical way was by cycling 50-odd miles along the A76 - the main trunk road. So it as a case of iPod on (fear not, concerned reader - the music was only in one ear), head down, and just pedal.

Not much time to take in the views or take photos, the road was fast (but traffic not too heavy) - our priority was reaching Dumfries.

We achieved this by mid-afternoon. Next destination: Gretna.

This was via another A-road, and this time we really were running the gauntlet.

Fast, heavy traffic, and narrow -we had to keep our wits about us.

Fortunately there are no horror stories to tell. Eventually the road widened and the traffic thinned.

About 7 miles before Gretna I realised I was weakening quite a bit - I was hungry and had to eat.

A short detour resulted in Steak & Ale pie and chips (yummy) - problem fixed.

Now it was a case of no stop till Gretna (slowing down and yelling about the pain in your backside does not count as stopping).

We had decided to take a view on what to do once we reached Gretna: stay there for the night, or press on to Carlisle.

We reached Gretna around 6:30 and this is where technology came into its own.

The GPS provided details of places to stay, a 3G connection to the internet and Google gave us access to phone numbers.

After 15 minutes we were sorted: we were carrying on to Carlisle where a treat awaited us: separate rooms in a hotel, and a late start in the morning.

Just after 8:00 we had arrived.

My room may well look like a Chinese laundry with the damp clothing all over the place, but the bed is huge, I have air con, and breakfast is served until 10:00am.

Luvly Jubly.

Something that has suprised the pair of us is that we are only about 10 miles from the border with Scotland yet there is not a Scottish accent to be heard anywhere - it is as if we have flown back to England from a far flung country.

Please keep making comments to the blog entries - we enjoy reading them all (even ones questioning the masculinity of my pins) and if you are a lurker who has not posted a comment - don’t be shy, it is reassuring for us to know there are people out there who can help guide the emergency services to us

What have I learnt about cycling whilst on this ride?

Don’t try and cycle 50+ miles in a thong (I dont know what I was thinking)
I’ve also learnt to have an appreciation of a good tarmac surface.

No punctures yet (fingers crossed) - the only problem has been my chain coming off a few times (probably down to me being too trigger happy).

Gibbs: I would cycle naked through every major city in England before donning a carrot and spew shirt - you KNOW that!

The art of napkin display has clearly sparked a lot of interest - it looks like a good business venture for someone to exploit dahn saahf.

BEAR ATTACK!!!! (well no…..Petes pedal…but it still hurt)

Distance covered: 54 miles
Total distance covered: 329 miles

Alexandria to Failford


Another pasta based dinner(!) then it was back to a twin room for the third night running (I didn’t know Rab C. Nesbitt ran a B&B).

After lights out we discovered the man in the next room had a double bassoon and was practicing with some vigour (it HAD to be that because no human could possibly snore that loudly).

It even disturbed his pet elephant on several occasions as we could hear it clearly having a disturbed night tossing and turning.

A full English breakfast in the morning (can’t do that every day) followed where we had the opportunity to marvel at the display cabinet of napkins (worth the trip for that alone).

Then it was time to saddle up and head towards Glasgow.

Not surprisingly the roads became a lot busier, with heavier and faster traffic. Being overtaken at 70mph+ is……hmmmm……invigorating.

Fortunately we didn’t have to go right into Glasgow, instead taking the Erskine bridge across the Clyde (it had a cycle path - lovely) we were back into quiet open countryside in no time. (I have no sense of smell - fortunately Pete was on hand to give me regular updates on the various countryside odours)

Picking our way through a few towns and villages we headed South to our destination: Failford.

The weather has - again - been very kind. Mostly overcast we have finally had a cooler day (not that we’re complaining about the sunny ones).

When the sun did break through the clouds we decided to take lunch: sandwiches sitting by a quiet B-road in the middle of open fields accompanied only by some cows, horses, and the radio of a clearly deaf farmer sitting in his tractor half a mile away.

The B&B we are in tonight is OUTSTANDING. Tea and coffee made for us as soon as the bikes were unloaded, and enjoyed in the comfort of our own lounge(!).

Most important of all: single rooms.

After 3 failed attempts a full nights sleep is on the cards.

Tomorrow we leave Scotland - so need to make sure we have offloaded all that toy paper money before crossing the border (I mean seriously, with a permanent 1:1 exchange rate why donthey even bother?).

One of the lasting impressions I’ll take away from Scotland will undoubtedly be the huge variety of wildlife we have seen: badgers, deer, pheasant, fox, numerous birds of prey, goats, sheep….the list goes on and on.

Scotland really has a staggering range of roadkill.

mmmmm……..gorgeous!

Distance covered: 72 miles
Total distance covered: 275 miles

Barrachulish to Alexandria


After a pub dinner we return to the B&B and meet the owner (he wasn’t in when we arrived).

No sooner had we gone up the stairs and entered our room he appeared out of nowhere - not unlike the shopkeeper in Mr Benn.

Pete was convinced he floated up the stairs.

Wind the clock forward and the lights are out but the conversation continues. I mention how he looked like a slightly younger Mr Granger from Are You Being Served.

After a slight pause Pete realizes who it is he’s reminded of.

Crippin.

This is where things started to go downhill.

If we were in a school classroom we would definately have been split up by now.

Eventually things quiten down and it looks like sleep might be an option.

Then the radio starts blaring out.

Some joker had set the alarm for midnight (one to remember for a future B&B).

Anyway, the last time I recall checking the time it was 12:50am.

So this morning after a full English (can’t let that become a habit) we leave Crippin Lodge and head for The Trossachs.

The weather forecast this morning predicted a much cooler day. Well they could have fooled me. Clear blue skies, brilliant sunshine, it was definately not cooler.

Within 2-3 miles we are beginning a climb that just went on and on and on.

Not outrageously steep but outrageously long, it was a climb of 1100ft. When we reach the top and stop for a drink we realize the peaceful silence is being broken by a bagpipes player (this is not a joke).

After a long tiring climb, feeling hot knackered and thirsty, bagpipe music does not feature high on things I want.

Today was a hard day. Definately the hardest so far.

Keeping the map updated had been a problem today - being so remote meant long stretches with no updates.

Now, if we still had the technology of 100 years ago…….tap tap tappity tap and we’d be sorted.

I digress

Up and down we went along the UNDULATING road through the Trossachs, past chairlifts at ski resorts (some mountains were snow capped) before a nice long descent to Loch Lomond.

The views from the road as we ride the length of the Loch were outstanding. Spoilt only by the surface of the road itself which was in desperate need of resurfacing.

In a car, this amounts to a slight annoyance easily fixed by turning up the volume on the radio.

On a bike, no such luck.

By the end it felt like I was sitting on a couple of Space Hoppers.

I think I’ve made my point.

On we pressed to Alexandria, arriving at our B&B just before 7:00 (our longest cycling day yet).

A twin room for the third night running is in store - need to be careful we don’t get detention.

Distance covered: 74 miles
Total distance covered: 203 miles

Lochend to Ballachulish

So after a shower and scrub up we took a cab into Invernes for an Italian (pasta - arent we good?).

Getting to sleep was….well….a challenge. I was expecting a knock on the door from the Headmaster asking “will you boys keep it down in there?!”

This morning was nice: overcast, so a nice cool start to the day. Cycling along Loch Ness with a mist hanging in the air was very….hmm….celtic.

Getting a signal for transmitting the GPS data has been a bit hit and miss today - so sorry to anyone avidly monitoring the map for updates.

By mid morning the sun began to break through and the temperature began to rise. We wasnt going to complain though as once again there was no wind at all.

Road-wise it was very palatable: slopes and flats. Lovely.

The 26 miles of Loch Ness seemed to pass too quickly, then we were heading on through more outstanding scenary towards Fort William on the A82.

We knew that this particular stretch of road was pretty notorious (google “A82 accidents” for some soothing bedtime reading) - and it ived up to the reputation.

It is……well……a tad alarming when you are cycling along, can see traffic comng towards you in the the other lane, and can then hear the loud enginie noise of a lorry behind you. You then discover that the lorry is attempting to overtake you. You know this because the car facing you is flashing his lights in an alarming manner.

This took place on a straight stretch of road that went right through some woods.

I cannot speak for bears, but I very nearly did.

Still, not to worry because this little episode was overshadowed a short while later by a moron in a 4×4 who only thought he had to get his seat past me before pulling back over. The fact that he had a trailor with a huge pipe rolling around in it (and overhanging the back) did not seem to cause him any concern.

The space between me and the trailor was 3 inches tops.

This brought about a temporary case of cycling tourettes - which he either heard or saw in the mirror. 10 minutes later he is pulled over in a layby with the bonnet up (shame) and looked very sheepish as we approached.

I did what anyone would do in these circumstances and gave him my hardest Paddington Bear stare.

I think the effect of this stare may have been weakened due to the fact was wearing sunglasses at the time.

A little later I enjoy a lorry attemping to make a puree out of me in order to avoid the oncoming car he didnt see as he tried to overtake me on a bend.

This stretch of the A82 is a bit like chronic diarrhea: not something you want to experience too often.

Still, we survived and made it to Fort William (similar jolt to the system as Inverness yesterday), out the other side and down along more outrageous landscape to Ballachulash (pronounced “Barry Ghoulash”…..well…..at least by me anyway) where we have set up shop for the night.

Tomorrow we head into the Trossachs (a joke at this point would be too easy).

So a pretty lively day all in all, we need something a little more sedate so have decided to play Russian Roulette.

Conclusive proof. Case closed.

Distance covered: 59 miles
Total distance covered: 129 miles

Golspie to Lochend

Yesterday, after having a shower I check in the mirror to see a sun-dried tomato looking back at me.
The outside of my left calf now resembles a piece of chicken left on the bbq for too long.

The right leg still has my usual pale white goth/emo/Giesha Girl complexion.

Why is that?

We walked a mile or so the Golf Club, only to find a sign in the door telling us the restaurant was closed.

Oh how we laughed.

We walk up to the main street - town would be too strong a term - and find a hotel.

It had no restaurant (no doubt not much call for food).

We find another hotel with a bar - no food but they tell us we can buy a chinese from the takeaway and eat it in the bar.

Which is what we did.

The bar was an……….erm….drinkers bar. Lets leave it at that.

Pete summed it up perfectly: “I wouldnt want to be in there about an hour from now”.

A good nights sleep and English breakfast followed (must not make it a habit) and off we go.

We struck gold for the second day running: no wind, clear blue skies and a lot of bright sunshine.

It was HOT……..REALLY HOT.

But we will take heat over wind every time.

The ride today was pretty casual. With less than 60 miles to cover we took it easy - a nice long break for lunch, and a total stoppage time today of 2 hours 19 mins.

There were no real horror stories today - most of the route was undulating with a few long slopes/hills.

There are 2 hills that stick out: the first one was after only 4 miles. It wasnt particularly bad, but as it takes 5 or 6 miles for everything to settle down and the body to hit a comfortable rhythm, it just felt worse than if we had met it later on.

We displayed a fantastic amount of willpower by cycling straight past the visitor centre at the Glenmorangie Distillary and pressed on towards Inverness.

The second stand-out hill was on the approach to Inverness: a long climb from sea level to a height of 550ft. Not outrageously steep, but very very long so it was a case of head down and slog it out.

Pete has developed a form of cycling tourettes which seems to be aggravated whenever a hill comes into view.

One of three words are usually shouted out at this point - none of which I can repeat here.

I doubt the situation will deteriorate, but will keep you posted on any further developments.

The road became more lively the closer we got to Inverness. In fairness, 99.99% of drivers are absolutely fine and give a nice wide berth.

Lorries and coaches are no problem at all, on the odd occassion
it has been exciting its always a small car - particularly Corsas and the odd Yaris.

Arriving in Inverness was a bit of a shock to the system. Suddenly we found ourselves in a city - with everything that comes with it: heavy traffic, loads of people and an awful lot of noise.

Then almost as abruptly, it ended.

Leaving Inverness we say goodbye to the East coast and pick up the A82.

Like all good Pet Shop Boys it was time for us to Go West (track 5).

So on we cycled for the final 10 miles to our destination: Lochend. It is at the very Northern end of Loch Ness (the clue is in the name).

The view from the room is awesome, I can see the edge of Loch Ness 200 yards away as I type.

So day 2 is over and we face a new fresh challenge.

We are in a twin room.

D’you want fries with that?

Distance covered: 69.4 miles.

John O’Groats to Golspie

Todays the day we finally get to leave John O’Groats (yippee!).

Breakfast at 7:45 (when the doors opened), checked out, loaded the bikes then down to the start line. Snap snap, bid farewell to the derelict Munsters house and we’re off.

We won the lottery today. With odds over over 14 million to one we chose to start on THE DAY there was no wind

The first 30 or so miles were an absolute doddle. Zero wind, clear blue skies, a calm blue sea to look at the entire way, and a relatively flat and quiet road to ride along.

“Summer Breeze” has made it on the soundtrack.

We knew there were 2 nasties in store today, starting around the 35 mile mark.

Now, we learnt something today that neither of us are ever likely to forget.

When you leave Wick (about 16 miles outside JOG) there is nowhere to get drink or food until you reach Helmsdale (about 52 miles from JOG). Not nowhere nice…….nowhere AT ALL.

After getting over both said nasties I could quite literally feel the energy drain away from my legs.

When my legs and arms started shaking I thought it might be wise to stop and eat an energy bar. The effect these things have on you is pretty impressive.

Whilst not quite as effective as spinach is to Popeye, after 5 minutes you feel ok enough to carry on. This we did, and the bar gave enough life to my legs for us to reach Helmsdale.

One pie and chips, Fanta and choc ice later and I’m wondering what all the fuss was about.

Another fact from the book of the bleeding obvious, but one that was rammed home today nonetheless: food is nothing more than fuel. Doesn’t matter how much you tart it up or present it, it’s just fuel.

(and if you don’t use it you end up with a tanker)

So, fully refreshed and refuelled we pressed on for the remaining 17 or so miles to Golspie - our home for the night.

The Golf Club has been recommended for its food so that’s where we’ll be heading later.

It’s nice to have the first day under our belts. I think the distance was just about perfect, as was the weather.

If I could go back and change one thing, it would be to stick a sandwich in one of the bags.

Tomorrow is a shorter ride to the top of Loch Ness, so we will be having a slightly more leisurely start to the day.

After a full English breakfast (need to make sure that doesn’t become a habit) we bid farewell to Andrew and the van -leaving us with only one way of getting out of Scotland.

We cycled a 32 mile ‘there and back’ to Dunnets Head - the most Northern point on the mainland. Saw loads of seals down at the waters edge - it has been a nice warm blue sky day so we didn’t feel the need to club any for their skins
Wind has been a feature today (not me - weather-wise). It’s a very odd sensation to stand looking out to sea and have the wind at your BACK. The more alert reader will have worked out what we probably have in store for us tomorrow as we head off inland (sigh).

We’ve been and had our photo taken at the “world famous” sign (photographer changed the date on the sign to tomorrow), wrote an entry in the End to End register and had our forms stamped. We did all this today to save time tomorrow - we want to make an early-isg start but the place doesn’t wake up until mid morning.

Tomorrow we will go back down to the start line (it’s painted on the road), quick photo then off.

Now, I don’t want to use this blog as an opportunity to slag off John O’Groats. I’m sure people have come and had a very nice time here and I wouldn’t want to write anything that may upset them.

But…………

Unless you are here because you are doing an end to end, or you are visiting the Orkney Islands I cannot for the life of me understand why anyone would want to visit.

The place is absolutely barren. When you head North out of Inverness you hit nowhere. Drive 120 miles through nowhere until you reach the sea, aka the end of nowhere. Welcome to John O’Groats.

There is a hotel right at the end next to the signpost. It stands derelict and fenced off. The considerate contractors have positioned the fencing so that it doesn’t cover the start/stop line on the road. The knackered building will make a lovely backdrop for any starting/finishing photo opportunity.

I’m not sure what I was expecting but I know it wasn’t this. I can’t help thinking that if were doing this ride the other way round (I.e. the easy way) the end would feel like a huge anti-climax.

I’ve just thought of a reason why you would want to visit John O’Groats:

to have the satisfaction of leaving it.

Anyhoo……

We made sure to be back at the hotel for 3:00 as today is cup final day.
Something I’ve been aware of for many years, but placed little importance on because it’s just a trivial fact, is that the Scottish cup final is played on the same day.

Unbelievably, up here they regard the Scottish final as the priority fixture and the Wembley final isn’t shown ANYWHERE.

After not watching the cup final we cycled out to Duncanbys Head (2.5 miles each way- most North Easterly point). Very impressive coastline with stacks and things.

Dinner and an early night then we can finally get started.

Todays interesting factoid: dusk doesn’t even think of starting until 11:00. We could easily ride our bikes until then with no lights in complete safety (something I hope we won’t need to take advantage of).

When I woke this morning I thought I had overslept as my room was brightly lit and it was broad daylight outside. When I checked the clock I saw it was only 4:28.

They can only get about 4 hours of darkness a night up here at this time of the year.

A truly glorious sight!

The most Northerly point - don’t tell John O’Groats