/travel/cycling/Glasgow to Dunnet Head
At long last, a blog entry. The problem with vacation is that you have so much to catch up on when you get back.
So, our cycling trip was a delightful success. We had mostly tailwinds, it rained frequently but only once in a way that interfered with our day, and we made it to our goal. We too a train from Tarbet (on Loch Lomond) to Fort William on on the second day, thanks to the rain. I saw more rainbows in the last 3 or 4 days than the rest of my life combined, I think. The total distance was just over 500km. My odometer was miscalibrated, so we don't know the exact distance. Photos are posted and captioned.
Here's one quick story:
We were cycling along Loch Ness, finally the roads were quiet and we were making good time -- south of there the roads had been busy and narrow enough that we often had to pull off to let traffic pass. We passed a bagpiper at a campground, but decided to keep going since we were making good time. About a kilometer later, we decided it was actually the last campground we knew about for quite a distance, and it was certainly the lats one on Loch Ness, so we decided to go back. We got the last tent spot on the beach, I think, and it was rather slanted.
Let me tell you about midges. Mosquitoes don't really bother me; I grew used to them at summer camp. I thought, given all the places I've been in Canada that claim to have the worst mosquitoes in the world, that midges would be no problem. Hot damn they're annoying. Much smaller, and clingier. They're like those clouds of bugs you somemtimes see on summer evenings in Canadian cities, except they settle down on you and start feasting. They're much more invasive than bigger bugs, too. They left little flat red spots on me, and small bumps on Clare. Mostly they drive you mad, though. And hard to get out of your tent.
Once we were done braving the midges and setting up, and after a quick wade into a cold cold Loch (they're very deep, being formed in the cleavage of two mountains), we went up to the little campground pub. It was fairly full, so we settled down at a table between two families. One was playing dominoes, the other just chatting. I liked the atmosphere of a pub with families in it; I think that, ironically, it helps to keep the parents in line. Of course, it's rather bad for the kids of that breaks down. Anyway, a fellow in full dress stepped up with bagpipes. The bartended introduced him as a German, who had been in Edinburgh (?) to take part in a fundraiser, whose goal was to set the record for the most musicians in a single gathering. How this raises funds, I don't know. In any case, he told some stories, spoke some poems, and played some songs. For certain pieces, the Scots in the room joined in. He ended with Amazing Grace and Auld Langs Syne.
We chatted with the family beside us, up from southern Scotland, I think. When they talked amongst themselves, they were rather hard to follow, but they changed their dialect to talk to us. Usually, anyway -- I asked them what "Inver" meant, as in "Inverness", "Inverlochy," etc. They didn't know, but ended up finding out that it means "Mouth Of", which is really obvious in retrospect, given Inverness' location. Anyway, one said to the other with a thick accent something about adding something to his "ken", meaning knowledge. I've never heard that word used exceptin Scrabble and Boggle, and even then usually only by my mother.
We finished up a glass of beer and headed out to bed, with warm good nights and good wishes from the folks beside us.
I think that was my overall surprise -- the warmness of most places. We had a short stretch where people didn't seem to want tourists, but most of the time they were friendly. Lots of towns just had a tiny shop with less stuff than the Spar across the street from me, and maybe one or two pubs and a small Inn. One of our favourite places was when we hit the north coast, a little town with a pub full of fairly young people who just sat around and chatted between tables. The lack of music was nice, I think. At one point they cracked out a dictionary, to look up Tomarillo. And they were talking about how HP Sauce (very popular around here) stood for "Houses of Parliament". They included us without asking us our story -- no doubt they'd heard it before -- which was somehow more inclusive.
Unfortunately, we slept badly that night, between a cold wind, a slopy tent, and some midges.
That's all for now.
