Daily mileages and maps

Day	miles	ascent (metres)	mph	Destination
1	89.5	373	12	Essex Marina (Burnham on Crouch)
2	69.9	353	11.8	Walton on the Naze
3	74.7	490	11.3	Southwold
4	102.6	775	12.4	Hunstanton
5	93.3	131	13.1	Ingoldmells (Skegness)
6	90.2	216	12.1	Hornsea
7	71.2	720	10.1	Whitby
8	57	691	10.2	Seaton Carew (Hartlepool)
9	85.7	817	10.6	Alnwick
10	63.6	712	10.2	Berwick
11	76.1	844	11.7	Edinburgh
12	89	955	10.9	Dundee
13	83.4	912	10.9	Aberdeen
14	89	1324	11.3	Macduff
15	97.9	723	12.4	Inverness
Totals	1233.1	10036
Average	82.2	669.1	11.4

Daily trip maps

Day 1: Twickenham to Essex Marina: 89.5 miles, 373 m ascent

Day 2: Essex Marina to Walton on the Naze: 69.9 miles, 353 m ascent

Day 3: Essex Marina to Southwold: 74.7 miles. 490 m ascent

Day 4: Southwold to Hunstanton: 102.6 miles, 775 m ascent

Day 5: Hunstanton to Ingoldmells (Skegness): 93.3 miles, 131 m ascent

Day 6: Ingoldmells to Hornsea: 90.2 miles. 216m ascent

Day 7: Hornsea to Whitby: 71.2 miles. 720 m ascent

Day 8: Whitby to Hartlepool: 57 miles, 691m ascent

Day 9: Hartlepool to Alnwick: 85.7 miles 817m ascent

Day 10: Alnwock to Berwick: 63.6 miles 712m ascent

Day 11: Berwick to Edinburgh: 76.1 miles 844 m ascent

Day 12: Edinburgh to Dundee: 89 miles, 955m ascent

Day 13: Dundee to Aberdeen: 83.4 miles 914 m ascent

Day 14: Aberdeen to Macduff: 89 miles 1324m ascent

Day 15: Macduff to Inverness: 97.9 miles 723 m ascent

Some statistics

I need to check all these...

15 days.

Total distance: 1233.1 miles = 82.2 miles a day.

Total ascent : 10036 metres = 669 a day

Total clichés on blog: 489

After words - thanks

There are many people I want to thank for help and inspiration for this trip.

First, I owe a debt to my great friend Rob Steele, who sadly died of a heart attack in 2009, aged just 51.  His family generously gave me his Dawes Super Galaxy bike, which has been everywhere including this trip with me.  Rob would have loved this trip and I'd have loved his company.  The adventures would have been double, and the jokes twice as bad.

I'm riding London to Paris in September in aid of British Heart Foundation, with Rob's daughter Sarah.   If you'd like to sponsor us, we would be delighted.  Click here for my Virgin Money Giving page.

Thankyou to the Wayfarers, who have given me the practice, experience and encouragement to do a long trip.

Thank you to my brother Peter who originally had the idea to cycle round the coast, and gave me the inspiration.

Thankyou to Liz for letting me go.  Now - will she want me back?

Thanks to everyone who's read the blog. Sorry for the verbosity, the over-used superlatives, the blurred photos, the bad jokes, but it's been good to capture the experience and know someone's interested.

To the motorists, who were invarably respectful of the guy on the bike, from the horrid A90 to the smallest loch-strewn lanes.  I never felt any motorist put me in danger.

Thanks too to my bike. No failures, not even a puncture.  Schwalbe Marathon Plus tyres.

And to Wetherspoons, for providing dependable wi-fi, hydration and cycling fuel at very good value for money.

Looking back

Wow- I dreamed of doing it and made it happen.   It was much better than I expected: the places and riding was better, the people I met were great, and the adventures were exciting while never being scary.

A lot of Britain's culture, industry and history is on display at the coast.  Combine that with the geography and the people you meet, and you have a fascinating combination.   Most people are too busy to slow down enough, and listen and look around.  I feel lucky to have had the opportunity (and the weather).

To some people, I haven't cycled far each day: to others it probably seems impossibly far.  That doesn't matter, it was never about the distance.  Almost anyone I know could do something like this ride. The hardest part is deciding to do it: after that, some planning, some hard work and a whole lot of fun.

It's difficult to pick out best bits: the hard times are necessary for contrast, and they make the adventure.  Good riding in Suffolk, the North Yorks Moors, north from South Shields, Northumberland, Fife, Moray.  The variety.  Lots of other places deserve a re-visit too.

The technology generally worked.  The GPS was great, and I never felt I needed a map, although it's always nice to pore over one.  For me, that bit was done in Winter while planning the ride.  Writing the blog worked well too, although it is time consuming on a phone, and I think uploading photos without wi-fi might have been prohibitive (time and usage charges). 

The main difficulty was keeping my phone charged: it needed charging every other day.  Without this, I would have camped more, as it was just as comfortable, and you can start riding earlier.  Some B&Bs don't serve breakfast until 8am.

I didn't quite crack the reliable way to find accommodation or campsites: I thonk because I was turning data off to save the battery, once I switched it on, loads of apps tried to usw it and response became unusably slow. I need to experiment with this.

As always, I took too much stuff. The good weather was to blame.  I took too much food (2kg), and too many changes of clothes.  It was easy to wash things each night although it didn't often dry fully overnight.  Most days I dried stuff on the back of the bike, in a mesh bag.  In continuous wet weather a visit to a laundrette or at least use of a spin dryer might be needed.

The last push

Today started well.  Good weather and a nice view of Banff, just across the river from Macduff.   Round the coast for a bit on NCN1, which didn't seem to have made the detour to Fraserburgh.  Past a remote campsite with nothing but sea, rock pools, sand, and a small river, ideal for damming.  Two small boys playing with stones in a puddle. Perfect.

Then, my route planning let me down.  A small tarmac road led me over a sizeable hill, halfway down the other side, and stopped at a farm.  Where I was supposed to go was a very overgrown jumble of allsorts, waist high. It might have been a track once.  The GPS showed another track jeading straight down the hill so I tried it.  A grassy track led to a track with very long grass, and then to steps down the side of the cliff.  Not much fun, but at the bottom  I was able to rejoin the road via the Glenglassaugh distillery.  I was on the border of Moray - whisky country. 

It was 10.30 and I'd only come 15 miles. Worrying, as I had to get the sleeper train in Inverness.  The next 12 miles were the most beautiful of the day but visited fairly rapidly.  Portsoy, Cullen, Portknockie, Findochty and Buckie all deserved a lot more time.  To summarise: a succession of achingly lovely coves each with a little harbour and a village full of the typical low stone houses, sometimes painted different colours.   Separated by achingly steep hills, whose height reduced as I went west.

Still massively behind schedule, I ignored the call of elevenses and pressed on.  Luckily it was fairly flat after Buckie (the rest of the day)  so when I reached Lossiemouth I not only needed but had time to stop in a little café overlooking the sea.  Express service and I was off again by 1 pm.

I had a Top Gun moment as I was cycling along parallel to the runway at Lossiemouth.   Two jets thundered into the sky, followed by another two.  Song of the day? It was a four-gone conclusion: 'Take my breath away' from the film.  Another two jets: spoiling the joke but this time fighters with full afterburners, so I forgave them.

Only 50 miles to go. Things were looking good, and I allowed myself a quick thought of 'what could possibly go wrong', which is always a mistake.  Back on NCN1, I took a track and then passed a sign warning that the Logan(?) Findhorn Bridge was closed.  I wasn't sure if this affected me., but it was raining by now so I pressed on.  A mile later, the bridge I was due to take had been completely dismantled and was being rebuilt.  There was no way across the river, and no nearby alternative either.

Luckily a diversion was signposted for NCN1, which led onto a very busy road.  The rain was torrential by now, and the road was just a river.  Every passing car gave my bike a jet-wash, for which I wasn't very grateful. Eventually I turned off, onto a road filled with little lochs, and made it to Nairn, nice cycling through forests with the rain just spotting.  Tea at Nairn and onwards. I had plenty of time but just wanted to get there now.

A view over the Moray Firth gave me chance to inspect the sizeable hills on the other side.  Then into Inverness, with two hours spare.  Luckily it's Curry Club at Wetherspoons on Thursday so that was that.  With a pint included in the £5.99 price.  Caledonian ales' Flying Scotsman'.  That'll do nicely, thanks.

Thanks for making the journey with me.  I will post a summary including some statistics, so do take a look tomorrow.   Now, I have a train to catch ...

Back to the hills

Upon further exploration, Peterhead has a busy port with trawlers and some funny looking ships, short and fat with a remarkably small helipad - something to do with the oil industry?  Then a scenic exit along the coast.   The mist had lifted slightly and cormorants were 'sunning' themselves on the rocks.

Fast, flattish riding with the wind to Fraserburgh, which is as far as you can go up the coast from Aberdeen, before turning West for over 100 miles to Inverness, and then on up to John O'Groats.  As I arrive there are some hardy folk in the sea, a couple of them kite surfing.   The first leisure activity using the sea for a long time, if you exclude golf and dog-walking.

Another busy port with industrial fishing, and some imposing stone buildings, but cafés are hard to find.  Eventually soup and a sandwich is procured (tatties & leek soup).
So far I've been cycling 'with the grain' of the landscape but that's about to change.  The ride nicely follows Paul Kelly's rule: no hills in the morning: hills after lunch.  Tim pointed out some nasty-looking chevrons on the map. Better have a chocolate crispy slice, to be on the safe side.

Leaving along the coast road, there was a street of low stone cottages right on the water's edge.  Typical local atyle, and they looked new.  I continued along the coast for a while until Rosehearty where the hills started.

Up to now I've avoided villages where you go and return on the same road, but on this part of the ride the road would miss nearly all the villages.  So with some reluctance I turn off the main road, at 72 metres, to visit Pennan.  A very steep road down to a stunningly beautiful village, one row of houses along the waterfront in a cove surrounded by cliffs.

Pennan is where the film Local Hero was filmed.  I look round nervously for moped riders but there were none.  They would never make it up the hill.  I recognised the pub, which was full of beautiful people, ignoring the beauty outside.

Back up the hill.  It's so steep that by the time I've gone round the sidecand back of the hotel, I'm already at roof level.  Legs don't like doing this from a standing start so I follow Ray Dare's hill-climbing advice of starting slowly while the blood getta pumping, adapting it by continuing slowly too.

The main road, another hill, another turning to Crovie, this time from 152 metres.  Further down and up, but less steep, and the village was just as lovely in a more rustic way.  I passed on the third village of Gardenstown.  Sorry: you'll have to visit yourself.

And on to Macduff, a big town wirh a shipbuilding, or is it ship-mending, port.  Nice rocky shoreline, deserted as usual.  It's a hilly town: turns out my hotel is near the top.  Fish and chips for supper: I look out nervously for seagulls but there is only a fierce-looking bunch of sparrows in a bush.  A good day with not too much rain.  The hills certainly made the scenery spectacular.

In the Mist

That's the story of this morning.  Riding along a misty road, somewhere in Scotland.  Mile after lonely mile.  Not even a potato for company.

The day started badly.  After sleeping well, I got up to a dry morning.   There was a flash and a crack of thunder, and the rain started.  And then, would you believe it, I had to make my own breakfast?  Luckily the rain stopped as I was leaving Aberdeen, port still busy with a couple of large ships heading for the harbour, lights blazing.

After Aberdeen I did see the sea once, after 35 miles at Boddam, a tiny down-and-up village that consisted of an army cadet base and a lighthouse.   Also passed a river estuary at Newburgh where Tim had taken us on a previous visit to see the seals.  I think today was their day off.

The main event of the morning was when a fly hit me in the mouth. Another violent episode.  Cue song of the day: 'I know an old woman who swallowed a fly /I dunno why she swallowed a fly /perhaps she'll die'.  Younger blog readers may like to know this is a humorous song where the lady swallows larger and larger creatures to catch the fly. I listened to it on Family Favourites on the Light Programme, in the olden days.  Come to think of it, if you're a younger reader, you shouldn't be wasting your time in the internet.  Especially if you're called Sarah - you should be out on your bike!

I also found the answer to the cycling nutrition problem I posed earlier.  Such was the interest that the blog went wild with two comments posted.   I can say definitively that rice AND naan bread is not good cycling fuel.  I waited 40 long miles for a café. Eventually at Peterhead, the first big town, I found one which serves deliciously unhealthy sausage rolls.  I can't tell you much else about it, as I was only looking for cafés as I came into town.

Aberdeen

Inverbervie was just a mile further along the coast path, with no rain and good views across the bay, but I'm glad I stopped where I did.  After that it was back up high again, a long enjoyable stretch on tiny, empty roads in the thickening mist. Past ghostly Dunottar castle before descending to Stonehaven, with a picturesque harbour and a good tea shop.  It also claims to be the birthplace of the deep-fried Mars Bar, so it definitely has historic importance.

Just the final stretch of 20 odd miles to Aberdeen.  But the first nearly ten miles were on the busy A90 main road into Aberdeen,  across the tops of the hills, in thickening mist.  It was horrible, although all the traffic gave me a wide berth - I just went as fast as I could to get it over with.  And this is the route that NCN1 recommends.  Awful.  And I won't even mention the RIGHT TURN to get off the A90.

Eventually into Aberdeen round the headland with a couple of oil rigs just off the coast.  The harbour was the busiest I've seen the whole trip with a huge ship just easing out theough a small gap between two other giants.  Dropped in at the station and was abje to book my train home from Inverness. Hurray.

Then up to Tim's where I was made very wecome by Tim and Chris.  It felt like a homecoming, albeit a rather soggy one.

Is this the way to Inverbervie?

Admit it, you were thinking I deserved some rain, weren't you?  So was I. As I climbed oit of the village, as in the song 'I turned my collar to the cold and damp'.  A thought hit me. Ouch! (Sorry, couldn't resist).  Maybe the choice of song was affecting the weather?  I desperately racked my brains for sunny songs.  Whoa! We're going to Barbados / on thw sunny Caribbean sea.  It brightened up a bit, over there. Over here, it was still raining.  'Sunshine Superman' by Donovan: the rain stopped, only 30 minutes later.

At the top of the hill was Lunan Braehead.  I was assaulted again, this time in the nose, by something horrible.  It was only a tiny place. Round the corner a Scottish 'Water' tanker was emptying a cesspit.  I just hope they clean it out before delivering the water.

Onward and downward.  Raining again.  I realised I'd been singing the wrong song. Montrose is a grown-up port with grown-up ships. I stuck to the coast road and I couldn't tell you if it has a scenic centre.  It did have a nice coastal road leading out of town underneath the escarpment, with footballing schoolboys sheltering from the thunderstorm.  At least the bike was getting clean.

Roads under escarpments often end in tears, and this one ended in a vicious climb back up to 85 metres.  Down below me, way down, was Johnshaven, a tiny fishing village with picturesque lines of low cottages lining the sea. NCN1 offered an off-road alternative route along the coast to Inverbervie, 5 miles.   Or back up and along the main road. 

The off road route was almost unrideable, but it led me to the Harbour Bar in Gourdon, a mile short of Inverbervie and selling rolls snd toasties.  Inside were two groups of elderly ladies who'd probably been there a while, who interrogated me immediately as I entered.  'Where are you from'? 'Are you our driver'?  'Nice body'.  I took off my wet waterproof.  'Are you doing a striptease for us'?  You couldn't make it up.

Angus

Full Scottish breakfast at the hotel today, the only difference being the addition of a potato pattie.  Thin drizzle outside and rain forecast, after torrential storms to the South yesterday.

I'm aiming for Aberdeen today to see Tim :-)   Getting near the end of my trip now so Tim's going to try and book my train home.  Out of Dundee past a puny castle, and onto the Angus Coast Path.  Running alongside the railway on tarmac, I pass a military firing area to rhe right, a golf course to the left.  A sign points to Target Shed 3.  Not very inviting.

A field of potatoes reminds me of Lincoln.  Today's song arrives: 'Hello potatoes my old friend /I've come to talk with you again'.  I ask them how they are: just chipper thankyou...

The track goes past deserted, rocky beaches, a profusion of flowers -thistles, poppies, marguerites, some tellow ones - past a station called Golf Street at Carnoustie (loads of golf courses) and on to Arbroath, a nice dozy place with harbour, miniature railway, smoked fish (Arbroath Smokies), café, and toilets, 30p.  Rumbling from the South, and a few spots of rain, but it might be the firing range. 

Tim phoned.  Bad news about trains. No spaces for bikes till next Tuesday, a week away.  And no trains running south of Edinburgh, due to lightning damage.   Still, there are other options so I'm sure I'll get home ok.

It was rain.  Pouring outside now.  Time to go.