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 ...