Kirkwall

Returning from the north-western corner of Orkney, against the wind, wasn't so much fun. It started raining.  It was only a shower luckily but I was glad to get to Kirkwall, the capital.  En route I was cheered up by the welcome sign to the hamlet of Evie, which the local boys had changed to Evil.  More empty single-track roads with views of bays and islands, accompanied by the sight and sound of groups of beautiful oystercatchers.  Orkney has 73 islands, 16 inhabited.   I think most of the 23,000 population lives in the two main towns of Kirkwall and Stromness.

The youth hostel is big, with long, low buildings,  military in origin - during the wars the navy was stationed at nearby Scapa Flow.  "Please allow ten minutes for hot water to reach the showers".  But there was a very warm welcome from Dave the warden, who lives here with his wife and two small boys.  What a life (in a good way).  He's also the maintenance man in winter, and a part-time rock climbing instructor.

Due to trains, ferries and alarm clock malfunctions, I'd only managed four hours sleep the last three nights, so I went to bed at 9 for a luxurious ten hours' sleep.

The forecast for tomorrow was for heavy rain all day.  And windy.  I was considering my options.  When I woke it was pouring and low clouds enveloped the hills.  But the forecast had changed. Dry after 10am.  I was welcome to leave my panniers and get a shower before boarding the Shetland ferry at midnight. Yipee!

PS. Outside the Birsay Bay tearoom, my second lunch stop, must be one of the shortest stretches of de-restricted road. About 50 yards leading to one house, the tearoom, and a grassy footpath.

Orkney

Today dawned cloudy, mild and dry.  The ferry to Stromness, on Orkney, left from Scrabster, a - shall we say -functional port maintaining a polite separation from Thurso.  Good views of Hoy as we passed, which looks an amazing place with towering sea cliffs to the South, mellowing to Lakeland type fells which give way to low meadowland to the North.   Not bad for a smallish island.

The main street of Scrabster hugs the bay and is paved with large stones - interesting to ride on.  But it soon gave way to tiny, empty lanes rolling through the fields.  Nice cycling with a fresh breeze behind me, but the terrain is a bit like north Norfolk - easy on the eye but surprisingly tough on the legs.  I wasn't sure if I had eaten enough to fuel my ride so  after 10 miles I stopped at the Skara Brae café, which also had a well-preserved neolithic village, 5000 years old and a World Heritage site. Quite good.

The hills were still troublesome so after another seven miles I stopped at snother café.   Well, who knows how long to the next chance?

John O'Groats

I forgot to mention some wind turbine blades I saw in Wick - they are huge! If you look closely you can see my bike parked in front of them.

The ride from Wick to Thurso via JOG and a couple of headlands was brilliant, not very hilly, although my legs turned tojelly after lunch and the morning's exertions. 

The road to John O'Groats is aptly named the A99: fairly flat and with a tailwind I was soon approaching JOG.  A few clean and keen cyclists were heading the other way, maybe bound for Land's End.  

I visited Duncansby Head first: the most top-rightly point on the British mainland.   Up a hill, but worth it for views of Hoy and the sight and sound of the tide rushing round the corner of Britain to the Pentland Skerries,  apparently a dangerous place for ships at the wrong time of the tide.  Some imposing sea stacks, the Duncansby stacks, and a sheer-walled inlet in the cliffs hosting hundreds of birds, nesting and fishing.  I think I saw a few puffins, with their distinctive flying sausage flight, from a distance,  but someone else thought they were cormorants...

Then to JOG for the mandatory photo, and off to Dunnet Head, which was even better.  To get there the road snaked between lochs of the brightest blue, and the Scottish palette of green, brown ans purple heather just coming into bloom.  It was a long way up but at the top an unbeatable 360 degree panorama took in Hoy to the north, the cobalt blue of the Pentland Skerries and Duncansby head to the East, big mountains and Cape Wrath in the distance to the west, and behind me to the south a patchwork of lochs and a beautiful cove in the cliffs.  The views were too vast to capture in a photo, sorry...

Tonight I'm in Sandra's Backpacker's Hostel in the town of Thurso.  A memorable day.

Cycling at last

The train ride from Inverness, on the Far North Line, was very scenic but I kept thinking what great cycling country I was passing.  I'd highly recommend the train journey from Glasgow to Inverness and onwards North.  But not with a bike.

In the end I got off early where the line rejoined the coast at Golspie,  and cycled the last 20 miles. When I reached Helmsdale the sun was behind the hills, it was getting chilly and the midges were out in force to welcome me.

Helmsdale Hostel is pretty basic but I was made welcome (no, not by the midges) and there were showers, tea and bed, meeting my needs exactly.  I slept soundly and rose early - too early: some fool had set the alarm to 5am.  I was on the road by 6.30, only to find a succession of brutal hills. 

There was nowhere of note for 20+ miles until the port of Lybster.  I wondered what they fished for.  Lybster lobster would no doubt be sought after.   There was a long, steep, dead-end road to the harbour but I had to find out.  And it was worth the journey down: a picturesque harbour with piles of lobster pots everywhere.

Entering the county of Caithness,another 20 miles on much gentler roads took me to the town of Wick, where I was gratified to find crowds of people lining the streets to welcome me.  It turned out that the Queen's baton relay for the Commonwealth Games was passing through, so I stayed to watch.  It was quite a show.   The local police motorcycle came through, lights flashing.   Then the police car.  The motorbike came back and went through again.  An Alba Traffic Management lorry. And the Wick dustbin lorry.  I counted three police officers near me at one stage - surely excessive policing?

To Helmsdale

Today was perfect cycling weather. Blue skies dotted with cotton woll clouds. Unfortunately I was still on the train.

I  had luck on my side though: shortly after my last post, the train manager invited my to move to a berth, so I slept in first-class air-conditioned comfort.  Not for long, as I was up at 5am to try my luck on the 05:30 to Glasgow - successfully. I was allowed to load my bike on condition that I would get off if anyone with a reservation came along.  

Lunch in Glasgow and another train to Inverness, arriving at 15:30 after a stunning panoramic journey through the Cairngorms, patches of snow dotting the high mountains.  My bed for the night awaits, at Helmsdale Youth Hostel, only 97 hilly miles away... 

For the whole journey I wrestled with the possibilities.   At my fully loaded speed it would take about eight hours.  Sunset is late in the far North so it would still be light.   The Cromarty ferry ran until well after I could get to it.  But the cake shops would all be closed - and I wouldn't be able to stop for long anyway.   Would the Youth Hostel still be open at midnight?

It was not to be.  A gap in my circumnavigation - very disappointing. 

What to do with a 2.5  hour wait in Inverness?   Well, a short sightseeing tour, enjoying the glorious sunshine (grrr), and then a bite to eat?  Step forward Mr. Wetherspoon.  Oh -curry night, with a free pint? All right then..

#I'mOnTheTrain ... but ...

Well the adventures have started early.   After a gorgeous ride into London, with Richmond Park, the Thames and the Mall looking perfect in the evening sun, I arrived at Euston to find the sleeper train was cancelled.  And the later one too. Trouble at Carlisle.

Lots of to-ing and fro-ing, and confusion.   I can sleep on the train in the station and get the first one tomorrow.  Except there are no bike spaces.  So I'm going via Glasgow (cycling between two different stations) and changing again at Perth.  Or maybe via Edinburgh, if the Carlisle problem isn't fixed.  What with seat reservations and bike reservations I have SEVENTEEN tickets just for the outward journey. 

There is no ventilation on the train so it will be a sticky night.  Ah well, there's a chance for things to improve later in the fortnight ...

Chapter 2014: The Adventure Continues

A year ago I set out cycling up the East Coast from home in London.   After two weeks of gorgeous weather, amazing scenery and memorable adventures, I ended up in Inverness, having cycled over a thousand miles.   It was such great fun that I was pretty sure I wanted to do more, and over the winter I sketched out a route which continues from Inverness, north to John O'Groats and then on to the northern islands of Orkney and Shetland, which will take many days to explore, returning to continue around the northern highlands of Scotland.

It will be different this time.   I can't expect the same heatwave weather, and the area is far less populated - less chance of randomly finding a bed & breakfast or campsite with space for me, or a café.   I know I could wild-camp but the prospect of lots of rain and nowhere to get clean and dry is not very appealing.  So I've had to plan this a bit more carefully than last time, and I know where I will be staying each night.  On the plus side, I know I will have somewhere to sleep, shower, and maybe eat.  No wild camping.  On the minus side, it takes away the flexibility to go further on easy days or less far on rainy or difficult days.  I hope I've judged it right.  It all looked very inviting to go just a bit further when I was looking at a map on my PC in February, but we will see.

I set off tomorrow (Wednesday 9th), cycling in to catch the sleeper train from Euston to Inverness.  Two weeks later, I hope to be returning on the same sleeper train.  I plan to make regular updates to the blog when there is an internet connection, so I hope you will enjoy reading about the trip.