Taynish Nature Reserve

The Tayvallich Inn doesn't serve food till 6pm, in case you needed to know.  So, after a couple of pints and a very nice beef madras, I had a great idea. It was still early: why not visit the nature reserve near my B&B?  My previous B&B host had recommended it and given me a leaflet. "Wonderful views over the peninsula to Jura from the top of the hill. Maybe best to walk though", she said.  But the leaflet said "cyclists welcome". The short trail was only 3km. 
The first 1km was on a tarmac road, mostly downhill with nice views if a loch.  At the turning a path wound through woodland, and soon became too narrow to cycle, so I walked.  A few steps, so I had to carry the bike.  Then a wall of steps, the sort that makes your heart sink.  But I was thinking about the view and knowing it would be flat on top, so I sweated up the steps. More winding path, more steps, etc. 
Eventually, the top, a grassy, ferny meadow full of bluebells - you know, the protected sort.  The path was about wide enough for two feet, but not really a bike. Riding was out of the question. So more walking ensued, very close to the bike, which means the pedals kept attacking my ankles.  Hopefully no bluebells were harmed, and the view of Jura was nice, but I was more worried about the view back down to the lock, 100m below. 
The down was worse than the up: more rocky steps cut into a near cliff: so steep that the steps had hairpin bends in them. And cycling shoes have slippery metal bits in the soles, requiring great care.  I had to put the bike on my shoulder to keep it away from the slope, but I got down safely with only flesh wounds to my shins, wondering what they meant by "cyclist friendly". Did it mean cyclists without bikes?
Back at my very expensive B&B (£58!!) I recovered by having a shower, which was a bit like the shower scene from Psycho (which I've never watched by the way - too scary). Or was it Rosemary's baby? Never seen that either, but any horror addicts will get the idea.   There aren't many B&Bs round here because not many people come here. I wonder why?  And you don't even get a cooked breakfast!  Nice view of Tayvallich from my bedroom window though.

Cake-away!

Nice ride round to Tayvallich, where I'm staying tonight.  It's an attractive, sunny village spread along a sheltered bay off Loch Sween.

The coastline round here has lots of fingers pointing south and a bit west. Tayvallich is at the top of one of those. There is no reason to cycle to the fingertip, but I did anyway, against a continuing fresh wind.  Jura is very close to here, and you could see it raining over there.

On the way back, I noticed a hut by the road, with a notice "Cake-a-way". It was a self-service cake shop with maybe ten types of cake, all​ cut into portions, and an honesty box.  What a great idea!  At least one of the cakes was delicious.  It seemed a very remote place for such a well-stocked shop, about a mile out of town on the road to nowhere, but while I was there I met the lady who runs it, a mother of three small boys.  She told me people find her on Facebook (search for Cake-a-way) and plenty of visitors to Tayvallich get recommendations from the locals.  There should be more of these.   It started to spot with rain, so I retired to the local pub, shockingly, at 5pm.

Crinan

Yesterday was too much cycling, not enough lazing about.  I blame the planners: sitting in their warm houses, not paying attention to details like contours, unpaved roads and so on.
Today will be different. Less at London pace and more at the pace of the Highlands.  For a start, the 20 extra miles I had to do yesterday to find accommodation is 20 miles less today.
As I left the B&B, the owner, Mark, was fixing a quad bike, an operation that needed a six foot crowbar and a couple of sledgehammers. Ardfern is on a sea loch, and I cycled down to the end of the peninsula alongside Loch Craignish among a profusion of flowers - everything seems to have flowered at the same time.  There was nothing at the end of the road except a few canoeists, preparing for an expedition among a garish explosion of primary-coloured canoes and kit.  It was a lovely seven miles before I returned to Ardfern for my pannier and set out to conquer the beallach (=big hill) over to the next valley and Kilmartin, where I found a museum and café and sat outside in the sunshine with a few midges for company.

At Kilmartin I told a couple of cyclists about my plan to use a cycle track on the way to Crinan. "It's a bit rough; ok for mountain bikes" they daid, eyeing my bike dubiously. 

It was fine.  Following a wooded stream, then a line of Bronze age burial cairns, each built of thousands of football-sized boulders. What effort must they have taken, in days when survival was a daily struggle?

A bit later I stopped to photograph a bluebell-carpeted wood.  "Hello Simon".   My landlady from Ardfern had found me for a second time: small world.  

The last few miles were along the towpath of the Crinan Canal, built for Glasgow-bound ships to bypass the Mull of Kintyre and emerging 9 miles later at Lochgilphead, at the head of Loch, er, Gilp.  My bit of the canal wound its way along the estuary, where, imbrobably, four youngsters seemed to be enjoying a swim.

Tiny Crinan is a picturesque spot with a couple of locks onto the loch (see what I did there?), a mini lighthouse, sunshine, sea boats, and a convenient lunchtime cafe.

A cunning plan?

As I cycled slowly through the tiny village of Ardfern, trying to make out house names in the gloaming, a voice: "Simon, is that you?".  My B&B had found me, and 18 1/2 hours after leaving home I was very pleased to arrive to a friendly welcome.

Oban sparkled like a bright sapphire in the afternoon sun.  I had fallen in love with it just by looking at it on a map (weird, I know), and arriving last year in the grey rain was a disappointment.   Today I was sorry to leave, and took a couple of detours and a dozen or so photos first.

I'm definitely still in the Highlands.  Lumpy roads led me to Seil Island, one of the islands dangling off the west coast, and reached by a beautiful old bridge, which was overlooked by a pub. Tempting, but I didn't have time.

The whole of Seil island is as picturesque as it is hilly.   The jewel of Seil is Ellenabeich, a coastal hamlet backed by tall cliffs, with a small harbour and not just a pub but a micro-brewery.  Only time for a few photos and no beers.  Highly recommended for a visit.

Dangling off Seil is another island, Luing, but my cunning plan was thwarted by the fact that the ferry was just about to have a 90 minute tea break, so I wasn't able to visit - in hindsight, a good thing.

This plan wasn't working out too well, and it got worse. Leaving Seil my route turned South, but there was a suspicious 'no through road' sign.  Consulting some other cyclists who had a map proved that my planned route went over a big hill on a bridleway, for several miles.  It would have been a disasters. Who planned this anyway?   I went back (up a big hill) to the main road instead.  Serves me right.

Even though I was on the main road, there was hardly any traffic, and it was enjoyable cycling along the coast to within a few miles of my destination where I arrived at Craobh Haven, a sort of marina port with a lot of leisure yachts, and a nice pub. It was past dinner time so I was forced to stop.  

It was only three miles to the B&B in Ardfern, but there was one final surprise: the road to Ardfern wasn't a road but a track. Just like riding the Pilgrims Way again, only with puddles. And bigger hills.   But actually, it was not too bad, and it was direct.  A bit too much to pack into one day, but I certainly got the best out of the weather.

Of Lochs and Locks

(now with added photos)
Going on holiday in the dead of night is always exciting.  Riding through empty streets with a warm tail wind is even better.   15 degrees at 4am - nice.  It was all going perfectly to plan until I realised I'd forgotten my bike lock.
The train journeys were the biggest risk to my plan for today.  A long delay would be a big problem.  Luckily it was only a short delay: overhead cables down near Glasgow.  Could have been a lot worse - quite a few trains were cancelled.
Met Tim in Glasgow, who saved the day (twice) by bringing me a bike lock, and pointing out that the Oban train went from the *other* Glasgow station.  Now I'm older, I have an excuse.
Weather forecast for Oban: rain. Until I get there, then sunshine. Yippee.
The views from the train to Oban are spectacular. Generally. Views from high in the Arrochar Alps down to remote sea lochs (or perhaps Clyde lochs?) on the left, Loch Lomond to the right, and across to impressive mountains.  Today we got the weather I'm hoping to avoid at Oban: misty drizzle and not much visibility.   You could imagine the views, though, as we chugged lugubriously through woods carpeted with (English??) bluebells.  The young lady oppsite me had been to the shops in Glasgow. As far as I could see without being nosy, she had purchased four big boxes of Rice Krispies and four 4-packs of sausage rolls.  All set for a heavy night.
The stations are a delightful reminder of pre-Beeching times: deserted halts where you have to ask the guard in advance to stop the train, or 'bigger' stations like Crianlarich, which boasts a tempting Tea Room.
As we drew near to Oban, there was a glimpse of blue sky in the distance; ten minutes later, and the sun appeared.  And so, it begins.

Onward and Downward: South West Scotland

South west Scotland has a lot of coast

Another year, STILL cycling round the coast of Scotland.  I'll be setting off for Euston in the dead of night tonight, catching the first train to Oban, where I capitulated last year amidst midges and drizzle.  Heading south again: there is still rather a lot of Scotland left to visit, including the isles of Islay, Jura, Arran and Bute - it promises to be a fascinating journey.

This year I'm armed with a bag of cunning plans:  the first of these is to go in May instead of June or July.  Allegedly the climate is drier and less windy in May - on average.   And the first half of May was lovely - 20 degrees and sunny most days, while we shivered in London.  

The mainland and islands between Oban and Glasgow are sparsely populated, especially when it comes to places to stay, so it's been quite a puzzle to work out how to do a reasonable distance each day and still have somewhere to sleep.  I produced a masterpiece of a plan after exploring many options, most of which involved unreasonable distances in very hilly terrain.  The masterpiece includes arriving in Oban mid-afternoon tomorrow and cycling about 40 miles in the afternoon.  However, the two possible places to stay after 40 miles are both closed for renovation, so I will be cycling 60 miles instead.  Starting at 15.30.  Still, this is where the fun begins!  

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The road ahead

I was asked recently whether my route would take in the coast of Ireland.    Well, it's not a problem that will arise for quite a while, but it had occurred to me.   I mean, I'm not just doing Great Britain, the island... I have already been to Shetland, the Hebrides, etc... so what am I doing - the British Isles?  Well, I haven't decided yet.   But websites like this don't help: http://www.ireland.com/en-gb/wild-atlantic-way/