Waking up on the side of the road

We did manage to sleep a little and morning came early, if not terribly bright. We experienced a new kind of Scottish rain, a heavy drizzle that completely soaks you in a matter of minutes. Joshua made tea and we had a passable breakfast of oatcakes and cheese.











As we made our way back down the coast we did see the "campsite" from the night before. No tent space at all, no tents to be seen, we're guessing no showers either. We boo'd them as we passed.

Just after the path crossed through Stevenson, it entered a really lovely park and the path improved significantly. We spent the morning making pretty good time towards Paisley and Glasgow, unsure of where we would stay that night. Sections of the path went through parks, other sections were on very small roads, and some of the nicest stretches were in a fairly narrow and very green canal of some kind.











It stayed wet, we saw some sights.























We stopped to fix a flat and eat lunch by a bridge. Ramona did some emergency wheel truing for my rear wheel, which was making some ominous noises.




























I have wet feet.











Then we are back on the road.










And in Paisley, or just past the town, we decided we were ready to find a spot to camp. We ended up at the edge of a field, behind a fallen tree. More "wild" camping. We got in bed early, as we were pretty exhausted, and heard families and dog walkers passing on the path.




















An improvement, but still not ideal. Here's a shot from the following morning, our tent had been just behind that branch.









And it was sunny!











What a difference good weather can make. As we approached Glasgow we managed to get super lost. Missed some sign somewhere when we passed through a lovely estate and ended up about an hour off-course.











But we got to see some interesting riverside paths. The utility poles that are actually inside the bike lane made me think of the Compton Creek bike path and one of my favorite people, Alex Kenefick. This photo is for you Alex.











We finally stopped at a cafe and had bagels and tea. Not sure what to do next, we asked someone how to find the River Clyde. We needed to cross the Clyde and find a connector cycleway along the River Kelvin, which would then take us to the Forth and Clyde canal. I can't remember which one of us realized that we were sitting directly across the street from a library. That was fruitful. The ladies behind the counter let us use the internet, and we figured out where we had gone wrong and decided to backtrack.

Eventually we found our route signs again and the bridge over the Clyde. We got confused again looking for the Kelvin Connector because it's not marked as such. But we guessed correctly that it was the route towards the university, followed the waterway, and ended up on a lovely path along the Kelvin.

Navigating turns out to be difficult in Glasgow.









Perfect time for a break at a riverside cafe.


























From the Kelvin it was easy to find the Forth and Clyde canal, as it was well marked. But once on the canal we almost ended up going the wrong way for a third time that day. The canal splits, and the route east goes under the canals after an illogical right turn. And the signs say the near towns, but not Edinburgh, which is pretty much all we knew to head towards.

As we cruised along, a Dutch gentleman, sitting upright on his bike with a couple of Ortliebs on the back and a map on his handlebars came towards us from the opposite direction, flagged us down, and asked where we were heading. We figured out that we were all trying to get to Edinburgh, but that he'd just come from downtown Glasgow somehow and he was quite frustrated. The three of us headed back to the fork, and sure enough there was the sign and the little tunnel under to get us on the right part of the canal.










Arie. Who saved us from going the wrong way and getting frustrated. We rode with him for a bit, and then he said he'd go a little slower and we charged on. But he wasn't that much slower, because when we stopped for a drink a little later that afternoon he was not far behind. We bought him a beer and we had a really nice conversation about choices of more social leaning vs. more business friendly leaning governments. Arie headed back on the road before us, and we didn't see him for the rest of the day. However we knew he would be stopping soon at a B&B, while we rode for at least another couple of hours.

As we got tired we decided to camp right by the path along the canal. Again, not so stealth wild camping. But there was a picnic table and a fairly level spot to put the tent.










This was breakfast.







We saw these swan fledgelings soon after starting out.












- rolling post

Arrival in Ardrossan

As the ferry arrived in Ardrossan, it started to pour - a brief drenching rain from one of the uncountable squalls coming off the Atlantic. The ride to the campsite was 2 or 3 kilometers. We had seen it online before we left and it looked like the bike path passed right by. there was very nice bicycle path along the coast through town. the tide was way out revealing long sandy beaches and ancient looking jetties, moles, and some bizarre stone sea/land structures with no discernible purpose. outside of town, we started to follow the rail line and the bike path turned to complete shit. we started to see police on foot, in cars, and (a first in the uk) a police helicopter. the rain stopped and a late evening sun poked through the clouds.

The bike path was now between the sea and a heavily fenced train track. Never expect things to be simple. When we started seeing caravans and RVs they were on the other side of the tracks. At least we had located a campsite. It was nearing 9pm. Still quite light out, but time to set up the tent.

There was one crossing to the "campsite". A staircase and pedestrian way over the tracks. We decided to press on in hopes of another option. The break came as we entered town and a street brought us across. We tried tobacktrack butfound ourselves in an empty golf course. Back into "town".

I tried to flag down a police officer, but got only a stony look that made me laugh - the look was meant to be a fuck off, but I had seen one too many of those from LA's finest to be sussed. we split up, trying to penetrate the campsite via rubbish filled alleys and unpromising side streets. I finally found someone to ask for directions. a mildly retarded gentleman and his minders told us to head back to the abandonned golf course, skirt the edge on the dirt road, and look for a whole in the fence. they also told us that there was a madman with a gun on the loose which explained the police helicopter.

The info we got sent us back through the golf course. Sure enough, after mud puddles and a ride down a grassy slope we had arrived.

it was promising, in a European caravan campsite kind of way. lots of permanent and semi-permanent caravans along side mobile RVs with grassy areas all around. a central registration building with what looked like a bar, restaurant, and game room inside. I stepped inside and Ramona stayed with the bicycles. chaos. humid smelly chaos inside, with cheeky youths playing arcade games, hooligans drinking beers and swearing, and older over weight patrons staring at a television in the bar or glued to gambling machines. it was packed. at the bar I inquired about camping and after being directed to a young lady who promptly ditched me, i headed back outside. there two security guards converged on Ramona and I to inform us that all the pitches had been taken.

I tried to explain that all we needed was a little bit of grass, which we saw around us. But no, that would not be possible. We asked about other campsites and they said we should head north of Ardrossan to a place along the beach where lots of people were always camped. "For free!" Boy did that sound bad. But with little choice we headed back out. They directed us to go via the road, and we found the nice beachside path again. About half an hour later we were out of town at a picnic area just outside of town, having passed the ferry terminal and gone over 5 miles in the wrong direction, with little choice. Camping near a road? I guess so.

We set up quickly, tucked all our gear under the tent fly, and locked the bikes lying down, between the tent and the beach. I was not looking forward to sleeping. this was a pull off for a busy road. Ramona did not believe it, but i swear that a man with a prostitute pulled in right after us and parked at the far end of the area. I slept with one eye open and was jolted into full wakefulness several times by car headlights settling on the tent. at one point two very drunk men got out of their car and started arguing unintelligibly while banging on something (their car, the trash can?) over and over again. your pissed Scotsman or englishman is still an unknown quantity for me. often there is the smell of dangerous, mindless, violence barely contained about them. after about 30 minutes they left and the rest of the night passed quietly.



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

To Arran / On the Road Again

The Isle of Arran has been tempting us for two months. So even though it took us way out of the way, and probably added two days to our journey, we decided to cycle a part of it on our way east. We rode the now very familiar route over to Portavadie, stopping to say goodbye to Sophie at The Barn at Millcroft. Then the ferry which we had now traveled on a number of times, and the ride from Tarbert to Kennacraig, where we'd taken the ferry to Islay. Twice.

No round trip tickets for us anymore.



After Kennacraig we didn't know what to expect, which is part of what is fun and exciting about touring. Sure, it was five miles to another ferry. But what kind of hill(s)? We don't exactly use survey maps. And we didn't have a map at all, in fact.

And those five miles turned out to be a little tough. The Scottish roads don't wind slowly up hills - they go straight up. Then again, they often go straight down, too, and we rolled up to the Cloanaig ferry with a few minutes to spare.

On Arran, the town of Lochranza has both a castle and a distillery.






























Joshua visited the prison. A dark space in a now ceiling-less castle.













And there are many deer. This one we had to slow down for as it was hanging out in the road.














The detour to Arran was well worth it. The island is just beautiful, the distillery makes a selection of very lovely, slightly briny Scotches. Our favorite was the one aged in a Sauterne cask. Yummmm. Also, the Robert Burns.

Then to some more climbing.













Perhaps you can see the line of the road in the distance? This was a slow meandering climb. With vast, green vistas. Complimented by a long descent on the other side.


























We went off that way...














And the rest of the way was along the east coast of Arran, mostly green and lush with some small towns. This is looking back towards the mainland, where we can almost make out Tighnabruaich again.

In Broddick we had a meal, and possibly one of the best meals we had in Scotland, at A Plate of Arran. Joshua had the kid curry and I had an amazing pumpkin risotto with a poached egg on top. Dessert was a chocolate something gooey with pistachios and a scoop of pistachio ice cream. Wow. Truly fine dining. Oh, and fine drinking, too.


























For our third ferry of the day, we joined the many drunken hooligans on their way back to Ardrossan. A sign of things to come, unfortunately.

- rolling post

Days Before Departure

Coming back from the Spar on Tuesday afternoon, we saw a car pull out of a parking space in front of the shop. The driver had left a large black dry bag leaning on the rear bumper of the car. We shouted a bit (not too loudly because Tighnabruaich was relatively crowded with sedate tourists milling about and we did not want to make a scene) and waved our arms to get his attention to no avail. We fetched the bag from the street and found that it was filled with beer. Whoops. He was heading toward the boatyard, meaning that he was probably on a sailboat. The road to the boatyard has no exit so we decided to leave the bag on the sidewalk in front of the Spar and walk back to Rockbank, keeping an eye out for him. If we did not see him, we would hop on our bicycles and catch him at the boatyard. I brought the groceries upstairs and Ramona waited at the street to watch for the man to return. Seeing that he did not, we grabbed our bikes and headed to the boatyard, a 5 minute bike ride. Upon arriving, I saw our man in a dingy rowing to his boat. I hurried down the boat landing and hollered in my loudest shepherd voice, "You forgot your dry bag at the spar!". He reluctantly turned around and rowed the 300 yards back to the landing. He had not understood what I had said and he looked exceedingly annoyed that some bloke was yelling at him across the water. When he was within civil speaking distance I repeated myself and his scowl melted to a grin of supreme gratitude. His name was Rory. He wanted to buy us a beer. We'd saved his ballast! He hurried to his car and back to the Spar. We declined his offer of a beer satisfied that we had done a good deed - always wise before the start of a trip.

Wednesday was another day of waiting for Apple to approve the BikeCount app. Thomas and I had sent our latest appeal to their request for more details about why the app required location services. So with nothing left to do but goof off, Ramona and I decided to go to the Kames Hotel for lunch. We arrived there around 13:00 and ordered beer and nachos. We had a nice chat about Sail 2011 with this year's Greenock liason to the Norwegian tall ship Christian Radich. Then another beer and a talk with Wilma (a candidate to replace Ramona at Wellpark) and her friend Lee. And another beer and who should walk in, but our new best mate Rory and his two crew members. What followed was many many beers and single malts. They would buy a round and we would return the favor. Sometime around 16:00 I received a confirmation from Apple that BikeCount was approved, which was cause enough for a celebration. More beer and single malts. On and on until around 18:00. The crew of the Catalinia and we stumbled out of the Kames completely pissed. Them to their dingy and out the boat and us to our bicycles for the blessedly short ride home. We watched them drift away from shore for many minutes as they struggled to start the engine of the dingy, all of us laughing. We made it home and watched from the window as they motored their sailboat back to their mooring up the Kyle at the Tighnabruaich boatyard. After which I passed out until 2:00 when I woke up drunk and the beginnings of a fantastic hangover. All in all a thoroughly enjoyable afternoon.

On Thursday we said our goodbyes, finished our packing, and nursed our hangovers. All that was left to do was to walk our three boxes of non-tour essential possessions to the post-office and mail them ahead to Switzerland. Friday morning was rainy and, more to the point, windy. It was a force 6 or 7 gale and the Kyle was choppy. After a lot of back and forth about whether to brave the elements or spend a quiet day indoors we opted for the later. My feeling was that we would find wind and rain enough on our bike east across Scotland to counter any claims that we were fair weather cyclists.














Saturday was breezy, but in the right direction. It was drizzling, but not raining. So we were off. We were at the post-office at 9:00 to mail the packages. Each box weighed something like 6 kg and for the two without the computer the cost was about 100US$ to ship. The box with the computer cost something like 300$US to send because we wanted extra insurance which was only available through expedited service. Oh well. We hope it will arrive. Then we are off!

So What's Next?

We're going on the road again. Oh. Yeah.

As soon as Joshua's app gets approval from the iTunes store, we will pack the 'puter in a box, ship some stuff to Switzerland, load up, and ride out. It's been really fun to spend some time here. Being in one place allows for making of friends, learning of lingo, and exploring. It feels like we've learned the moods of the view.

Now we're thinking we'll do this:


View Tighnabruaich to Edinburgh to Newcastle by bike in a larger map


Not sure which way around after Edinburgh. Not sure if we'll make it to Arran, depending on what day we leave here. Could be we go there for a day trip if we're still waiting. Maybe tomorrow? Who knows? But once we get the email, it'll be us leaving within 24-48hrs. We are that ready.

At Newcastle we get to visit Budge. He might even come meet up with us and ride for a day or two as we approach Newcastle. And then the ferry to Amsterdam, probably on the 20th or 21st of June. Yes, Amsterdam. To see Paul & Marieke. And Amsterdam.

We're looking forward to seeing Den Haag for the first time, and visiting the folks who are Travelling Two, one of our favorite bicycle touring websites. Route will be along the North Sea Route, something like this:


View Amsterdam to... in a larger map


Although maybe we'll continue into France instead of Luxembourg to Germany. No decisions yet, just a rough idea. Maybe with some advice and ideas we'll change paths a few times. Eventually to Zurich, again. And Greece. Back to Zurich. Into Italy...

Riding around the Point

When we first arrived in Tighnabruaich we went for a little ride, to see how far the road went down the Cowal Peninsula. We found it went in a loop, and we did that. Very nice. We saw lots of lambs who were freshly hatched from easter eggs, and many, many daffodils.

Two months later the lambs are running around, some fields now host cows instead of sheep, and a farmer moves a flock of sheep.

As we approached a curve in the road, we saw that three sheep had been left behind. A mama and her twins. Well, one twin had a bad leg. When we got close, they all got up and started down the road again. Gimpy was clearly struggling. It hopped along for a little bit, and then went to the grass at the edge of the road to rest. I stayed there, while Joshua went ahead to see if he could see the farmer. The road is small and there aren't exactly any junctions. Clearly, a flock of sheep had recently been moving in the same direction as us (sheep poop everywhere). So Joshua came back, grabbed the lamb, and rode it down the road.

This is the pasture they were headed for

Good day for a ride! At least on our peninsula. Above you can see the Isle of Arran getting pummeled by rain. It may look like a smoking volcano, but it's just catching clouds with it's high peaks. Whoops.

This kinda sums up our time here. Sheep, sailboats, lots of water, crazy clouds and unpredictable weather. Rock, gannets circling and diving, green green pastures. We like it here.

We had seen this beach from above before, so we decided to check it out. It is a local destination of some fame. I am learning to better use the camera.

No cars are allowed on the road out to the beach, and it's a bit of a walk. So we did a little 'froadin. I left the camera dangling from my handlebars and on, so I could take photos at a moments notice. Of the road.

And it took a bunch of photos all by itself. Below is one of the better ones.

The road went paved again, which was nice, and then we turned onto a muddy path that petered out into a field.

A bog? A fen? Anyway, we took it very slowly and didn't crash into any mud.

Zee beach! Made it. Someone had a huge kite. A group was doing team building exercises. Otherwise this vast expanse was fairly empty. Clams. Shells. Lots of sand squirts from razor clams.

Joshua got a new handlebar bag

As we were leaving, I noticed a bit of trash and stopped to pick it up. Apparently tobacco companies here don't completely own governmental representatives.

no sh*t!?

This kind of warning doesn't actually affect smokers, I'm told. Too abstract.

What a lovely day out. While we were gone, it had hailed in Tighnabruaich. Four seasons in a day - sometimes in a couple of hours. That's the west coast of Scotland.