Cycling to the top, with stops for cake - Part 5

This is part five of the day by day account of our trip from Lands End to John O'Groats.

Day 18: June 30th
Glen Nevis to Inverness

Glen nevis to inverness. 111k. hot day. slow going on tow paths and forest tracks then climbed east side of loch ness to avoid main rds. didn't see nessie

Tow paths and forest tracks all morning. Slow going on gravel but away from the traffic on the A82. Looked back at Ben Nevis in bright blue sky – hot morning.

Lunch outside a service station among silly low blood sugar arguments then further snacks in Invergarry at the start of Loch Ness before heading to the more remote east side of the loch. Climbed up into the hills, long drags that went up through forestry, eventually reaching a sort of plateau with water supply lochs carved out of the landscape. It was hard work in the sun and with the knowledge of the distance up to Inverness still ahead of us, but we did get a fantastic view and spectacular descent which just went straight down like a ribbon with kinks in it.

We eventually turned off a side road to head back towards Loch Ness, passing signs for local falls further ahead. As we approached them, I ran down to visit, while Justin stayed by the bikes with the flies that were following us. He didn't miss much, as they were from hydro dams and little more than a trickle down the mountain side.

The next bit on the map looked downhill and flat as it followed the line of the loch, but in reality was a series of gradual hills which meant we couldn't cruise. We passed a single monster watcher snoozing with a tripod and camera set up next to him We had planned to stop before Inverness but I was in front and without the map, and missed the turn off, leading us into the town centre. We found the campsite easily enough, and while it was enclosed in a giant wire fence, the campers section was full of other cyclists. Must be at least 20 degrees here but texts from London say its hit 35 down there.

Met a German girl at the campsite, cycling around Scotland with her boyfriend. She said they didn't understand how we managed with so little stuff. We thought that the giant cycle route map of the UK we saw them holding up to the fence to plan their journey may have added to their load somewhat!

Day 19: July 1st
Inverness to Helmsdale

Inverness to helmsdale. 119k. most of day on main roads with firth to our right. spotted colony of seals. towns much bigger than i expected up here

Hot morning, even before we leave camp its warm – we're out at 8:30 only to stop in central Inverness for a coffee before leaving the town. I really like Inverness even though we've seen so little of it – don't know if its the friendly coffee shop staff, or the streams of postmen cycling off on their front heavy bright red bikes.

On main road (A9 mostly) for majority of day with some small detours. Towns out here are much bigger than I expected and everyone is out in the warm weather. We frequent a few bakeries to sample Scotch pies (pretty much gravy) and cold potato top pies (just like what we used to eat at school).

We catch Britain's smallest ferry from Cromaty to Nigg – only room for two cars and the deck spins around to let them drive off facing the right way. We have lunch in Tain – in a garden in front of a cemetery and a sign for the Tain experience which doesn't look very busy.

We cycle a loop of minor road around Dornoch to get off the main road for a bit and are treated to the sight of a colony of seals just outside a settlement called Skelbo. Tea and scones on a busy main road in Brora, then the last few miles to Helmsdale and loveliest hostel ever – gorgeous living space, light and clean. We have huge pub dinners followed by desert back in the communal kitchen before we feel fed enough.

There's a sign outside our hostel which says 55k to John O'Groats – not for us, we're going the long way around.

snack report: they sell potato topped mince pies up here which taste just like the ones we used to get at school canteen. an insight into nz food history?

Day 20: July 2nd
Helmsdale to Thurso

Helmsdale to thurso. 94k. baking hot day- thousands of butterflies in heather and deer. swum cautiously near 1st nuclear powerplant. stormy evening

Keep waking up in the night as it is really light in our room. Toast and cereal for breakfast, then out of the door and on bikes before 9. We take a minor road to Melvich - the wind is behind us and climbs are gradual so we move fast. There are lots of birds and butterflies and epic treeless landscapes, hardly any settlements.

We stop at a near empty RSPB visitor centre in an old railway station waiting rooms, following train tracks that we'll be coming back along in a few days. Warm day again – we're scheduled to stop at Melvich but we're there before 1pm so carry on towards the next major town, Thurso. Swim at Reay in sight of a decommissioned nuclear powerplant, then eat lunch on a grassy embankment overlooking the sea.

Thurso campground is run by an American who brought the place a few months ago and is doing it up, slowly it seems – the place is in a state of disrepair and wins the award for worst showers of trip!

We eat a proper fish and chip dinner which is scoffed quickly before a big storm hits and almost soaks through our tent in half an hour. As soon as the storm stops everyone in the campsite is out inspecting damage. We can see a house across the bay on fire. We watch fast moving clouds as the late evening sun comes back out.

Day 21: July 3rd
Thurso to Wick via John O'Groats

John o'groats! 32k - whole way in a gale of a headwind. job done... except the small matter of cycling back to wick this afternoon. photos first tho

Headwind all the way to John O'Groats which makes it hard going in a desolate landscape. Nothing to see, just the last few miles to tick off and optimistic B&Bs drying washing in the wind.

This end of the country is a bleak attraction without any of the money spinning fudge-making and clothing franchises of its Southern brother. Barely any visitors aside from two other cyclists completing the challenge in a makeshift cafe. We sign the book, order bacon and square sausage sandwiches and look at the deserted boarded up hotel outside. Even the official photographer at the direction sign looks bored. Relief from the dreariness comes outside where the other cyclists offer to take our photo and we stand holding our bikes in the wind comparing notes about our adventures.

On the way forward to Wick we pass two cyclists nearing the end, on racing bikes with no luggage and our headwind at their tail.
“Starting or finishing?” one yells at me over the wind, a video camera in one hand.
“Finishing!” I yell back.
“Good” he shouts back as he passes, still filming.

Its a long haul into Wick broken by views of some ruined four story houses, now run down, but made me wonder who they were built for up here. We're in Wick by 2pm and it reminds us of the stone houses and harbours we left in Thurso.

Our Harbour View Guesthouse has no view of the harbour and smells like stale smoke. Justin keeps on having to remind me that there wasn't anything else on offer when we booked the accommodation. We have the afternoon off though, and it feels unbelieveable what we have managed to do.

thurso to wick via john o'groats. 60k total. headwind and straight most of the way. the end is run down though met 2 other finishers. pints downed in wick!

Two weeks in Goa and Kerala

Trip Report: 22 February to 8 March 2009

From our first taxi ride, into Panjim from Goa airport, our eyes were assaulted by almost every icon of South India you could expect to see – gorgeous sari wearing women carrying loads on their heads, cows wandering down the middle of the road, erratic driving, a festival in full swing on the side of the road, palm trees, mangrove swamps, giant billboards, dust and heat.

It was hot – sweltering the first day, and we had come straight from the tail end of an English winter to the hottest day in Goa for a long time (40 C!). We sheltered in the Portuguese churches in old Goa and sat in the shade in old ruins.

A day later and a hop down the country by plane later, Fort Cochin wasn't much cooler, especially when we got lost in the Jewish quarter for a few hours in the heat of the day. Local markets across the water in Ernakulam were filled with everything you could ever dream of needing and I could have explored the narrow streets for much longer if it wasn't for the cooking class we had signed up for back on Fort Cochin that evening.

After consultation with Mr Walton who runs the immaculate Walton's Homestay (more of a boutique hotel with secondhand bookstore) we decided to head to Kumily by bus, where we had planned to do some walking in Periyar nature reserve. The bus ride is so slow that even rickshaws overtake us but even with mosquitoes biting my ankles consistently it is a beautiful way to slowly creep up the Western Ghats which are full of dark greens and the lighter jagged lines of the tea plantations.

Our preferred guided trek - the overnight Tiger Trail - was fully booked so we opt instead for two day walks. The border walk was with only three other tourists and three guides and I felt privileged to have experienced this beautiful area with such a small group. Shortly after we started walking the guides think there are elephants around and make us wait while they track them. While we wait the bird-life makes itself known. We don't see many animals (though elephant trunks ripping up vegetation! Gaur on the track we were meant to be walking on! Black monkeys!) but the walk itself is fantastic, and our lunch spot by a corner of the lake really special.

Day two at Periyar we take a bamboo raft tour of the lake with some walking added. Our guide is incredibly enthusiastic and takes us off the path whenever he thinks there might be something to see (usually not a lot!) Justin and I and another girl in the group swim in the lake after lunch.
Another hour on the bamboo rafts before the last bit of trekking back to the boat jetty but its in this time that we spot a herd of 20 or 30 Gaur and then finally when we should really head back we spot two elephants which we can only just see without binoculars. They're fantastic.

Fast bus out of the Ghats. The fact that you're reading this means that we made it in one piece, but a pretty hairy ride especially going down the mountains which we crawled up a few days ago. Crowded vehicle with a dozen nuns standing and at least 4 bums to each 2 person seat.

After 6 hours on a local ferry we ended up in hectic, noisy, traffic filled Alleppey, seeing nothing of the village described in our guidebook. The main business here is house boats and while they look amazing we can't see the appeal for us and instead take a canoe tour with a local guide for a few hours, stopping off for Thali at the same time as a boat full of merry Goans. We follow a road a couple of kms down to a beach in the afternoon where I eat deep fried chillies and we watch locals strolling in the late afternoon sun.

A few shorter bus rides today and we're back in Fort Cochin for another night with the Walton's and we finally make it to the Dutch Palace which has a disappointing museum before heading along the waterfront to spend some time observing the inefficient Chinese fishing nets (each scoop of the net catching maximum of one or two fish) and the slightly more efficient net and canoe based local fishing industry. The same evening we have one of our best meals of the trip at Dal Roti where we are told that we've over-ordered and we should have half of what we're looking at on the menu. They're right, and every mouthful is delicious and the place would be worth another meal if only we had time.

We spend a rare lazy morning in coffee shops and looking in shops before we're on an overnight train back up to Goa where we are sharing a carriage with a grandmother who feeds us snacks like we are her kin, sorts out lunch for us and and answers all of our questions about what we've seen so far and tells us about herself. She's got a real sparkle and is fantastic even if overly concerned that we get off at the right stop so is up every time we get up between 4 and 5:30 when our train finally pulls into a station close to Agonda Beach.

We get to the beach when its still dark and its just us, some cows with sharp horns and a pack of beach dogs until sunrise ...and the beach dogs really want to be our friends.

Justin found us a beach hut at Agonda Paradise, beside a quiet restaurant with an uninterrupted view of the sea. The sea was a welcome respite from the heat and with the beach being somewhat of a yoga retreat, there's cereal for breakfast and a French bakery of sorts, plus fresh fish for dinner at a plethora of beach front restaurants. We even find bicycles to hire for a day. It was a great base for a few days but I couldn't have done it for two weeks - though if Justin could have six swims in the sea every day I think he would relocate. Final trip by tiny minivan was to the airport in the early hours of the morning. We pass a lady riding a bicycle before dawn without lights, people walking to church on the side of the road in their Sunday best, and places of worship so full or hot or both that chairs are laid outside in the courtyard. Later we pass the only real slums I saw in the trip. Another world, again. The airport for our return flight is crowded with package holiday tourists. I feel the urge to tell them what they've missed out on.

We managed to cover a lot of ground, moving through environments which swung abruptly between mayhem and tranquility. I think that for me that was the beauty of India.


Want more? Justin has photos, maps and other tales here.