The 9000 km photo

This is the 9000 km photo, taken on a bank holiday Saturday just outside Swanage where we're based for a few days camping at the tail end of Summer. We're late out of London because of mechanical failures and end up on a slow train down to Poole, so despite an early start its late afternoon when we cycle into Swanage in search of lunch and supplies and I forgot that I was about to clock another 1000k.

So not truly a 1000k photo, but a safe margin over, heading up to Tom's Field Campsite. Cat and Graham are just coming into frame.

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!

Cycling to the top, with stops for cake - Part 4

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

Day 13: June 25th
Threlkeld to Powfoot (just past Annan)

threlkeld to annan. 82k. waved beautiful lake district goodbye, snuck up on sleeping ponies then sailed into scotland on tailwind. sky is huge here

Shrugged off the last of Lake District hills. Counted number of new midge bites and waved goodbye to the lake district this morning. Crossed fords and went through farm gates which form part of the C2C route.

Passed sleeping ponies, and later fed ponies roaming freely in commons before Hesket Newmarket, where we stopped for morning tea and chatted to a man who was drinking coffee and had a young daughter in tow.

Quick ride into Carlisle and a 1pm lunch. Warm, even sunny in Carlisle – a first for us in three visits and makes the town seem much friendlier. New cycle route had opened up headig North and before long we had popped up in Scotland.

Flat cycling on rough roads along the Solway coast. Amazing wide sky seems to dwarf the land, and the sea stretches out forever until it hits the other side where we ended our first multi-day cycle tour at Boustead Hill a few years ago. We wave to our former selves – having come a long way from having one pannier each and staying in BnBs across the width of the country.

One of the cheapest campsites yet is just past a golf course, on the outskirts of Annan. Its a quiet site with only one other tent pitch (some older European cyclists) alongside us looking out onto an empty football pitch with a row of static caravans fading into the distant. There's also an enclosed hut for cooking and dishes which must indicate that the wind is a permanent fixture. The bathrooms pipe the local radio station and woman's have couches and plants. Very posh and only £10 for the night. They even recharge my cellphone battery for free.

The mudflats left by the receding tide look appealing but we satisfy ourselves by hanging out in the shelter of our tent watching the clouds move swiftly over the sky.

Snack patrol: well fed on lake district specialties these last few days though still not sure i like kendal mint cake. ambleside cafes are topnotch

Day 14: June 26th - 141 k
Annan to Farmers Field near Coylton Arms

Annan to coylton. 140k. flat roads didn't feel like scotland until pm hills. yha shut so cycled on. gave up at 9pm-camping in a farmers field lots of midges

Long straight flat roads for the first few hours of the day so we flew into Dumfries where we had decided to try and sort beds in a SYHA which was further up the road. Didn't really feel like Scotland proper yet – too flat – the Solway still too prominent. Justin got a number from Dumfries Tourist Information for the SYHA and found out the hostel we were looking to stay in was only available for group bookings, the start of a series of misfortunes on today's accommodation front.

Stopped in a a southern Scotland village for lunch at a real oddity - an organic teahouse which specialised in the variety of soups they offered. We weren't the usual clientele, those would be ladies discussing other teahouses in Scotland and admiring artwork from local artists while I was impatiently waiting to get served in my grubby cycling kit. According to a clipping on the wall this may have been the best teahouse in Scotland. Meanwhile, whilst waiting I seriously wondered if we should give up on the idea, but when our food came out - warm soup and toasted sandwiches – it was just the fuel that we needed. Whole town had a wierdly hippie vibe we couldn't quite put our fingers on, quite unlike anything else we were to pass today.

Back in Dumfries the Information ladies had told Justin that there wasn't a lot of accommodation in the area we were heading. We had marked a few places to try – first village we got to about 3pm and while there was a sign for a B&B there wasn't sign of much else to entertain us, so we continued on. We tried the next town, which had a significant number of rowdy youth on the main street, waiting for buses to take them elsewhere, it seemed. Justin heard someone say something about nicking our bikes and the two hotels which did accommodation didn't look like they'd do the kind of accommodation where we might want to stay.

Our cycle guide marked a campsite at another town up the road, but it wasn't on our OS map – found a burnt out wreck on the edge of a depression hit township. Two pubs which would have been likely candidates for a bed for the night on the outskirts seemed to mock our intentions, one was boarded up and the other had been burnt to the ground. We passed another two towns the same as this – sitting menancingly on hills with their identikit houses and one or two empty workers pubs. Justin spent a lot of time in said pubs asking about accommodation, mostly with no luck.

We went quite a lot further than we had planned for today and ended up doing tired circles trying to find a full campsite and then retracing steps to a full B&B until at 9pm we gave up and found a farmer to ask if we could stay in his field. The night that followed was full of midges, thousands of the buggers, falling on the tent like a rainstorm.

We had no dinner save for a few banana sandwiches and we were dog tired – we collapsed and hoped that we had killed most of them. We had been too tired to enjoy the evenings ride – 9pm is definitely too late to make camp!

Day 15: June 27th
Coylton to Blackwaterfoot

coylton farmers field to blackwaterfoot bnb on isle of arran. 71k. scrubby coastal ride then leisurely pm over arran hills. quite a contrast these 2 days

Early start (well you would as well if you could still hear a thick hailstorm of midges against your tent). Breakfast in a school yard, then second breakfast just outside Dondonald at Cafe Rosella – well deserved fry up. Our friendly waitress tells us about her phobias – water, cows, planes – but how she would really like to visit New Zealand to see the coloured water. It takes me a while to comprehend that she's talking about Rotorua.

We hit a coastal cycle path which takes us up to Ardrossan – the tarmac winds all over the place and is really scrubby, not as scenic as we had assumed. Its low tide everywhere but a warm day so would have been good for a swim in the natural tidal pools dotted up the coast.

We take the ferry to Arran and the on board tourism information lady sorts us a B&B in Blackwaterfoot within seconds of our enquiry. She also gives us some advice about midges – apparently we shouldn't camp near trees or water – last night we were directed to the spot by the trees and stream – thanks Mr Farmer man!

We have first lunch just off the ferry in Broddick and then took supplies from the bakery for a second lunch en-route. We took it slowly over the huge hill across the middle of the island before reaching our B&B for the night and visited the Kintyre Hotel (only pub in town, but a very posh one this time) for dinner and dessert with views across to the mainland. Nice way to blow the daily budget and a deep sleep in beds after an easy days cycling.

snack patrol: made up for lack of calories yesterday with diner fryup at cafe rosella just outside dundonald. perfect second breakfast for the unwashed

Day 16: June 28th
Blackwaterfoot to Kilmelford

Arran to kilmelford. 110k. back in scotland proper with overcast skies. flatter than expected. lots of lochs. last nights camp behind a pub - few less midges

Big breakfast provided by our B&B lady Pat. Quite a treat to be well looked after and to not have to pull down a tent! Its a fairly flat, fast road to the north ferry at Adrossan and misty before we catch it. We check out the local castle and eat leftover hot cross buns from yesterday.

Its a low sky day (said Justin, who wanted me to add that), and chilly. We need jackets and polyprop for the crossing which has just four cars and a bunch of other cyclists on it – four very serious lycra clad blokes and two older European cyclists with matching jackets and shoes.

Aside from first big hill, the afternoon's riding is fairly flat, alongside lochs on fairly busy roads. We stop for lunch at the harbour in charming Tarbert where Justin gets chatting to a man and his two children while I pick up supplies at the coop. They wave when they pass us later heading north of the town.

A fast afternoon's cycling but campsites we had marked are no-existent so we end the evening (at a sensible time at least!) outside a pub in Kilmelford where they've kindly agreed to let us pitch for a £10er. Alas there are still midges here, as the Hungarian barmaid warns us but at least we get a comfortable few beers in before calling it a night.

Day 17: June 29th
Kilmelford to Glen Nevis

To the foot of ben nevis. 101k. hillier and busy roads all day. warm afternoon so loch dip after lunch - freezing water, madness! best campsite view yet

Hills caught up with us today. My legs were sore and I struggled until Oban. Weird mix of organic / fairtrade shops and discount / outlet retailers in the town. Good coffee though. Justin tired after morning tea and demanded an early lunch. First place we came to had a view over a loch and overpriced sandwiches but a good respite from the heat.

Swum after lunch in a loch in freezing water near an old couple sitting in deck chairs throwing stones into the water for their dog. They must have though we were mad. It was a very quick swim. Had afternoon tea at a picnic spot just out of Fort William with a good view then hi-tailed it on busy main road (only option unfortunately) to Fort William then to tonight's camp in Glen Nevis.

Its the most stunning campsite we've stayed at yet – the mountain looms in front of our tent in the afternoon sun. We consumed a huge amount of food tonight – a kinda fresh mexican salad / mountain of food and some local beers. Its nice to have showers and shops on site again. We get beer and icecream for dessert and sit on a picnic bench absorbing the view. Wish we could have stayed another night and climbed to the top of Ben Nevis.

Cycling to the top, with stops for cake - Part 3

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

Day 9: June 21st

Bishops Castle to Chester

Bishops castle to chester - 114k. climbed down from hilltop camp then steep climb into shropshire hills then grey sky and flat roads! tiny campsite tonight

We're at a tiny campsite at the back of a farm south of Chester. There are three other cyclists here, a father and adult son who have camped under the trees and are finishing a round of beers and a young lad who is dropped off by his family who also has a Thorn. All three have cycle covers which makes me feel a little less ridiculous about lugging our half broken piece of plastic around.

The campsite is really tiny and gorgeous – there are cows sitting just across a simple wire fence, a family with young children in an antique caravan and a little brick facilities block with just one shower and toilet for each gender.

Today we left the expansive Foxhole Castle Campsite, a huge site on a hill with gorgeous views - then climbed another hill, the very steep Stiperstones. Another wild and moody hilltop with wild sheep, but this time hampered by the threat of rain which also obscured the view. Whe the rain became a bit more serious we were further down the ridge. It seemed like a good time to stop for tea and cake and we were warmly welcomed into the Bog Visitor's Centre. The centre sits in an old school house and was run by two volunteers who had a whole kitchen filled with cakes.

A fast afternoon on flat farm roads. Lunch in Ellesmere where there is a food festival divided between opposite ends of the town. We settle outside the Co-op and are joined by a solo cyclists who is doing Lands End in a few less days than us. She's doing it fast and on major roads, she says because the Pyrenees defeated her and she still had some holiday time left. We're impressed.

Three cyclists and all of our stuff attracted a reasonable amount of head-turning and three small children stop to look over our bikes. I tell them that the one they're looking at is mine, and the other black one is my boyfriend's and the most inquisitive one relays the information to the rest of the group. She is determined to unravel what we're doing. “Where are you going?” “North of here – to Chester.” I say. “And then you're going home?” “No, we're going to camp.” “And then you're going home?” “and then we're going further north, to Scotland.” “And then you're going home?” “...in a few days....”

The other question the girls have is slightly less predictable. They spot an old toothbrush through a clear bag on the back of my bike. “Why have you got a toothbrush there?” they point. “Its for cleaning my bike.” They are goaded away gently by parents and I hear the same child saying to the others: “She uses her toothbrush for cleaning her bike,” with a certain amount of awe in her voice.

We find our campsite after a few false turns. I see a guy walking two llamas down the road of this tiny village while Justin is inside asking for directions, and then spot a family we saw cycling the other way half an hour ago. I get directions from the family and we roll into our campsite at 6pm, making a proper stirfry for dinner. Yum!

snack patrol: another day another selection of homemade cakes sold by nice volunteer ladies. today ginger cake and coffee at the bog visitor centre - nice!

Day 10: Jun 22nd
Chester to Ormskirk

Chester to ormskirk: 100k. wildly underestimated todays distance so off mersey ferry and into after school rush hour! warm evening for cycling at least

We misjudged today's distance by at least 40k and due to difficulty of navigating across the wirral we only caught the ferry across the Mersey to Liverpool at 3.30. The morning's cycling was a jumble of industry and forest tracks until the waterfront with windmills in the distance and gorgeous views across the water. Justin and I take turns to be in foul moods – we weren't going to get to Liverpool in time to catch up with some of my old workmates and I took offense to something Justin said early on which coloured the day a bit grimly.

Before the ferry we went off-route to find a bike shop to fix a squeak in my chain and so I could try on helmets. Bike show was on the edge of a big dock area in Birkenhead. Nice shop, not sure I'd recommend hanging out in the surrounding streets.

We had to wait 40 minutes at the ferry terminal before we could go across and then the short distance took a frustratingly long time – great if you want a view of this magnificent city – not so great if its almost 4pm and you're about to hit Liverpool rush hour.
The weather brightened in Liverpool, and apart from Justin scraping his hands when falling off a canal path (second fall of the day for him – served us right for arguing) we made it through the grimy northern suburbs without too many scars.

It was a beautiful early evening for riding once we got back into open countryside but we took a wrong turn somewhere and ended up in Ormskirk rather than the detour that we thought we would take past the town. We stopped to stock up on food and realised that we wouldn't make our scheduled campsite.

We cycled to a nearby park intending to eat dinner in the last of the sunlight, but just as I was pulling out burgers Justin walked over to a family to asked for directions. The father brought one of his children over, just at the point that we were keen to be done cycling for the day and weren't really up for conversation.

While I rudely scoffed my hamburger, Justin held up our end of the conversation and the man explained he wasn't really a local but had moved to the area because his brother had a church nearby a few years ago. He did tell us that he thought there was a caravan park just outside town and gave us accurate directions to it, but he wasn't sure if it would accept campers so we were keen to move on.

After reaching Abbey Road campsite and establishing that there was a camp field and settled in just after 8:30pm.

I was slightly suspicious when I came out of the shower block and spotted the man and his brood of children walking towards me in the late evening light. He said hello and went on to explain that someone had asked the wife (carrying the smallest child) if there was a campsite nearby just yesterday, and they had come to investigate. Odd, but harmless enough. I wished them well but didn't invite them over to our tent. Our day had been long enough.

Day 11: Jun 23rd
Ormskirk to Hawkshead

Ormskirk to hawkshead. 140k and 8hrs! cycling through the friendly north. small boy said hello as cycled past and asked are you exercising? sunshine hurrah!

139k.
Another long day – longest yet, Cycled out of Abbey Farm Caravan Park at 9.45 and had flat country roads for most of the morning, skipping across the M6 (first motorway in the world!) several times.

Morning tea at a proper northern greasy spoon in Leyland where we also posted a couple of maps home. Lunch was grabbed at a supermarket of a farmers shop – like a rural delicatessen – and eaten in a spot by a stream where a bunch of kids and their teacher were hanging out, some even swimming. Justin had spent the morning speeding off and was a bit disgruntled about being told off for going too fast all the time but I was insistent that we should pause, especially in the middle of a hot day when it seemed that everyone else was. Plus the ham was fantastic.

Leaving Preston later in the afternoon, I'm a fair bit behind Justin on a fairly busy road when a small child of about 4 yells over to me from a park which overlooks the street I'm cycling on. “Hello! Are you exercising?” he asked. “Yes, I'm exercising,” I grinned back at him. Later still we ride along the canals out of Lancaster, a wicked way to get north of the city and big stretches of the sea to our left again.

Its getting late as we approach the lake district, 6pm or so but roads are fantastically quiet and the light was pretty special and as we debated how far we should go (alway... “shall we keep on going?” “Yeah, we might as well...”) the hassles of the morning starting to fade away.
We had no idea when the last ferry across to Hawkshead would be and were riding against the clock winding up and down some impressive hills when Justin suggested that we cut across to a more main road which clearly be flatter sitting in the valley we could see below us... although it definitely wasn't and two steep hills almost defeated me.

Fantastic light for riding, views for miles and we made it onto the ferry just after 8pm, and even better we were never asked to pay for the journey (thanks ferry men).

The hill up to Hawkshead isn't as steep as I remember but its a long way to the village. We pull into the first campsite we see in Hawkshead just before 9pm. Its still really light and there are birds everywhere. An eccentric cyclist fixing his bike talks to anyone who will hear him out and himself when no-one else will. He rides away in a tailors shirt and trousers in the morning. Birds everywhere, bird song and ducks wandering around. It doesn't stop all night.
We nip down to a Hawkshead pub after dinner and have last drinks with the locals.

Can't believe we saw so much in one day.

Snack patrol: found a truckers diner in leyland yesterday. served proper mugs of instant coffee and spoke a dialect i couldn't grasp. very cool

Day 12: Jun 24th
Hawkshead to Threlkeld, 42k to camp then 14k unloaded to Keswick for supplies.


Still in the lake district: 40k. meant to be a rest day but headed north looking for a nicer campground. now a few steep hills east of keswick

Today was meant to be a rest day but we decided to make some headway into the lake district hills as it was a beautify and sunny day. Leisurely start to the day with bacon and mushrooms on bread followed by cereal for breakfast.

Meandered up to Ambleside to go to a shop for a promised birthday present. but alas, they were sold out so no yellow inflatable camping pillow for me. Coffee and cake in a cafe by an old watermill we had been to on our last trip to the district. Ginger shortbread from Grasmere – then a slow climb up hills around Thirlmere lake (I hoped we could swim but turns out its a large and precious spring water reservoir).

Camp was on a sheep farm just one big hill out of Keswick. We went down to the township for groceries and got quite lost on the way out, ending up on a busy duel carriageway for a bit, before returning to big horrid hill which most cyclists were walking up. Lazy late afternoon at our campsite, surrounded by hills which turned amber in the dusk.

Laundry done, and BBQ dinner though this was somewhat spoiled by midges which attacked us as soon as the sun faded.