Author: Rob Ainsley

Another very early start, hacking out into the Lancashire road system at a drizzly half seven. But with a big tailwind, firmly track-pumped tyres, and all my camping gear left at Si and Sue’s for shipment home and hence half-weight luggage, it felt like the bike was pedalling itself. Maybe I just hadn’t woken up…

Three big, big climbs over the roof of England today, from Dales Yorkshire into Lancashire: up and out from Dent; up from High Bentham to Slaidburn; and up Jeffrey Hill. The effort was worthwhile (a) because of the long, life-affirming downhills and (b) because of the splendid evening at Si and Sue’s of curry, vodka,…

A very early start indeed today, up and off by 5am. Perhaps it was my subconscious ensuring I got out of Scotland and into England as soon as possible. Well, that Scottish beer was a bit rubbish. Met up with my friends Simon and Sue at Carlisle, who are joining me for a couple of…

The campsite I found last night, by chance, is a real gem. It’s in an old Georgian walled garden in the middle of a wooded valley. Perhaps this explains the strange smell in my tent when I took my shoes off last night. I must have been camped over an old compost heap. With tailwinds,…

An early start, zigzagging down a remarkable and little-known road in Rothesay from the campsite to the ferry. Serpentine Road has nine hairpin bends and must be Britain’s most corkscrewy street. The landlord of the pub the previous night where we watched the football lives on it. We hope he got home OK. We did…

A day of baking hot weather, quirky things and magnificent Kyles of Bute scenery started with a fine lunch in Tarbet, a common place name in Gaelic which apparently means ‘you can’t top a Tunnock’s’. As we cycled out to the ferry there was a man playing the bagpipes by the side of the road….

The ferry to Oban took me and Mark into summer. On the mainland it was glorious sunny weather, Scotland at its May best. After the windswept austerity of the Hebrides it was a surprise to see things like trees, and our own shadows, again. The scenery south from Oban was wonderful, lochy and green and…

The good news is today that there was no wind. The bad news is that there was fog instead. So you could cycle at a normal speed again, you just couldn’t see anything. Still, in the tantalising periods of terrible visibility between those of no visibility, I nipped across from Barra to Vatersay, the last…

A torrid night of gale force winds and driving rain reduced my tent, and most of its contents, to a sodden lump this morning. At least I know now that the various bits of ‘lightweight’ camping kit I bought really are lightweight – I could see them floating around the tent at 1.30am. So, another…

Today was mostly another long, tough day cycling right into a strong headwind. A beautiful (and wind-free) early morning’s ride along the remarkable Golden Road, though, which threads it way down the east coast of Harris through fishing villages. After lunch, island-hopping in earnest through astounding landscapes of mountains, lochs, cobalt sea and custard beaches:…