Scotland
Late September 2020 With the ongoing COVID19 pandemic limiting our ability to see people, I struggled to decide what to do for my 30th birthday. After much deliberation with Amy, we decided it would be far too difficult to see any meaningfully large group of people, so instead decided to embark on a cycle trip across Scotland via the Coast to Coast Way instead.
Amy had only recently completed the Hebrides Way with some of her friends, so I was eager to have a cycle holiday of my own (having been unable to take any time off work as I had only just started back). The route ran from Annan on the east coast to Queensferry on the west coast – some 200km. We aimed to complete it over a long weekend, staying in B&B’s along the way, travelling with our friend, Emer.
Setting off on a cold Saturday morning, we caught an early train from Glasgow Central Station to Annan. Remarkably, almost all trains in Scotland have a bike carriage so that you can easily store several bikes and cross the country with them without any fuss or hassle. It makes adventure travel so simple – grab your bike and go.
Arriving in Annan we went to the Quarter Cake Cafe for breakfast. I had a rather plain eggs benedict complete with Lidl chorizo slices and a rather disappointing scone. It was an inauspicious, but satisfactory, meal to start our trip.
Cycling a short distance southeast, we arrived at the mouth of the River Annan, with England in view across the bay. Setting off from our western starting point, we began moving northeast along a few busy roads which quickly gave way to quiet country lanes and long highways.
I couldn’t help but be surprised at how hard I found cycling long distance with a fully loaded pannier rack. It had been a while since I had completed any long distance rides, but it all seemed so much more difficult than I was expecting. Nonetheless, we rolled along quiet winding roads, beside aging monasteries, through wooded glens, and through what Emer determined to be good agricultural land. Hopefully the pictures do it justice.
I was relieved after a day of aching legs to arrive in the quaint town of Moffat, soon having a recovery pint at the Black Bull Inn. The skies were blue, the sun was out, and the air was cold. It was just so very pleasant to sit in an old-fashioned pub and enjoy each other’s company - as if we had escaped the whole COVID situation for a time.
That evening, with few bookings available, we settled on dinner at the local Indian restaurant. Whilst the food was actually pretty good in my opinion, the whole situation was a shambles as there were no social distancing, masks, or precautions in sight. I found it more than a little funny how little care was given and how truly haphazard it was, but Amy and Emer were rightfully unsettled.
The following day, after a great night’s rest in a local B&B, we began our day with a very well-prepared English breakfast – far better than the day before.
Having packed our bags, we began preparing our bikes in the crisp morning air. After a cursory inspection of my bike, I was surprised to see my rear tyre oddly coloured. Closer inspection revealed that an elastic rope that Amy had bound my luggage with the day before had been pulled tight across my wheel. I had therefore been riding with a brake the entire first day. The rope itself barely had any intact fibres left, having been essentially worn through by the wheel.
After equal parts outrage, blame, and laughter, I fixed everything up and we made off. My bike felt remarkably lighter, unsurprisingly.
Soon after leaving the township, we met one of the highlights of the trip, the oddly named Devil’s Beef Tub: a long, steady climb through a stunning lowland valley. Feeling newly freed from Amy’s sabotage, I felt reinvigorated and climbed aggressively until I reached the summit. We were blessed with blue skies and a slight, cool breeze. It was memorable and beautiful.
After descending at pace, we then made way through the Scottish Borders and the Tweed Valley.
Again, I hope the pictures do it justice.
Soon enough we arrived in the idyllic Peebles. After checking in to our exceptionally helpful B&B, we made way to the Bridge Inn for a few ales beside the river and beneath the town’s belltower. We enjoyed the simple pleasure of each other's company and the picturesque surrounds for a long while before wandering up the road to the County Hotel for dinner.
The following day began with us following a series of quiet, narrow roads along several golf courses, streams, and forests. Beautiful surrounds, but it was hard to not think about the fact that today's ride was over 90km.
For much of the first 50km, we were alone but for a few passing cars. The day was overcast and at times eerily quiet. The scenery changed from lowland forests, to moorland, to desolate hills, and back again. Rolling hills gave us steady, punishing climbs and fast, winding descents. If you aren't in to cycling it's hard to explain how great it all was.
As we left the lowland hills behind and began returning to civilisation, things unfortunately became so much more of an effort. More traffic, busier paths and roads, worse signage – it wasn’t all that appealing. Riding through Dalkeith and stopping for lunch ended up being quite a chore in the end.
Things only worsened upon reaching the outskirts of Edinburgh, falling apart once we reach Leith, an otherwise delightful town. After struggling to find waypoints and being shaken violently by cobbled streets, the girls eventually stopped and laughed at the fact that one of waypoints was actually hidden by construction work. I made them laugh hysterically at our misfortune by informing them that I had just noticed a puncture in my rear tyre. It all seemed to fall apart and Queensferry seemed very far away all of a sudden.
Fortunately, I managed to change my tyre out quickly and without complication. Unfortunately, however, I didn’t have any way of pumping my tyre up to the pressure needed for road tyres and had to use a hand pump to do my best. After the ride, I found my pressure to be about 45psi – when it should be at least 100psi. ideally about 120psi. It made for a stressful ride.
Travelling through the confusing and doubled-back paths of Musselbrough and Whitecraigs, we pushed on past our 70th, 80th, and 90th kilometres for the day. We were all beginning to truly tire. In the distance, however, we began to see the distinctive Forth Rail Bridge.
With the sun beginning to set, we found ourselves finally at the Firth of Forth.
In need of somewhere to recover, we struggled, frustratingly, to find anywhere that would take us. After being knocked back from yet another pub, we stood pathetically out the front of the Tap Inn looking at our options. We must've been quite a sight, as the owner came out and asked if we really had nowhere else to go - shortly thereafter moving a few tables to fit us in. Soon enough, burgers and pints were being brought to us. A welcome act of kindness to we haggard travellers, punctuated by the owner's response when we asked later if the kitchen was still open: "it wasn't even open when you came!".
Exhausted, we made our way to the train station and begun our commute back to Glasgow, all the while reflecting on how great our weekend turned out to be. It was an unconventional birthday, but a wonderful one. It was great to escape for a time and enjoy how much Scotland has to offer.
It's hard not to think that this'll be the way we'll be travelling for some time to come.
JC
“It is not the mountain we conquer but ourselves.”
Sir Edmund Hillary
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