Scottish accent ; "babeh, babeh, come here babeh" que high pitched scottish bitching, "gimme me mobile, where's my Fucking mobile? Where is it? ". Que shouting and fighting and the sound of police sirens followed by "si'down on the curb, I wonni tell yous again!" This was how we were awoken at 1am this morning to the freezing cold reality that our tent was only feet away from a busy road. Combined with the throb of boy racers engines blaring at illegal speeds past our tents and we were not best set for the day ahead. Never the less we broke camp and paid for our stay (all of £1 each!) And set way southwards past Ayr on minor roads. The weather pulled through for us and it stayed dry if a little chilly. Rachel's chain fell off on the very first hill and we struggled to keep a good pace with lack of sleep and breakfast to blame.
We stopped for elevensies for 10 minutes and the sun turned up the heat enough to remove leg warmers and air our legs for the first time since fort william.
The scenery around Dalmellington was somehow familiar to us southerners and made me feel closer to home. The hard sharp mountainous peaks of days past had been replaced by lushous green fields on rolling hills. If I were to ever live in scotland (not happening) south Ayrshire looks the place for me.
The climbs today were as high as any other day, but by eating every 1.5 hours and with the weather behind us (even the wind most the time) we were able to get over them with little more than sweat and achy legs. The chorus of "argh" "ooo" "eeee " as we mounted the bikes could still be heard, but saddle sores are mostly In the past it seems -touch wood- . Towards the end of the day we rolled through a little town called Moniaive. What a wonderful place in the sun light. The buildings are works of art, the people are polite and friendly, and just the general atmosphere is fantastic. The town shop's owner even offered to put our bikes in his garage if we were going to visit for a while, as it was we just asked him to keep the shop open a few more minutes for us, which he did.
From there it was just another 9 miles to our camp for the night - glenmidge smithy. A gem of a site, small, secluded £6 a person and worth every penny. Particularly good for cycle campers as there is a good sheltered place to pitch, a toilet, a good warm shower and also a garage with everything you need. Specially when raining. Chairs and table (so you can eat like real people again!) Plug sockets for charging, a fridge, freezer, microwave, washing machine, and even an electric hob. All in the dry and free to use. Marvelous place. We even made it in good time, 6pm!
Tomorrow we enter England, and we are all excited. Not least because tuesday is a rest day and we will be able to wash our clothes! But also because it marks our half way point in days and also distance.
Miles cycled: 62
Times "natures toilet" used: 7
Biker nods reciprocated: 6
Annual village fares missed by one day: 1 (Carsphairn)
Showers had: 2 (to make up for yesterday)
Pictures to follow, am off grid tonight.
Loving your JOGLE updates, especially the honesty of what it's like. I wonder if it would be different - and perhaps viewed with rose coloured glasses - if the review of the trip was done a few days after it was completed?
ReplyDeleteAnyway, keep it up and all the best on the rest of your trip!
You're not far from England now, so get out your English phrase books. Try this: 'oi mate, givvus a cup o char wiv eight spewns o sugar.!' The English like that sort of thing.
ReplyDeleteAxolotls send their love.