T1me to Ride

 It should have been straightforward. Just climb onto the sleeper at Fort William, rest until Edinburgh, play silly beggars with the bike for an hour, back to bed and get up at Euston at 8am. Yeah. Never quite that simple though is it. The train, it would appear, was incapable of providing power to the carriages and therefore health and safety say no. And so the train home was cancelled, just like that.  There then followed some excitement as 50 odd passengers confronted 2 reasonably incompetent staff, trying to work out what happened next. Nothing happened next, for an hour. Eventually the decision was made that passengers would be transported to Edinburgh in taxis, insodoing would catch the train up and we’d get on the sleeper at Edinburgh. Why the coaches would have power at Edinburgh when they didn’t at Fort William was not quite explained but I’m sure it makes perfect sense… So, I took my bike apart. That is to say both wheels and 6 bags were squeezed into the back of a taxi as we

I discovered last night, for the first time on my journey, THE MIDGE. Relentless little beasts. They were nowhere to be seen during the day, but about 5pm one of their number obviously raised the proverbial flag and just like that, life became truly unpleasant.  No choice then but to look for a bar. I found one a short walk from the campsite and enjoyed (non rehydrated) fish & chips. It had been my 4th helping of this particular menu item in less than a week. I think that’s ok isn’t it?? I kept my eyes peeled for the Northern Lights, alas too much cloud.  Right, where was I? Glad I was 30km nearer the ferry port than I was supposed to be, is where I was. I knew when I planned the trip that I’d have an early start to catch the 10:30 ferry to Mallaig. If I caught the later one, I’d be racing to Fort William.  Moving location meant that I likely had a 90 minute ride to Armadale as opposed to a 3 hour ride, so a “leisurely” 7am alarm. Ideal.  I woke to dry skies and got on with the tas

Skye is an assault on the senses. That is to say that on nipping in to pub opposite the campsite last night I saw more people that I’d seen in total in the past 2 days. To be fair it was a busy pub. But you get my point.  Whilst there, I took the opportunity to plan the next 24 hours. What to do with this day which had been given back to me thanks to the high winds of Mull Sound which seemed like a lifetime ago.  My first thought was to take a loop around Skye on a route which just so happened to pass the door of the Talisker distillery. Then I realised that it was impossible to do a tasting tour without at least 2 weeks notice.  My next plan was a loop of Loch Alsh and Loch Dutch. A cunning plan indeed since it would provide an opportunity to dump my tent & luggage at a campsite 30km away and continue the rest of the loop without carrying it all, and it would put me 30km nearer the ferry to Mallaig the following morning, meaning longer in bed. Lovely. That sorted, I decided to inv