Day 1: Windy Wheeling

The word “sleeper” is somewhat redundant in the world of the Caledonian Sleeper. 

Just as I did start to drift off there came a knock on the door; it was time to play bike jenga. Which was fine, except for the fact that it took quite a long time. For reasons that I still cannot quite explain, I had to sit on the platform in a deserted Edinburgh Waverley station and watch the train split and shuffle, then at 4:15, one hour after I’d been unceremoniously woken up, I moved my bike. I won’t lie, it was a bit odd. And cold. 

In the meantime, the ferry company was warning that my 5.5 hour crossing to Barra on Tuesday was “likely to be disrupted” due to strong winds. 

It looked like I had a choice to make: stick to plan A and risk that the forecast winds wouldn’t happen, or change my plan, race to Oban, miss Mull and sail to the Hebrides a day early.

In the morning, the ferry website had upgraded its warning - it was likely that tomorrow’s sailing would be cancelled. So plan B it was. That meant I had 60km to ride in 2.5 hours. Normally that would be a comfortable ask, but I was loaded up and riding into a headwind. Time to have a word with myself then. 

The ride started out nicely, the wind was fairly strong and cold but the sun was threatening to come out and the forecast rain hadn’t materialised. Yet. When I planned the route I was somewhat concerned that I’d basically be riding 25 miles along the A85 but I need not have worried. It was as desolate as Edinburgh Waverley station at 3:30am, I pretty much had the road to myself. 

My route followed the River Orchy and the railway line down to the quite splendid Loch Awe which I followed for a good few miles before turning off the main road in the village of Taynuilt. 

This took me along a rugged and remote single track which headed into the hills. There followed 20km of rollercoaster road which - together with the headwind - quickly sapped me of what energy I had left. It was certainly more fun than the A85 but much slower going. No sooner had I started to get worried that I’d miss the ferry, I was greated with a sign telling me I had 2.5 miles to Oban, accompanied by smooth tarmac. I’d be fine. 

I rolled into Oban, negotiated a date change on my ferry ticket, and before long I was boarding the ferry. A bit gutted I didn’t make Mull, but it could have been worse, and I now have 5 hours on a ferry to make a new plan…

The 5 hours passed reasonably quickly, albeit the view for yhe first 90 minutes was of the fine scenery on Mull. Grrr. 

Then the rain started. It was fairly bleak when we docked at Castlebay, but I had 35km to get to the campsite on the north of the island and the bike wasn’t going to ride itself. 

Feeling adventurous, I diverted south and over a causeway to the small island of Vatersay, population 90. Vatrrsay also happens to be home to the start of the Hebridean Way, the route I was loosely going to be following for the next few days. 

Battling a fierce headwind I made it to the sign to take an obligatory photo but my phone battery had died. No, I didn’t charge it on the ferry. Yes, that was a little stupid. So for 5 minutes next to a sign on a sparsely populated island there stood a man in the rain and wind trying to find a battery pack and charging leads, then waiting for the phone to have enough juice to turn on and take a photo. So here it is. You’d better like it. 

I then turned and enjoyed some tailwind for a few km before heading again west into the wind which was getting stronger. 

The rain was on and off, the beaches in the sunshine would have been divine. They weren’t too shabby in the drizzle, but I wasn’t up for swimming so I ploughed on. 

Eventually I took the left turn towards the campsite and passed the islands airport which is on the beach. It’s the only airport in the world whose departure times are governed by the tide. 

I was getting tired by now, it was past 6pm and I’d been on the go since 8am. Plus the rain was back and the wind wasn’t backing off. 

I arrived at the campsite tired, wet and wind beaten. So much so that the campsite owner gave me £2 so I could have a hot shower. Legend. 

As campsites go, it’s not a bad spot. The forecast tonight is a little fruity, and I’m booked on the early ferry over to Eriskay tomorrow morning. I’d best get some sleep.