Fat Bloke on a Bike

How sad. Like most things in this life it has been and gone in a flash. That’s the Outer Hebrides done. 3 days of magnificent cycling in such a beautiful part of the world. Meeting more folk from all over the world than I have ever met before in just one day. You just get chatting you see. It’s impossible not to. Every cyclist has a pace. Some faster than others. Some slower. Thus on every ride, and because this part of the world is blathered by cyclists, there are loads of slow speed overtake moments cos this is a place made almost entirely of hills. My first slap on this ride is from a Canadian lady. Another retiree travelling around the world cycling in more places than I’ve ever been. And thats a lot. A divorcee I’m guessing with a bob or two in the bank who ran a cosmetics advertising agency with her husband. A man she thinks she should have ejected from her life much sooner than the 35 years that it took her. A lady with a fine complexion. Someone who gave me a pleasant friendly...

David the Gentle Giant is a lovely bloke. He has such soft dulcet tones when he speaks. Such a lovely genteel accent. Happy to cover the world with his warm Glaswegian creamy voice to make folk feel good and fuzzy. A first class anaesthetic of a man who for sure was a dentist in a previous life. He is a man of passions. Loves walking. Lives cycling. Abso-bloody-lutely loves his family and has somewhat of a passion for photography. The land in this part of the world is drop dead beautiful. The Outer Hebrides are a chain of islands ravaged by harsh north Atlantic storms cos there’s no Ireland in the way to protect them. Stormy just like the fiery relationship between Rhett and Scarlett in Gone With The Wind. Well, that’s a very appropriate comparison for this place and for this holiday in more ways than one. It is also abso-bloody-lutely ravaged by wind blown tour cyclists. From every country around the world. All here I assume to sample north Atlantic wind and rain cos along with stu...

I can’t believe it. We are finally in a stunning part of the world after many days of just trying to get here. To start was the 8 plus hour journey on the train by me and Brad the Lad with the obligatory mad dash between trains in Edinburgh and Glasgow. We learnt quickly that avoiding the expensive and rubbish foodstuff that British Rail serves upon you needs good forward planning.  The preparation of a ‘snap box’ is a must cos there ain’t no places to buy anything that resembles food of any quality on the wrong side of the automatic barriers at Edinburgh and Glasgow railway stations. A moment of mad panic as Brad jumped the barriers to raid the M&S counter where all the touch to pay scanners were off line resulted in a high speed walk to get into the right section of the train going north. Getting in the wrong section would send us to Oban instead of Fort William when the train split just before going over Rannock Moor.   DON'T PANIC! The platform staff were very h...

We’ve finally arrived in the Outer Hebrides. A mid afternoon departure on the Mallaig ferry with an early evening bike ride to the Tractor Shed Camping Pods. We needed to get a move on as we had 40 plus miles into a headwind and heavy North Atlantic showers. We didn’t arrive at the shed until approx 11pm. Bog basic facilities. Pod found in the late evening twilight and towels found in the do not enter room and we took it in turns to shower sharing towels and the like to keep the costs down. Brad the Lad had just soaped his shorn bits when the RCD trip blew leaving him fumbling for his monickers in the pitch black. Poor Brad. There’s a lot if time spent waiting for or on ferries and a lot of time emptying oneself of the remains of that day wee wee wise or the previous days mastications and a lot of time too to check things out. After all in the mad rush from home its quite possible that something was forgotten or lost on the journey. It’s also been a while since we last saw one anoth...

It’s been a revelation. A rediscovery of sorts. I recently bought some fresh nutmeg from Tesco’s cosmetics counter. You know, them nut like things that look not too dissimilar to mummified testicles. No not the customer service staff! Nutmegs! I’m currently scratching my nuts with something hard more times than Brad the Lad ever might have his hands down the front of his pants. So that’s a lot! I’d forgotten I had a nut in my hand which accidentally scared ma boys to death! I’m sprinkling the fresh gratings on everything and - what a surprise! You can use it so much more than on custard pies and rice puddings you know. Yes. Yes. My latest favourite is a few scrapings on Weetabix with a dash of runny hunny and lashings of ice cold milk. Lurvley 😋. I now wander my house with my nuts in my hand sharing their ejaculations on everything I come across. No. No! Not that you dirty minder person you. Like a crap goalie for sure I have been nutmegged. Yesterday was the first proper d...

I for one am no Moses. I’ve only ever suffered a burning bush courtesy of some dim and distant girlfriend - and I’m not talking about it happening a long time ago here.  Nonetheless being a religious pie eater with my own sackcloth wardrobe pie symbolism clothing designs and someone who lives in a shed with a shrine to all things biking I thought it time to write down the Ten Commandments by which I live my bicycling life.  Here ya go! 1. I AM THE LORD THY BICYCLE: THOU SHALT NOT HAVE STRANGE RECUMBENTS BEFORE ME. COMMANDS: faith, hope, love, and worship of bikes; reverence for holy things - like saddles with cutouts that give relief to one’s perennium. Ahhhh-men! FORBIDS: idolatry; superstition; spiritism; tempting God; sacrilege; attendance at false worship of anything other than your bike especially tandems and other 3 wheel faux bikes.  2. THOU SHALL NOT TAKE THE NAME OF THE LORD THY BIKE IN VAIN. COMMANDS: reverence in speaking about your bike; the keeping of oaths a...

I am sorry but I have no time to make a decent blog entry tonight. I was looking forward to expressing some more silly thoughts about the journey so far. Sadly no time. Simply it’s taken until now to get our accommodation sorted post a booking error between the Croit Anna sh1thotel and Booking.com. Compounded by the shockingly crap handling of the issue by the Booking.com customer service agent which resulted in our accommodation being CANCELLED with - unfunnily enough - no other accommodation available in the west of Scotland this wet bank holiday weekend. 😳 I’ll say more about it later when the anger has subsided. Just to say that I negotiated a solution with the sh1thotel for Alan and David to stay in the allocated rooms. Me and Brad are now in another place at £400 quid for the night 😬. With no guarantee I’m going to get any of my money back 😡 With a ‘we have a bite!’ holler to his wife the lucky jackpot winner then took ages to drive across town to open his gold plated Trumpton...

Well thats it. We’re off!  We’ve just joined the train for the 8 plus hours travel from York to Fort William. Then 2 weeks and 600 miles of riding ahead of us through the Scottish mountains and forever rain. Taking ferries for the jaunt out to and up the Outer Hebrides. Then back into the back of beyond, across high gravel mountain passes before following the more tourist friendly routes back down to Edinburgh and finishing in Carlisle. For sure it will be impossible to avoid all of life’s challenges in this part of the world. And that includes only having one change of underpants for the whole journey. No problem! This is how you do it…. Firstly wear the first pair day one the right way around. Day 2 the wrong way around. Then inside out right way around, then inside out wrong way around. Then same again with the next pair. So I’ve got 8 days before I need to find a laundrette or I’ll end up in the gravel. 😬 Me and Brad the Lad are on some mad fangled modern non bike friendly...

I was somewhat melancholic the other weekend.  So many people around me are ill.  Proper ill in that ‘I don't ever want to have what you have’ kinda ill.   It comes with age you know. I talk of the entropy of our bodies which for me post reaching 60 is now quickly increasing as the atoms and molecules from which we are made start to disintegrate. I look closely in the mirror most mornings and reflect on the sight of my no longer youthful, perhaps now careworn face, looking back at me. Teeth that are just about hanging in there. Eyes nowadays that are made out of plastic. Skin wrinklier than the shedded coils off an old racing snake. The salt and pepper remains of my once youthful hairline, whats left of it, getting more salt like every day.   For sure I am blessed to live in a nice house and have the strength and fitness (and lack of arthritis) to be able to do the things that I do. How right now in my sixty third year I am probably the fittest I've ever been.  ...

Go on. Have a guess. Guess what I had for tea last night. You would for sure know if you knew what I was doing!  LOL!  Go on, guess :-) Well.  It’s a lovely sunny spring day again today and theres only 2 weeks to go before me, Brad the Lad, London Alan and David the Gentle Giant begin our 600 mile cycling holiday. LOL!  Holiday! So that’ll be us up and out on our bikes to the Outer Hebrides which should be spectacular in its 100 plus miles of west coast wilderness then the long way down to Edinburgh where London Alan leaves us. David ejects himself on the bombing run into Inverness and me and the Lad then meet Southside Mark on our final leg into Carlisle. 600 miles or so all in the Scottish mountains. After which I will probably go to bed and stay there until the 31st October.   Now there’s a memorable date. Halloween. ‘Hello' Ian (as I said to him when I arrived all sweaty and hot at his front door yesterday), one of my later bosses at BT, used to do stupendou...