Scotland 2025 Day 6 - DON’T PANIC Mr Mainwaring!

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 helpful.

We got to Fort William on time. London Alan arrived the following morning off the overnight non-sleeper train. I had prepared for his dead on arrival by requisitioning an old Calmac ferry onto which we could place his body with his Croix de Fer (appropriately named) bike across his chest before setting the whole shebang on fire Viking funeral style and kicking the burning hulk out into lock Linnie. 

DON'T PANIC! No I won’t. I’m disappointed. Somehow he survived. Bugger! I was so looking forward to a good launch.

David too arrived later that day. He lives in Milngavie - a wee well manicured ex slag heap of a place on the North West side of Glasgow that’s so much better at dentistry than any other part of the city. Nonetheless it still took him over 5 hours to get here.

Now David has such a genteel lilt to his accent - a whipped cream voice which he sprays lovingly on everyone. This has one of two effects. Either it disarms the occasional mad Scottish man or woman who pray and hope that he truly is a dentist. Or it will cause women to fall in love with him. Be careful girls. This is a cunning ploy to entrap young fillies and other bi-cycling types into his dark underworld. 

DON'T PANIC! Shhhh. I will tell more of this later when we are alone.

Weather wise. Well the high pressure I aim for which normally plants itself to the north of Scotland and bathes the west coast with glorious sunshine and cool north easterly winds came to this part of the world 4 blimmin weeks early this year. And has now frogged off. It’s been replaced by much milder south westerlies caused by Atlantic lows. Which of course has brought lashes of rain to this neck of the woods. Aw God. Two weeks of riding in the wind and rain. Gah! 

It ab-so-bloody-lute-ly pi$$ed it down both nights we were in Fort William. Proper spring squalls followed which have a harsh wind not unlike some of my previous girlfriends. Hail in the mix too. Jeez! And we got clobbered by it. Stingy nasty stuff in combination with a hard headwind on a steep incline. And today is day one of 600 miles. Gawd!

DON'T PANIC! We thank God that showers on the backside of Atlantic weather systems do not last for long. 

However they do leave rather large puddles in the road. I found myself looking hard into the souls of the oncoming truck drivers to guess if they’re gonna hit that really big puddle at which I was furiously gesticulating. 

I imagined a driver with a lifetime of pain with their teeth and with madness in their brain determined to inflict similar onto others. Especially cyclists, cos they just know there’s no way they would find them in Aberdeen later that day. I guess they looked back into my soul and saw the mind of a determined tour cyclist who if necessary would chase them all the way to Aberdeen before inflicting as much pain on them as possible for hitting that enormous puddle by fitting them with braces without anaesthetic. 

DON'T PANIC! They always pull out.

Nonetheless I guess weather wise we’ve done pretty damn good. We are approaching Stornoway with a fair wind in our backs and a powerful sun in between the fast moving at times fair weather clouds.

London Alan decides that he is carrying too much stuff so starts to half empty shampoo bottles, tooth pastes, skin lotions, shaving creams, aftershaves and deodorants into the toilet bowl. Metro man he is. Other non essential stuff goes in the bin. Valuable stuff needs to be sent home.

We find a post office. Dutifully a large padded bag is bought with a selection of stamps to cover the air fare home. Later in the day he sets about packing his valuables which must have included his brain as he sealed the bag with the stamps inside. Posts offices are far and wide in these islands so the bag joined us on part of the ride. 

DON'T PANIC! They do in fact have a postal service in the Outer Hebrides and would you believe it - more than one post office!

As a result of that faux pas I imagined a day a little while ago where London Alan had a sudden urge to decorate a room. With all ecutruments to hand he set about the job with Rapha wallpaper. At the end whilst looking around admiring his handiwork he suddenly realised he couldn’t find the door! 

DON'T PANIC!  He still had his phone on him and he could just ask someone to open the door from the other side.

I travel light. Nothing at all like London Alan with his chest sized panniers. I have no creams and rubs. I clean my teeth by gnawing on the rim of Domestos flavoured sinks. Washing myself and my clothing with shower gel. Etc. I am a heavy man and so have to travel lite. I’m also not well brought up. for Example.

We’re all together in a private Bunkhouse room in Tarbert. Brad lets out a burp! I follow with a chirp from the wrong end. Nothing too shocking. Except for the smell. Brad dives under the covers. David lets out an ‘Ooh deary me’… London Alan stands up, reaches into his cavernous panniers and pulls a HAZMAT suit out, climbs in, zips up fully, looks at us with distain through the plastic window, has a small chirrup accident himself and only then finds out that the suit has a faulty zip just before he wrestles himself to the ground.

DON’T PANIC! I foresaw this being a problem so had the foresight to put an emergency can opener inside the suit.

Tomorrow I will tell another chesty tail about our final day in the Outer Hebrides and the journey back to Ullapool.

Ciao for now