Tag Archives: castles

Leg 60 – to somewhere near Penbryn, via Aberystwyth

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The following was one of the toughest days of the tour so far, just down to the conditions and hills, but satisfying to cover around 100 miles, and good to meet a few friendly folk.

30 June 2013

I was up in good time, keen to cover a good distance and get ahead of the game in my quest to get to Latitude by 18 July. Unfortunately it was another overcast and windy day, the prevailing south westerly having strengthened overnight which was going to prove tough. Why couldn’t there just be no wind for a day or two? Perhaps I’d angered those Norse gods again.

Post a check over the Ridgeback I received a bacon roll from my next door neighbours, a bonus I wasn’t going to turn down. It was their last day camping before driving back to the Midlands so they had food to use up, and I was perfectly placed to oblige in ensuring nothing went to waste! Perhaps some of those Norse gods were in fact on my side.

Suitably loaded with calories, and with my bike loaded with luggage, I was on the road by 09.30 pedalling off towards Harlech.

Bike loaded and read for another day’s riding

Harlech has an impressive castle, overlooking Tremadog Bay. Unsurprisingly it’s another castle that was originally built by Edward I, and was also the stronghold of Henry Tudor. The Welsh ruler Owain Glyndwr captured the castle, along with large parts of Wales during the revolt against the English which started in 1400, and lasted through to 1409 when he disappeared; the English never caught him though.

Harlech Castle 1

The castle lies atop a crag, about a half a mile from the sea, although when it was first built the coastline was a lot closer.

Harlech Castle 2

Pedalling on down the A496 I had the song ‘Men of Harlech’ going around my head for a good hour. It’s a good stirring tune, perfect for a grey day, and I was soon humming it quite loudly. I like it when they sing it in the film Zulu. The road follows the coast down to Barmouth, a once popular tourist destination, taking in several quite big hills on the way.

Hills above Harlech, looking back North toward the Lleyn Peninsula

A random picture of my leg, note tan line

A random accidental picture of my leg, note tan line.

I made it to Barmouth in good time, where the Great Western used to deliver droves of holiday makers for their once a year seaside break from up north. By the looks of it tourists are still visiting in significant numbers.

River (Afon) Mawddach, Barmouth

I was able to take the toll bridge over the Afon Mawddach, which is open to pedestrians and cyclists and saved me a long trek inland. As with the previous day’s toll bridge there was no-one to pay a toll to, so I happily trundled over the somewhat bumpy wooden boards across the river.

Toll bridge looking back towards Barmouth

There are rail tracks across the bridge, and I believe a train still runs across it, but it didn’t make an appearance whilst I was there.

Toll bridge looking towards opposite shore from Barmouth

On the other side I continued around to Rhoslefain, getting a bit blasted by the wind. I felt a bit better about it as at least there were more cyclists out today, getting equally blasted and thus sharing the pain. Greetings and mutterings about the weather were exchanged with several, and I was joined by one near Bryncrug. Eddy stayed with me until Tywyn, which was really nice as I was able to slipstream him slightly, taking the edge off the wind. I hadn’t ridden with anyone in a while and it was good to chat as we pedalled along. I think he’d recognised I was struggling slightly with my heavier load, and I certainly made better time for the next stretch.

We both stopped at a cafe in Tywyn, in need of sustenance. I opted for the full Sunday roast and Rhubard crumble, Eddy for just the crumble. I figured my bike was a lot heavier so I could justify the extra calories, plus I still had a long way to go. Eddy bought me a coffee which was nice, and it was good to chat over lunch with a fellow cyclist. Having had quite a hard morning with the weather and hills, riding with someone else, followed by a very decent lunch break, was a great morale boost. Eddy is from Worcester and regularly comes up to the Welsh coast to cycle. He’s a member of a road cycling club, but also gets in some mountain biking; sometimes it’s a case of never the twain will meet however I think it’s good to get in a bit of both. Speeding downhill on a mountain bike, almost expecting to be thrown off at some point, can be very exhilarating. It was good to share experiences, the good, bad and ugly, and my theory on hills being honest and the wind dishonest.

Thanks for the drink and for the slipstreaming Eddy, much appreciated, and good luck on your Lejog!

Eddy had to leave so I finished dessert, which had an ample amount of custard, and called my brother to say hello before getting going again.

It didn’t take me long to get to Aberdyfi, or Aberdovey, where the windsurfers were out in force, along with kite surfers a bit further up the coast. The beach was really busy and it was perfect conditions if you were using the wind to power your transit, rather than it being a pain in the proverbial.

Aberdyfi beach panorama

According to my brother, a keen windsurfer himself now he doesn’t spend most of the time in the sea rather than on the board, the coast around here is very popular with windsurfers. I could see why, and there seemed to be a competition or at least gathering of surfers going on.

Aberdyfi windsurfers 1

Several of them were ripping along, with good planes going, and some quick carve gybes that if I’d attempted would have resulted in being catapulted off the front of the board, and the sale mast landing on my head.

Boards on the beach

Aberdyfi windsurfers 2

I’m quite tempted to have a go again myself when I get back to Norfolk, perhaps going up to Hunstanton with Will (brother) at some point, although it’s been a few years so I’ll probably spend most of my time in the water.

Flags flying in Aberdyfi

Leaving the windsurfers behind there followed a long stint inland alongside the Afon Dyfi (River Dovey), which doesn’t have a handy toll bridge over it. It was nice to have a bit of a tailwind down to Machynlleth, but then I had to turn back south west towards Aberystwyth. I passed an Osprey centre just before Furnace, but couldn’t spot any of these great birds of prey as I rode along, through quite a bit of forest alongside the river.

There’s an old iron smelting site in Furnace, from whence the town’s name is derived. The building has a great waterwheel, and was obviously quite an important industrial spot from the 1750’s through to the 19th century.

Waterfall next to Furnace

Iron smelting building and waterwheel

Waterfall and enthusiastic springer spaniels

At Tre’r-Ddol I turned on to the B4353 to follow the coast, over some flatter terrain to Borth, although the lack of hills meant it was more exposed and I was getting knocked about by the wind again. Borth was a childhood holiday spot for my Mum, which was just a smattering of years ago of course, and she remembers it being just as windy when she used to visit.

A blustery day in Borth – big hill coming up

Borth beach – not too popular today

Borth beach – looking south

Out of Borth I had to tackle a very long and very steep hill climb, with a few 25% sections that really pushed the limits of my ascending ability. I had to stop to rest a couple of times, but made it up the hill without having to push which was pretty satisfying. I don’t think I could have done that when I’d started a couple of months back.

Top of the hill looking back towards Borth

The road continued to be challenging as I pedalled over to Aberystwyth, with lots of long, steep and continuous hills. Any cyclist up for a challenge should consider the B4572 from Borth to Aberystwyth, very satisfying once you’ve made it. Do it on a fully loaded touring bike for the extra challenge. A random passing car even gave me a cheer on the final ascent before the long downhill section into town, all encouragement was gratefully received.

I had a quick cycle around Aberystwyth, considered stopping for a quick pub break, but didn’t find anywhere inspiring so decided to push on.

Aberystwyth seafront

Aberystwyth University building

Aberystwyth Harbour – choppy sea

Cardigan Castle is another one built by Edward I, who replaced the original Norman built fortress. The castle was razed by parliamentary forces during the English Civil War, so is now mostly in ruins.

Aberystwyth Castle

With lots of miles to do but doubtful of reaching Cardigan, my original target for the day, I rode south from Aberystwyth, joining the A487. The next set of hills weren’t small, so I settled into a slow but steady pace, taking them one after the other and refusing to stop for a rest. Up, then down, and repeat. The constant hills were stopping me from getting into any real rhythm, and with the day drawing on I was beginning to think I’d be wild camping if I didn’t stumble upon a campsite. I stopped at a handy garage to buy a few snacks to keep me going – you can never go far wrong with an emergency pork pie break, bag of crisps to replace salt, and perhaps a bottle of chocolate milk.

I eventually made it to Aberaeron, pushing on past at least two campsites whilst I still had a few hours of daylight left. Despite being tired I was keen to get a few more miles done. Sometimes I just can’t decide when to stop, and defer making a decision for ‘just a few more miles’ to see what’s around the next corner.

The big hills continued as I pedalled to Llanarth, where I turned off the main road on to the B4342 to New Quay, not to be confused with the Newquay down in Cornwall. Earlier I’d checked the Internet on my phone and seen there were lots of campsites around New Quay, so thought it would be a good place to stop. Unfortunately despite being given directions by a helpful local, and following what I thought was a signpost to a campsite, I couldn’t find one, and didn’t have enough signal on my phone to check the web again. I have absolutely no doubt I passed with a few hundred metres of several, but one of my other flaws when cycling is I don’t like to turn around and retrace my route, so I just kept on going out of New Quay, tackling more hills, but enjoying the fine evening. Oh, and more snacks were duly consumed to keep up energy levels.

Verdant Welsh Countryside near Llangrannog

With the sun starting to get seriously low I followed the signposts to Llangrannog, sure I’d find a campsite somewhere. I didn’t, the road just continued to go up and down, but was very pretty. I passed through Nanternis, continuing to ride parallel to the coast as much as possible, and after wiggling around a bit made it to Llangrannog.

Llangrannog Beach

According to local legend one of the rocks sticking up in the bay is actually the tooth from a giant named Bica, who spat it out when he got toothache.

Llangrannog panorama

The village and beach looked beautiful with the sun going down, and there’s a nice looking pub, but no campsite I could find.

Llangrannog pub

I had to cycle up another steep hill to get out of the Llangrannog, something that was definitely becoming a feature of this part of the Wales with the road following the coastline and dipping down into all the valleys and coves.

Me looking a bit wild in Llangrannog

Llangrannog – silhouette of the statue of St Caranog

The statue definitely has a nice view.

St Caranog, Llangrannog

Llangrannog looking North

Llangrannog Village

I rode down country lanes continuing to look for a place to camp (on reflection I should have pitched up next to the saint). It was still light, vaguely, but very dark where the trees formed tunnels over the road, and I had to get my lights out. The road continued to be very pretty, but I was starting to get very tired due to the incessant hills, and I was passing lots of farms, with lots of sheep who were looking at me balefully as usual.

On one particularly wriggly bit of road I rounded a corner to come face-to-face with a frisky bullock. This wasn’t the first annoyed bovine I’d met on this tour, but it was definitely more aggressive than it’s Scottish cousin, having become a bit panicked by a car horn. It’s fine beeping your car horn to try and encourage a cow off the road when you’re safely ensconced within a metal body, however I didn’t have that luxury on my bike. Thankfully after about a minute of it pacing about, and me slowly backing off, the farmer turned up with a couple of helpers. Two of them did have to jump back into their Landrover at one point when the bullock charged them, but eventually they got it back into a field and I pedalled on unmolested.

My close encounters with Welsh farm animals continued as I rode through another farm, where three dogs bounded out to greet me, barking manically. I was a bit nervous they were going to bite me or my panniers, but they calmed down once I said hello and left me alone thankfully.

Finally, with the light almost gone and post more hills, I found a campsite somewhere between Morfa and Penbryn, near Sarnau, although I wasn’t really sure where I was by this stage, I just knew the coast wasn’t that far away. I arrived about 22.15 and checked in at the farmhouse, the farmer and his son looking a little surprised to have such a late visitor turn up on a bike. It cost me £12 but they were friendly, and a warm shower was most welcome after the hard day.

That was one of, if not the hardest day of the tour so far, due to the bad weather throughout most of it, and leg/lung busting hills. I was however very satisfied to have covered nearly dead on 100 miles, even if it had taken me about 12.5 hours; my average speed had dropped somewhat. I was a bit concerned as to what the state of my legs would be in the morning, and my morale had taken a bit of a beating at times, but thanks to lunch with Eddy, a phone call to my brother, and some nice Welsh countryside I was feeling alright again.

I got my tent up as darkness fell, and it wasn’t long before I was soundly asleep.

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Leg 59 – to Porthmadog via Caernarfon and the Lleyn Peninsula

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29 June 2013

I was beginning to think summer was already over, waking up to another overcast and slightly chilly day. I was also somewhat reluctant to get up due to feeling a little achy after a hard day yesterday. My left calf had a niggling injury that wouldn’t seem to go away, more irritating than anything else, and my right wrist felt battered after some long legs and bumping about a lot. My wrists had been suffering a bit lately due all the vibrations running through the bike into my arms, I probably hold on to the handlebars too tightly which doesn’t help. I’d have to keep an eye on both, and maybe investigate some strapping for my wrists if they got any worse, or ice, ice seems to solve most injuries, if you can get hold of some.

Talli Ho campsite, Bodorgan

With the weather brightening up a bit I got the usual morning routine out of the way, and packed up, attaching the solar panel of my Power Monkey battery pack to the rear rack of my bike, to charge up as I pedalled along. Fingers crossed the sun would stay out. I wasn’t on the road until 10.30, having really wanted to start about an hour earlier, especially now I was covering longer distances each day. To get to London by 17 July I had to make sure I kept my daily average above 80 miles really, so a more disciplined morning routine was needed. It was going to be tricky, especially if I continued riding late into the evening.

Anglesey – ready for another day’s riding

I had about 15 miles left to do on Anglesey, which passed pretty uneventfully aside form lots of traffic on the road and nearly turning right to Aberfraw instead of left to Newborough. I took the south coast road to the Britannia Bridge, just west of the Menai Bridge which I’d crossed yesterday to get onto the island.

Crossing the Britannia Bridge – looking east toward the Menai Bridge

Once over the bridge I took a combination of minor roads and cycle paths to Caernarfon, alongside the Menai Strait. Caernarfon is another old walled own, with a big castle and marina.

Caernarfon – town wall from the marina

The sun was coming out, providing a welcome bit of warmth, and with it getting on towards lunchtime I decided to stop for a bite to eat in one of the many cafes the town boasts. A great all day breakfast and decaf coffee set me up for tackling the Lleyn Peninsula, although you had to watch out for the seagulls.

Beware the seagulls – they’ll nab your breakfast

The table next to me was occupied by a group of hungover lads on a stag do, one of whom was somewhat irritated when a seagull stole his sausage. Not a good result when you’re trying to get over the previous evenings libations.

Caernarfon – street running up to the castle

I had a bit of a cycle around Caernarfon, a Royal town with a rich history. The castle is another that was built by Edward I in his conquest of Wales, as he tried to keep control of the malcontent locals.

Caernarfon Castle

More castle wall – pretty large and imposing

More of Caernarfon Castle

I had a quick scoot around the market, noticing a statue to Lloyd George, the Prime Minister during the First World War.

Caernarfon Market

The Right Honourable Lloyd George

It was pretty packed with tourists so I was glad to make my way out of town, dodging buses and mobility scooters, as well as the usual unobservant pedestrians. There was a lovely old steam train about to set off down the Welsh Highland Railway, from just outside Caernarfon.

Welsh Highland Railway Steam Train

Steam Train – with the castle and medieval town I half expected to see something from Harry Potter

I was able to cycle alongside the railway on a Tarmac’d cycle path for several miles after Caernarfon, saying hello to a few other cyclists out on day trips. The cycle path runs from Caernarfon to Bryncir, with some great views into Snowdonia, however I needed to cut west to the Lleyn Peninsula so had to leave it before too long. I had a brief conversation with a guy on a recumbent, which never look very stable to me, but are pretty fast on the flat. Apparently they’re harder to get up hills though.

At Llandwrog I turned on to the A499, making good time along the flat road. I could see mountains looming in distance, with a thick bank of cloud hanging over the peninsula. It looked like it was going to be a tough afternoon.

Mountains and clouds building up

Sure enough there followed some pretty vigorous hill climbs over to Nefyn, through some pretty dramatic scenery. Thankfully it remained dry, although a bit of rain might have helped bring down the pollen count which was making my eyes itch. There’s not a lot you can do with itchy eyes when you’re out in the middle of lots of grassland, other than load up on anti-histamine and try not to rub them. At times I felt like extracting my eyeballs and giving them a thorough wash, the pollen count must have been really high.

Mountains of the Lleyn Peninsula

I continued down the Lleyn Peninsula, with sheep regarding me balefully from the fields. At least they weren’t occupying the roads, yet, but I’d learnt to distrust the blighters so kept a careful eye out; they can ambush you quite unexpectedly.

Road to Aberdaron

The Welsh seemed to have built their roads to go up and over every available hill in the area, rather than on the nice flat farmland, which incidentally was mostly occupied by sheep. Fine if you’re in a car but tiring on a bike after the first few climbs. I did however make it Aberdaron, which was the furthest west I was going on the peninsula. The road to the end was tempting, the Lleyn peninsula being a wild and beautiful place, but it was a dead end, involved another big hill, and the weather was looking like it was going to close in.

Aberdaron beach

I stopped for a rejuvenating bottle of Bud in Aberdaron, to try and raise morale which had been teetering a bit all day. Wales had not been too kind so far, with some pretty bad weather, tough riding and busy roads. The Lleyn Peninsula provided a break from busy roads, but I was missing the friendlier faces I seemed to have encountered more of in Scotland.

Aberdaron Bay, looking west

I took the minor road back east from Aberdaron, along the south coast, up and over more big hills that were shrouded in low cloud, lending a damp atmosphere to the proceedings.

Steep and foggy hills out of Aberdaron

Fog closing in

It was a little bit eerie cycling though the fog, with sounds distorted and limited vision. I could well imagine giants looming out of murk, hunting for a rogue Englishmen on a bicycle, and chanting ‘Fee Fi Fo Fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman, Be he live, or be he dead, I’ll grind his bones to make my bread’. They’d probably be chanting in Welsh though, which seems to be predominantly spoken in the area, especially in the presence of anyone obviously English.

Thankfully no giants were forthcoming and I passed through Llanbedrog on my way to Pwllheli, joining the A497. I passed a few very tempting looking pubs, with lots of people just going out for Saturday night. I very nearly stopped for a pint, however that would have been dangerous leading perhaps to several pints by this stage. I was starting to feel pretty tired and still had low spirits, but had a way to go before I could stop for the day. At least the wind was behind me which helped speed me along on the next stretch.

Criccieth Castle

The road to Porthmadog was more enjoyable as I sped along the coast through Criccieth, passing gaggles of young ladies out for the evening, some of whom offered encouraging remarks – helped boost morale! I made good time on the flat, smooth and wide road, untroubled by traffic, and was in Porthmadog by 19.30.

Coast looking east towards Porthmadog

I’d originally planned to stop in Porthmadog, but it looked fairly uninspiring so I rode straight through it, and out alongside the railway line. There are lots of campsites along the Welsh coast so I had my fingers crossed I’d find one, but if not I could ride late and find somewhere remote to pitch up for the night. As long as I set off early in the morning I’d be unlikely to bother anyone.

View from cycle path alongside the Britannia Terrace from Porthmadog

Looking inland and north towards Snowdonia

I passed through Minnfford, where I was heckled in a not so encouraging fashion by some local kids, and stopped to look at the signpost to Portmerion where the Prisoner was filmed.

Signpost to Portmeirion

I didn’t see any large rubber balls attempting to herd me into the village, so pedalled on quickly, crossing the toll bridge over the river, the Afon Dwyryd. If it hadn’t been open I’d have had to pedal all the way inland to Maentwrog, before turning back down the other side of the river towards Harlech. The bridge probably saved me about 8 miles and several hills, which would have about finished me off today.

Toll Bridge over the Afon Dwyryd – looking inland

Toll Bridge over the Afon Dwyryd – looking west over sand flats

After crossing the river the scenery improved, with more trees lining the steep hills alongside the road. I found a campsite just down from the toll bridge, before getting to Harlech. It was a lovely quiet spot which was just what I needed by this point, with only a handful of other people on site. The owner was very friendly with a lovely sing-song welsh accent, who instilled a new enthusiasm in me for exploring more of the Welsh countryside; his passion for it was infective.

I was able to recharge my phone in the laundry room, which was handy given the lack of sunshine for most of the day which meant my solar charger hadn’t done a lot.

Campsite just north of Talsarnau

After a shower I settled down to a feast of bread, BBQ’d chicken, crisps, tomatoes, and a whole packet of Cadburys mini rolls for dessert. With my mood considerably improved I caught up on a bit of writing, before turning in for an early night. I’d covered 90.5 miles today, a good result all things considered, and wanted to get an earlier start tomorrow to head down towards Cardigan. I wasn’t sure if I’d make it all the way to Cardigan, it was a long way and I suspected there were some fierce hills in the way. Hopefully the weather would be better whatever the terrain was like.

I fell asleep pretty quickly and deeply, dreaming of foggy roads and giants. At least those pesky sheep hadn’t managed to infiltrate my slumbering thoughts as yet, hopefully the giants would eat them if they did, although they’re probably in league with each other.

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Leg 52 – to Annan

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22 June 2013

Rain, lots of rain. It had been raining when I got into my tent the evening before, and was still raining in the morning when I woke up. I lay in my sleeping bag for a bit contemplating what to do, before eventually deciding it couldn’t be helped and I needed to get on. I wanted to maintain at least 80 mile a day legs for a bit to give me some leeway in getting around to Suffolk in time for the Latitude Festival, and had emailed them to ask if I could reserve a ticket, so the race was on.

I got up as the rain stopped, perfect timing, meaning I could breakfast, shower and pack up relatively quickly and with a mostly dry tent. It was my brother’s birthday so I sent him a message, and would call later assuming I find dry land; everywhere was a little soggy.

After visiting reception to pay up for last night, I was on the road by 10.00, pedalling from Creetown down the coast, under grey skies and into a rather blustery wind. The wind was supposed to be a Westerly, or South Westerly, but seemed to keep changing its mind during the morning session, buffeting me around a bit. The sea in Wigtown Bay was looking progressively rougher, with plenty of white horses and churning waters. There was definitely the possibility of worse weather to come, but it’s so unpredictable in Scotland, it could have been sunny again in a few hours.

Grey skies and slightly choppy sea – although this bay was relatively calm

I pedalled down the A75, past Ravenshall Wood, and Mossyard where I’d considered heading for to camp up last night; I was glad I hadn’t as it didn’t look as good as the Castle Cary Holiday Park and Lairds Inn. I made my way up the side of the Big Water of Fleet, crossing the river just below Gatehouse of Fleet, and turning off the main road on to the B727 down to Borgue. Imagine my ‘relief’ to be passing fields full of sheep again, phew, at least they weren’t in the middle of the road or ambushing me for a change.

Kirkcudbright Bay

Passing through more farmland I cycled up to Kirkcudbright, crossing the River Dee (I think there are a few River Dees around), another sticky-out bit of coastline done. There were several yachts of different shapes and sizes making their way up the river to the marina, including one nice looking catamaran, which I always have trouble spelling for some reason. The yachts were all using their engines rather than being under sail, the wind being somewhat unpredictable and feisty.

Kirkcudbright waterside – few dinghies out sailing

Kirkcudbright waterside – fishing boats moored up

I had a bit of a cycle around the town, dodging the frequent groups of OAPs on tour that seemed to gravitate towards my heavily laden and potentially lethal bike. People use their ears more than they realise for crossing the road, and don’t necessarily look both ways as per the green cross code! I’d have flattened a few people if it wasn’t for my bell, or hollering, or evasive manoeuvres learnt from tackling sheep infested roads.

MacLellan’s Castle – Kirkcudbright

Kirkcudbright is a pretty town, with its castle, marina, and several galleries, as well as the Belfry Cafe where I stopped for a bite to eat. The Belfry turned out to be a great greasy spoon, and I ordered the all day breakfast, after briefly contemplating the roast beef, all very reasonably priced at around a fiver. It proved to be a good choice, with lots of carbs for the ride ahead. I’d try and find somewhere for a roast tomorrow, when I’d be back in England, touch wood.

Kirkcudbright Marina – still a very grey day

Suitably refuelled, and after a quick chat with the mistress of the house concerning the merits of hearty Scottish fare, I got on my way again heading down the A711 along the coast. There are a few dead end roads you can take to get closer to the coast, however I ignored these pedalling all the way around to Dalbeattie. I’d considered visiting Castle Douglas, but that would have meant a detour inland which given the weather I wasn’t really up for, so it would have to wait for another day.

Kirkcudbright Bay from the other side – bit of blue sky!

With quite a bit left to do today I crossed the Urr Water, and pressed on round yet another sticky-out bit, past Dundrennan and its Abbey, with my brakes squealing a bit too loudly down one of the few larger hills of the day; I’d need to adjust them later.

Dundrennan Abbey

Dundrennan Abbey was built in 1142, as a Cistercian Monastery, but fell into ruin following the reformation and the land passing to the crown. Mary Queen of Scots spent her last night in Scotland there, in 1568, before being imprisoned by the English.

There’s an MOD firing range and exercise area along the coast at Dundrennan too, and the red flags were up although I didn’t hear any bangs. I did see a few military helicopters flying about, hovering a bit, and then flying off, so some kind of exercise was going on. It would be fun to abseil out of a helicopter, as long as the rope proved to be long enough and the helicopter didn’t decide to ascend during the abseil.

I rode past Sandyhills and its big beach, which didn’t look very inspiring given the weather. There were still a few enthusiastic punters out on the sand, with kids building castles and people picnicking. Good to see other folks carrying on regardless of the weather, in that fine British tradition of forcing themselves to enjoy the seaside whatever the conditions.

At New Abbey I stopped for a break to have a quick look at Sweetheart Abbey, another Cistercian monastery, which proved to have a slightly morbid tale behind it. The Lady who built it was so devoted to her husband, that when he died in 1269 she had his heart embalmed and kept it in a casket of ivory and silver, as her ‘sweet and silent companion’. Lady Devorgilla lasted for another 20 years, keeping the casket close to hand, before she was buried alongside her husband, John de Balliol, with the casket clasped to her bosom. Call me conservative but that’s a bit odd if you ask me, reeking slightly of necromancy and lichdom. Their son was briefly king of Scotland, but met a tragic end, as so often seems to be the case with royalty of the period.

Sweetheart Abbey 1

The abbey is built out of distinctive local red sandstone, which looks pretty impressive.

Sweetheart Abbey 2

King Edward I stayed at the abbey one Christmas, and fought quite a few battles in the area suppressing the Scots in the Anglo/Scottish War. He spent a bit of time campaigning in the region, generally beating people up, before running out of money and having to retreat as troops and barons deserted. The pope had said his campaign was illegal anyway but he’d been trying to ignore that, obviously trying to route out all the necromancers! (this post might be going a bit odd)

Sweetheart Abbey 3

There’s also a handy toilet handy incidentally, which I was quite glad of, and lots of well marked trails for hikers and bikers.

With time-a-ticking, and the weather not really showing much sign of improvement, I rode on to Dumfries, passing some very muddy mountain bikers loading their bikes back on to their cars, after what must have been a good days off-roading. I’d being seeing signs for Dumfries for days, but found it to be rather unimpressive after a quick look around. Really I’d been expecting more after it being heralded for the last 200 miles or so.

Dumfries – the River Nith

Dumfries city centre

The coast road beckoned once more, so I cycled on through Glencaple, and round to Bankend before scooting along to Annan via minor roads that traversed the railway line several times. There’s a large area of marshland that doesn’t have any roads through it along that stretch, but no doubt has lots of interesting wildlife, and I passed signs to at least one more castle and a famous well.

Coast near River Nith estuary

I didn’t stop as I was enjoying the benefit of a tailwind for once, which had really helped with my average speed over the course of the day, once it had decided which direction to consistently blow from.

Some reeds, I think this was meant to be an arty photo

I arrived in Annan, which isn’t far from Gretna Green and the border, at about 19.00, and found the campsite just outside the town post shopping for dinner. I’d been noticing more and more English accents as I got closer to the border, which sounded a bit odd after so long in Scotland.

Unfortunately it started to rain in earnest as I pulled up to the campsite, having only been spitting for the last few miles. I had to put my tent up as it turned torrential, before diving inside and phoning the warden to let her know I was on site. I spent the rest of the evening cosy in my tent, feasting on pitta bread, cheese and peanut butter. I couldn’t be bothered to cook as I’d have got soaked, even if I’d sat in my porch area, and didn’t fancy one of my ration packs cold that were my back up meals.

Dry land had eluded me, but I gave my brother a call anyway to wish him happy birthday, celebrating with a can of beer which meant having to make a run for the toilet about 30 minutes later, and getting wet anyway. It was great to have a chat, a bit of a morale boost given the weather, and I was looking forwarding to getting back into England the following day.

Post a good days riding, having covered just over 91 miles, I drifted off to sleep pondering what it must have been live up here in the 13th century, during the Anglo/Scottish war. I can’t imagine it was an easy life, and the average life expectancy must have been low – perhaps that explained the suspicious signs of the dark arts being practiced at Sweetheart Abbey (I’m sure Lady Devorgilla was completely innocent really). Mind you I believe the average life expectancy in Scotland is still lower than in the rest of the UK, which needs to be rectified, so maybe there’s still the odd Lich about.

For those unaware of what a Lich is, here’s a picture, courtesy of Google. Also refer to the Witch King of Angmar from Lord of the Rings

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Leg 9 – to Berwick-upon-Tweed via Northumbria

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09 May 2013

After a sound night’s sleep courtesy of Lynne and John, woke up feeling a little dehydrated. Think I need to make sure I drink enough even when it’s cold and I’m not sweating much. It was a beautiful morning with bright sunshine and only the odd fluffy white cloud, however the forecast was for rain later. It often seems to do this in Northumbria, starts off lovely then deteriorates as the day goes on. I made sure I had my waterproof handy after jinxing the weather by applying sun cream.

After a superb and hearty breakfast (full English) I bid goodbye to John, Lynne having left for the office early, thanks again for putting me up guys, recommend no.28 for all touring cyclists! First I cycled back up the hill for a quick look at Warkworth Castle, the first of many I was to see today.

Warkworth Castle 1

Warkworth Castle 2

Warkworth Village

Warkworth Village 2

I then headed back through Warkworth and over the bridge, turning right on to route 1, intending to follow it for a bit before turning inland to visit Alnwick, a short detour down memory lane and to restock with supplies. Reached it in good time after a couple of invigorating hill climbs, and stopped in at Barter Books, the UK’s biggest second hand bookshop and well worth a nosy around. Unfortunately I had no spare room in my panniers, could have spent hours there looking over the dusty shelves of venerable tomes and interesting books of all genres. Feel certain there must be a few magic grimoires hidden amongst the collection, some scenes from the Harry Potter films having been filmed in Alnwick.

Barter Books, Alnwick, well worth a nosy

I meandered around the town some more and past the castle, but didn’t enter – too expensive at £14 to justify a flying visit and I’d been there before. The castle was used for some of the Hogwarts scenes. After restocking with supplies (pasta, sauces, fruit, chocolate and lunch), but forgetting breakfast ingredients, d’oh, I left Alnwick and made my way back to the coast, down to Howick, along to Craster (wondered if there was a Keep there aka Game of Thrones), and on to Embleton.

Bike with banana attachment

Alnwick Castle 1

Alnwick Castle 2

Passed a lot of sheep and lambs lying about in the sunshine. Do sheep lying down mean the same thing as cows lying down, that it’s going to rain? My Gran always said that about cows apparently. It did start to rain about an hour later so reckon so.

Northumbria is littered with castles, a testament to it being on the border with Scotland and more warlike days. I passed several more including Dunstanburgh, right on the coast. The below is the view from route 1 which passes right by it.

Dunstanburgh Castle

I did divert from route 1 briefly as it seemed to leave the coastline and I want to stick to it for the most part, but rejoined it at Seahouses, where you can get a boat a out out to the Farne Islands to visit the seals, colonies of sea birds, and St Cuthbert’s pad; he spent his later life there as a hermit. He was also prior of Lindisfarne (Holy Island) which was somewhere I wanted to visit later, but the tides were wrong to get across the causeway, would have to wait for another visit.

Seahouses 1

Farne Islands in the distance

I didn’t have time for a trip out to the Farne Islands today, and besides I’d been there before, plus it was getting pretty wet and cold. After having lunch (again) I chatted to a fellow Ridgeback Panorama tourer for a bit, always nice, before moving on up the coast past Bamburgh Castle which is very impressive, standing tall and imposing.

Bamburgh Castle

Think Bernard Cornnwall used this location as inspiration for Bebbanburgh, in his Uhtred books which are a great read, set in the period of Alfred the Great with battling Saxons, Normans, Christians and Pagans. If memory serves it was restored by the same person who built Cragside, Lord Armstrong, a great industrialist and inventor. Both places well worth a visit – Cragside especially but was somewhat off route.

I had to leave the coast post Budle Bay to avoid the A1, so moved inland on route 1, and up and down a few more hills. Met a couple from over the pond on heavily laden tourers on their way from Glasgow to Amsterdam, on their first visit to the UK. Nice to chat for a bit and they said how friendly and helpful they had found everyone so far, very encouraging. They started on the 01 May too, and were cycling into the headwind today which I didn’t envy them. Recommended a trip to Norwich on their way down to Harwich to get the boat. They were somewhat surprised I was in in shorts – said I was acclimatising for Scotland!

Continued on to Beal in the drizzle, and stopped at the Beal Barn Cafe for a hot chocolate, followed by a beer as it was still raining – got to keep hydrated after all. Beal is at the head of the causeway to Holy Island, but as mentioned the tide was in so it would have to wait for another visit. This is the second time this has happened to me, poor planning, maybe third time lucky. The Cafe has free wifi and was nice and warm so spent a good hour there sheltering from the rain, and downloaded a new WordPress app for my iPad, hence the photos now. Friendly staff too who gave me marshmallows for my hot chocolate, must have taken pity on my somewhat bedraggled state.

Holy Island in the drizzle

Beal Barn Cafe – rehydrating

From Beal I headed towards Berwick-upon-Tweed. Had to travel on the A1 for a bit to make up some time, and I wanted to get to the campsite to get out of the wind and rain. The A1 was surprisingly okay, despite the big trucks – probably hit it at a quiet point. After an 8 mile stretch I turned off into Scremerston and headed into Berwick looking for the Pot-a-Doodle campsite – they have wigwams which I thought sounded cool. I doubled back through Wittal in a big circle, on a very bumpy route 1 along the cliffs which I was glad it’d avoided earlier. Eventually found the campsite back in Scremerston, but it was closed.

Rode back to Berwick and found a different campsite – East Ord House Park, which accepts tents and had a cosy spot for me next to a monkey puzzle tree. Quickly set up the tent and got a very welcome hot shower, before retreating to the on site bar for a huge plate of liver and bacon, side salad and onion rings. Really nice and very much needed. This was to be my last night in England for a while being only a stones throw from the border, so I had a couple of pints from the Belhaven Brewery, as recommended by the friendly clientele, to mark the occasion, whilst writing up my blog from the comfort of the bar.

All in all a great day at around 70 miles, and trip down memory lane, if a little tough at a couple of points; I did resort to playing some Pantera and Disturbed off my phone at a couple of points to get me up a few hills! Then Coldplay came on which slowed me down somewhat – this was on speaker by the way as don’t agree with cycling in earphones, but there was no one else to annoy apart from the odd bemused looking cow.

Off into Scotland tomorrow, and round to Edinburgh which I hope to reach in time to visit the office in St Andrew’s Square, should be doable depending on the weather. Looking forward to seeing Hugh and Meredith who have offered to put me up for the night.

Bike and body still doing well, although one unpredicted side effect of lots of cycling is a very dry nose, and think I might have burst a few capillaries therein. Will visit a chemist in Edinburgh but probably just needs to acclimatise to lots of outdoor activity!

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Bike Around Britain

Blog on cycling around the coast of Britain

Tag Archives: castles

Leg 60 – to somewhere near Penbryn, via Aberystwyth

Leg 59 – to Porthmadog via Caernarfon and the Lleyn Peninsula

Leg 52 – to Annan

Leg 9 – to Berwick-upon-Tweed via Northumbria