A Tour of Scotland

Scotland is a wonderful extravaganza of wild and beautiful scenery.

Spittal of Glenshee

Mysterious dark  forests abound with red squirrels and deer. Green pastures are dotted with black faced sheep coated with luxurious warm fleeces. Hairy long horned, highland coos (cattle) graze the meadows. There are mile upon mile of bare moorlands.


The ubiquitous  mountains tower over all and sparkling burns rush and tumble from the heath covered hills and over the rocks, often cascading out in a wondrous white water display.So much water! So much beauty!

Wild flowers give a lovely show of colour all around the countryside. Bluebells, buttercups, iris, foxgloves, daisies and many others.When we left the heath was just coming into flower clothing the vast hills in a purple haze. Purple rhododendron bushes added to the display but are a menace, flourishing in the wild and overtaking the natural vegetation. Programs are in place for their eradication.

Our first nights were spent in the Lakes District, Cumbria, Northern England.We stayed at Ambleside YHA with 270 beds, overlooking Lake Windamere. Many hostels are in prime locations with delightful outlooks, historic buildings and many surrounding walk paths.

Ancient standing stones.

Ambleside Hostel

Macca found Rob, a friend from Tasmania in the hostel and I invited Alexis a Melbourne girl out to Coniston for some walking with us. In the evening, some young at heart, seasoned walkers entertained the multinational comfy sitting room full of travellers with an impromptu concert of piano accordion and singing. "You are my sunshine..." and many more old favourites.

    The Beatrix Potter museum was a delight for me with Peter Rabbit, Squirrel Nutkin, Mrs Tiggywinkle and all of their friends on display. The Japanese especially love them.

In no time we were into the swing of hostelling. Check in to the male and female dorms, store our food in the kitchen ready for cooking, make our beds and find the drying room for our laundry. For me it was ear plugs in if there were snorers. In the morning, strip the beds, enjoy breakfast and get out on the road.

Macca always walked before breakfast and after dinner. Sometimes I walked in the long evenings too but having walked 3 - 5 hours most days I preferred to socialize and download photos and catch up with emails.

All puffed up!

Most days we set out in the car and stopped frequently for photo opportunities and walks. From 5  minutes stroll  up to 6 hours tramp. Whatever seemed like a good thing at the time.

A big storm in the morning at Ambleside cleared and in the afternoon we loved the excessive gushing water roaring down from every slope and flooding the valleys. We climbed up Kirkstone pass, clinging to the hill in 80mph wind gusts.

Heading north east to the Southern Borders region we were piped over the Scottish border after staying at Bellingham in a converted barn with 2 bikies.

On past Jedburg's 12th C Augustinian  Abbey to stay at a stately old mansion in Melrose and to walk part of St Cuthberts way. What fantastic views over villages and farmlands and the 12th C Cistercian Monks Abbey. We copped a hail storm up at the top but were well dressed for it.

The Leaderfoot railway viaduct over the Tweed River was very impressive to see. It was operational from 1865 until 1965.

We drove out to Berwick on Tweed and St Abbs head. We walked around dramatic sheer cliffs and gullies looking out at the sea stacks and hearing the shrieking seabirds soaring in the updrafts and nesting in the cliffs.

Skirting around busy Edinburgh and continuing northwards past Stirling Castle, we stopped at Kenmore to look and listen to a traditional Scottish wedding with kilts and bagpipes.

We found our next accommodation near Aberfeldy at Fearnan on Loch Tay. A Buddhist and a commune in the making. Very interesting, cosy and comfortable with some stimulating conversation.
In this area, the Weem walk, the Birks of Aberfeldy and The Robert Burns Achran Falls walks were all gorgeous.

Robert Burns

On the way to Pitlochry we saw a bungy jumper leaping from Garry Bridge...not for me!  My favourite overall walk was here. Past lochs and burns and waterfalls, through woodlands and forest up the pass to Killiecrankie and circling around, up, up, up over the hills with a magnificent view back to Pitlochry. 5 hours and all just amazing weather and natural beauty.

Continuing north  to Braemar, we were in the high country now as we climbed the ridge at Spittal of Glenshee and saw a snow hare and a herd of about 60 wild deer. The ski lifts were idle for the summer.

Deer oh deer

We drove on in the warm sunshine to Aberdeen via Ballater, Banchory and Stonehaven with its ruins of  Drochit castle. It was a large and busy hostel that night.

Still in the high country we stayed at a tiny village called Tomintoul then onto Aviemore with its many outdoor equipment shops. Hiking boots and clothes are very much less expensive here in the UK. A pity I had no need of more and nor could I afford to accumulate more gear over in the Uk.

We climbed Mt Cairngorm above the snowline and coming down saw a ptarmagan with fluffy new chicks running about the mountain. The funicular carried people who weren't feeling like a huge climb up to the snug cafe at the top. It was 2 - 5 degrees C on the mountain that day.

Pitlochry from my window

On to Loch Ness, we missed seeing the wee monster, she was keeping a low profile that day.

At Drumnadrochit we had our first experience in an affiliated  "backpackers" hostel. We weren't too keen as they drank and partied until 3 am and helped themselves to our food. This was very unusual. It only happened in one other hostel, also labelled "backpackers" the other hostels were all either YHA or SYHA and were marvellous with helpful friendly wardens, quiet nights and with an interesting variety off fellow travellers and historic premises.

 We have seen a great many castles on our journey. It really reinforces the historic atmosphere of the country as do the many old homes and bridges.

Drochit Castle ruins.

We have also begun seeing seals now, basking on the rocks.

On we drove up the East Coast right to the top at John O' Groats.Very remote and with hardly any trees due to the strong cyclonic winds that blow so often. We took the ferry and a coach tour out to the Orkney Isles.. 

What an isolated community. Many people have lived there for generations and are very proud of their Norwegion  heritage. The islands are all green pastures and farms. Weird  to see no trees.  Approximately 20,000 residents farm and fish and work in the towns for a living. The sun sets at 12.30pm on the 21st June and rises at 3 am. Twilight in between means that there is no darkness.

We found this as we went "across the top" in mid June. There was no darkness at all just a lovely peaceful soft  blue light with a pink tinge. By contrast in mid winter they have barely 5 hours of daylight. The locals love to join in their many ceilidh sessions during this time.

We went on to Tongue and then Durness. A fantastic feeling of remoteness exists up along the North Coast. we watched many puffins flying in an out of their burrows as we roamed around the craggy cliff tops.

Turning the corner we began our journey down the dramatic west coast where huge craggy mountains rise straight up from the lochs up to 3,500ft.

Down on Skye we walked the Quiraing and the Old Man of Storr where parts of Harry Potter were filmed. The rock formations are spectacular and I was puffing quite a bit as I climbed up for the superb panoramic views along the top. We had taken fellow travellers from the hostel that day. Rouel from Holland and Viola from Germany. We lost them when they went to explore but they hitch hiked back into Portree afterwards.

Another ferry trip took us out to the Outer Hebrides. I was fascinated by the many remains of the olden day "Black houses" They were still lived in right up to the 1970's. Some have been restored into quaint holiday accommodation and 2 are hostels.

On South Uist I experienced my most rugged hostel yet. A shed with 6 rustic bunks and a simple kitchen in one room. I shared this with 5 men! One was cooking up a smelly lobster phewey! A peat fire kept us cosy in the evening. We saw great stacks of peat outside many homes and saw many patches of newly cut peat spread out to dry on the heath. It has its own distinctive smoke smell.

The last Hebridean night was spent at Lochmaddy where otters play outside the hostel we stayed at. I had met Bruce and Mary, first at the hostel, then out walking and afterwards at the local hotel where I went to listen to traditional Celtic music.

An old mill. Harris, Hebrides.

I had a delightful evening as Bruce and Mary drove me out to a hunting lodge to join them at a village "jam" session or ceilidh. It was fantastic. I sat in the circle with the very talented musicians. They had all just finished a 9 month traditional music course. Mary and Sophia sang...the whole noisy lodge fell silent when Sophia sang solo. It was a beautiful sound. The boys played fiddle, ukelele, banjo, bagpipes, flute and guitar. A happy evening.

South Uist, Outer Hebrides.

Next morning I said goodbye to Macca. Ours had not been a happy travelling partnership and I decided I was better to spend the last 10 days alone. The people over here in the UK are amazing...wonderful. It seems that as soon as I need a helping hand the guardian angels appear.

Ray and Diane were lined up at the ferry terminal. They offered to give me a lift down through Skye and across to Fort William. I enjoyed their company and they wouldn't leave me until they saw me booked into the hostel there. Thank you. Very much appreciated.

It was so lovely to be free again. Next morning...wow whoopee yoohoo! A phone message...Very Good friends from home in Manly were in nearby Oban. Oh how excellent.

I jumped on the bus. I had no contact number so emailed other friends trying to get their UK number. I checked at the ferry terminal for Mull.YES! they were booked next morning I could find them there. Meanwhile I rapidly walked and scanned the town of Oban. At about 6.30 pm THERE THEY WERE. walking towards me. They were amazed at how I found them.

"Old Friends"

We spent a lovely 3 days together on the isles of Mull and Iona. How lovely to be able to laugh and chat merrily and freely with friends. Jenny and Frank enjoyed living for two nights in the lap of luxury in a posh castle. They could sample as many varieties of scotch whisky as they pleased out there. I  was happy in the hostel at picturesque Tobermory.

Tobermory, Mull

Frank and Jenny were moving north so we exchanged farewell hugs and I jumped on a bus to Loch Lomond SYHA at Auchedennan House. What a beauty. A castle wowee it was gorgeous with a magnificent view across to Ben Lomond across the Loch. What a treat.

It was booked out the next night. Phil who was also staying in the castle overheard me telling the girls I was dining with about my struggle to carry my belongings without a car. Macca had the car. I had not set out ready to carry everything so my packs were now unsuitable. Phil came over and offered to give me a ride. He was going home to Northhampton. Great!

From my window. Ben Lomond
and Loch Lomond.

My Castle

A comfortable ride in his BMW took me to Carnforth where he helped carry my bags onto the station platform. A short train ride later and I was at the pretty seaside village of Arnside. Still a 2 mile struggle to carry my belongings uphill to the hostel.

Wait for it. A few wisecracks back and forth between me and a coach driver who was collecting guests from the train and I walked on struggling to carry everything. Next I heard a voice calling me back. He spoke quietly in my ear, telling to jump in the front of the bus and he would drop me at the corner near to the hostel.

Wonderful people the British

4 peaceful days to walk, socialize with the village people and fellow travellers, write my blog and then return to see Marie and family again and to enjoy a couple of weeks carer companion work again before the next cycling trip.

I think I am better off on the bike. at least I can peddle away on my own if needs be! Fast.

Jersey Girl.

50 years and 6 months ago at the end of  November 1960 the Gilbert family migrated on the Fairsea from Jersey, Channel Islands to Australia. We arrived at the Geelong migrant hostel in January 1961 but that journey is a story in itself to be told at a future date.

My return to my idyllic childhood home with my son Mick has been without any doubt, the highlight of my Uk trip. So exciting. Such a joy.

Mick and I met at Lime St Liverpool 

My memory has astounded me. From the first glimpse out of the aeroplane window at La Corbierre Lighthouse and St Ouens bay and the 5 mile road I have been jumping up and down with glee discovering childhood haunts.

Mick shared my delight with great interest in his family heritage.




A luxury for me to fly in and make ourselves at home for 4 nights in a hotel on Greve D'azette beach. We even used the jacuzzi and steam room one evening and we took full advantage of the buffet breakfast, skipping lunch and dining out at night.

The bus service was excellent. After settling our bags in our rooms in late afternoon we were off on the bus to St Aubin's Bay where we found a really pretty walk through the woods. Our cameras were already running hot as we wandered and climbed up to vantage points for panaramic views of the bay and nearby villages.

We met a couple at a bus stop and whilst chatting I found that the lady worked and lived in staff quarters at the nearby nursing home. Hmmm maybe next year I could do that.

Fantastic! We walked through the woods for miles.

We dined out at Murrays where they served delicious gluten free food. The atmosphere was lovely and the staff very friendly.

Next morning without a moment to lose, we took a bus in to St Helier and hired bicycles. Off we rode, first stop my old home at st Clement's rd. St Helier. Along familiar roads, past old friends and family's houses. I just knew where to go. Wow!

Although the Ritz Hotel on the corner of Columberie lane and our house and fruit shop which adjoined it were changed to modern apartments, the lane way where we played was still the same.

Howard Davis Park

Howard Davis park opposite was as delightful as I remembered. Mick just loved it. I found the fish pond where we played but the naked little boy statue which so fascinated us as youngsters was gone.

We went in search of my maternal grandmothers home and were delighted to find it still there on Beach Crescent in a long row of homes. The small shed where her husband George Hairon kept his pet monkey was still there.

I had no trouble finding my way around. I found that I still knew where everything was. The whole island is beyond my descriptive ability in its beauty and diversity. Of course the main town of st Helier and the roads and infrastructure are updated but the countryside, the farms and the beaches are largely unchanged.

Mick on the road to La Corbierre

We cycled along through groves of trees and flowers past quaint granite farmhouses and through picturesque farmland. Still plenty of herds of Jersey cows and large crops of Jersey royal potatoes. Neat granite walls dividing the fields, flowers everywhere. Narrow lanes but polite traffic.

Up hill with half flat tyres we arrived at Gerald Durrells famous wildlife conservation park. As children my older brother Richie and I cycled out with a little box strapped to his bike with surplus pets, golden hamsters, white mice or guinea pigs. Gerald Durrell happily took them from us and gave us a new mate for our pet at home if we wanted one. I now wonder if our pets provided snake fodder as the zoo grows much of its own food. We saw a grasshopper pen and were told of a dark cockroach breeding room...ugh!

Apart from a new glamourous entry the zoo had not changed much. It opened in 1959. We wandered through amongst the large natural enclosures enjoying seeing sleek well cared for exotic species of birds reptiles and animals. The Silverbacks Gorillas were marvellous to see as we listened to a commentary on them.

We continued riding on to the north east coast. We whizzed down glorious steep winding pathways to rocky coves and quaint harbours, starting with Rozel Bay. To me these are all magical names from an adventurous childhood.
On past La Coupe and then St Catherines breakwater, past ancient castles and defence towers. My brothers and I went to great lengths back in the 50's to climb up and peer in or even climb into one or two castles. My oldest brother Richie had us clamber up onto his shoulders with a rope to hook somewhere so we could all
climb into the narrow embrasures(windowslits).  I saw Green Island where I got stranded by the incoming tide as a small child until Dad rescued me.

Granite walls all over the island were covered in pretty flowers.

Mick and I cycled on up past Mont Orgeuil Castle, a landmark which is lit up at night .We then cruised down through winding cobbled lanes and villages and back to our hotel for dinner at 8pm. We were tired but delighted with our first full day of exploration and downloaded our many photos and recharged the batteries for next day.


Next morning we headed for the huge Jersey tidal swimming pool where I spent many happy hours as a "Curlew" in the JSC. Parts of it were looking very shabby and the diving boards were gone. Dad's brother and sister were champion acrobatic divers in their day and Auntie Jean won Bronze diving for Jersey at the 1956 Melbourne Olympic Games.

Along the Havre Des Pas beachfront we were thrilled to find Grandpa and Grandma Gilbert's Lavender Cottage looking immaculate. The only thing missing was the garden full of lavender. Now there was only a pot full amongst the paving. Down the back was " The Bungalow" which they had built and moved to after Grandpa's heart attack as he could no longer climb the stairs in the cottage.

Lavender Cottage 

It was Liberation Day in Jersey, a celebration of the day of freedom from the German occupation forces in World War II so we went to watch the festivities and procession of old classic cars and army tanks and other vehicles. Brass bands marched along followed by the Scottish bagpipers. It was a great atmosphere in the sunshine. Mick was glowing bright red and had to buy a hat.

We cycled around St Aubin's bay and on down to the south western point to La Corbierre Lighthouse. The gusty wind was was tossing the waves around to give us a wonderfully wild display. We watched some intrepid surfers pick there way over the rocks to launch themselves into the surf. Many a person has been cut off by the tide at La Corbierre when the pathway rapidly goes under water as the tide rages in. Jersey tides rise and fall up to 40 feet. A wild and wondrous part of Jersey.

La Corbierre Lighthouse

We dined at Murray's restaurant again. Almost regulars now, the staff greeted us as friends. "Murray, did I tell you that I spent my childhood in Jersey 50 years ago?" "No! " Mick retorted, " you must be the only person on the island that she hasn't told! " More chat and Murray learned a little of my varied life and travels. He is quite the star himself. Google him and you will see. Anyway, Murray arranged for me to come in the next day and be interviewed for BBC Radio Jersey. What a thrill!

Brave Blokes

On day 3 we hired a Smart Car. Places to go, things to see. We needed to cover the West and North coast. We drove along beside the fantastic flat 5 mile long beach of St Ouens.  For more than 60 years, this vast sandy beach has often played host to the spectacular sight of dozens of cars and motorcycles racing each other, and the tides. I watched them as a child. Jersey coastline has remained virtually unchanged for thousands of years.

The German underground hospital was an unsettling experience. A stark reminder that during World War II over 11000 Germans occupied Jersey. 1 in 4 to the local population. Hard times indeed. Dark cold tunnels were dug into the hillside by Russian, Polish, French and Spanish slave labour. A depressing hospital. As we moved through, 33 metres underground we shivered all the more as we read accounts of the times.


My fathers family were among more than  20,000 residents not born in Jersey who were given 24 hours notice to leave or be interned in Germany in the concentration camps. All boats were full and literally at the last hour, the Gilbert family of 10 were hidden amongst potatoes in a cargo boat bound for England.

Mick and I knew this but reading the personal accounts of the times and seeing the old photos with crowds flocking down to the harbours hoping to escape left us feeling quite emotional. It really made an impact on us as to how near Dad had been to the horror of German internment.

Mount Bingham  Defence

I also led Mick up to Mount Bingham where in my childhood, with my brothers and cousins we climbed hand over hand down iron rungs  into the World War II German underground bunkers  at the cliff top to explore the eerie dark tunnels and find the cannons pointing out through gun slits to sea. All blocked off now of course but we did find them. There are many relics of the German occupation still in Jersey.

Now blocked entrance to German underground tunnels.

On the north coast we visited Greve De Lecq where in the past, our families and friends spent many a warm Sunday swimming and relaxing. Yellow sand, clear water. We kids loved the rock pools with their vast array of seaweeds and creatures.


We went on to the Devil's Hole. A natural crater 200 ft deep and 100ft wide. The tide swirls and crashes around through the tunnel and into the hole at high tide. We walked around the protection barriers, I climbed up whilst Mick climbed down into the hole. We admired the stunning views of the hills of Les Reuses and used the telescope for a better view of the islands of Sark, Herm, Jettou, Brekkou and Guernsey. Alderney was out of sight.

Les Reuses

We were glad of our tiny hire car as we were almost squeezed by a bus on a narrow bend at Bonne Nuit Bay.

The day was running out so we cut back through the centre of the island to St Helier where we had a wander through the town centre and had dinner.

Next morning, one last drive along the beautiful sunny southern coastline to the airport.

What a special treat to return to my childhood home and to be able to share the excitement with my son. Mick is always a great travel companion. We had such fun. It was so special.

Now I need to discover enough wealth to take my girls and their families back to this French English paradise for a holiday.

In between my exploration of the Uk, I am fortunate to be able to return to continue as live in carer/companion for Marie at Lytham St Annes. Her delightful family are regular weekend visitors. It is a pleasure to be here.

Last Weekend I cycled up to Dunsop Bridge and Clitheroe to visit Ian and Alison, Pam's brother. It was an  interesting weekend. They took me walking and driving around some historic and beautiful areas. It is marvellous to be able to travel in this way, spending time with with local people and enjoying their company.

However I am off this weekend on a 5 week journey with my Tasmanian friend Macca. We are hiring a car and plan LOTS of walking in the Lakes District and Scotland. Luckily cousin Pam has just posted me her old waterproof WARM Barbour jacket. It is currently snowing in parts of Scotland.

Next blog update may not be until July.

Sunnyside Up

Well thanks to the support of many good people along the way, I always seem to finish sunnyside up!

It is a wonder the English haven't shipped me back to Australia by this time.


Back in St Neots, Harry and Pam took me and their Grandchildren on a couple of delightful outings to Anglesey Abbey and Houghtons Mill. We had a wonderful time roaming around beautiful gardens and buildings in perfect weather.



At Oxford

 I also spent a day looking at Oxford, another university University city.    

Anglesey Abbey



a barge going through the locks


 


Abi and James on the Great Ouse River.

After a week recovering from my accident in the care of Pam and Harry, I reassembled my Bike Friday and ventured forth once again to explore the spectacular Yorkshire Dales.

I took the train north to York where Tim another warmshowers host welcomed me. I left my trailer with him whilst I explored the city, steeped in history and partly surrounded by the ancient city wall which I walked all along.

I spent one and a half days exploring York and its surrounds at the junction of the rivers Ouse and Foss in North Yorkshire .

The Shambles, inner city and walking only allowed, were straight out of my school  medievil history books with tiny narrow cobbled lanes and overhanging second story buildings. I walked through the Minster. It was truly awe inspiring. I even looked through the Railway Museum. Train spotting is a big hobby here with such a variety of old trains running along the tracks as well as the modern versions.

I cycled out to a post office to collect my poste restante mail. Returning I was stopped in the bike space at traffic lights preparing to turn left when an ambulance came screaming up behind me. Startled, I realised that I needed to move left to give clearance and allow the ambulance through quickly.

I hastily dragged myself left trying simultaneously to uncleat my left foot. You guessed it. I crashed to the pavement in front of goggle eyed pedestrians. What is this woman doing? It didn't help my sore shoulder but mainly I just felt like a fool!

That evening Pam emailed me saying "by this time you will know you are without a phone". What on earth was she talking about? A quick search revealed my phone was gone. Tim rang my number to find an honest lady had picked it up where I had fallen. Doh! I have it again now.

Two nights were spent with Tim who was very friendly and hospitable and cooked me up some yummy scrummy risotto. He has also been hosted whilst cycle touring In Australia and New Zealand. Tim escorted me out of York ( don't laugh ) armed with directions for a scenic ride starting along the river bank.

 I  spent a half hour chatting to a train spotting couple on a railway bridge and I hopped inside their car to strip off a layer of clothing.

Sign on track says 200 miles to Edinburgh

Sue and Karen At Fountain Abbey

I had a lovely stop over at the 18th century Beningbrough Hall and Gardens. The weather was perfect, brilliant warm sunshine and cool air to ride in. 24 country miles later I was in Harrogate after my navigator led me on another great shortcut. Great except for the short rough stretch full of huge craters and the horse gate, designed for horses to step over. It is hard to jump a trailer and cycle but luckily, two willing young lads out jogging assisted me to lift the whole caboodle over and I continued on to be hosted by Dan and Karen.

Fountain Abbey

What a delightful stay I had with them. They were fun and Dan originally from the US was a great tease. They had been hosted whilst cycling in Spain. Dan and Karen felt I mustn't miss seeing Fountain Abbey so off we drove in the spring twilight out into the countryside, past a gypsy encampment, many fat bunnies playing happily and also many colourful pheasants running too quickly for me to photograph.

We walked over green hills to discover the ruins of a huge 11th century World Heritage listed Abbey towering up from the valley of the river Skell in an enchantingly beautiful natural and remote setting. In fact the river runs under the Abbey and the waterflow was used by the ingenious monks for flushing toilets and other things.

Skakespearean plays and musical evenings are conducted there. I would love to experience that magic atmosphere.

A great but late dinner, wine and time spent looking at my tomorrows ride with Dan passed the time very quickly. Next morning my heroes Dan and Karen loaded my trailer into their car. They had a  lunch date just past the MAJOR hill of my day. Yippee. Dan also escorted me from town along a very scenic route with directions to pass over the toll bridge complete with troll ( in reality a lovely little man)  and to continue along a bridle pathway.

Greenhow Hill

Greenhow Hill after Pateleys Bridge is exceedingly steep and long. Three sections are over 16%. Thank goodness I wasn't pulling the trailer. I still walked part of the sharp bits but it was all worth it when several separate cyclists saluted me as I cyled over the top to speed down into the delightful honey pot village of Grassington. I sat amongst wandering sheep and crowds of people and boiled up my billy, ate lunch and retrieved my trailer from Dan and Karen. I would love to see them again one day.

Uphill out of town , then another 10 miles easy riding along a spectacularly scenic small road lined with rock walls.  I was looking down on a sparkling beck that flowed through the valley and up to rock walls dividing fields of sheep. Lambs were gambolling around in the sunshine. I arrived at a pub where the patrons were sitting outside in the sun and was cheerfully directed around the corner to the Kettlewell YHA hostel in the Yorkshire Dales.

I spent a day tramping the stunningly beautiful hills and wandering around the picturesque village before cycling 15 miles on to Malham YHA. One extremely long steep hill to1500ft and  then down, down, down.

I  had to walk down one section as the weight of my trailer was too much for the small bike and my inexperience at dealing with such a rapid descent.
At the bottom Pete, the YHA Kettlewell landlord caught me up with my netbook computer!  What did I tell you? I think that concussion must have had lasting effects.

Malham was also absolutely gorgeous but riding out to Gordale scar, a huge limestone  gorge and waterfall plus on to Janet's Foss waterfall and then back to Malham then right up onto the moors to Malham Tarn was all steady climbing. I left the trailer at the hostel though.

The Tarn was interesting in that it is a Lake right at the top of the moors and also that Charles Darwin's house still stands in complete isolation looking across the tarn.  The moors are the high plains of the Yorkshire Dales. You've heard that old expression "up hill and down dale" It must have been invented in Yorkshire.

Another 15 miles up, up, up and then plummeting down past shaggy long haired cattle took me to Settle and Giggleswick, neighbouring villages.

I could manage one sharp climb only by separating bike and trailer and relaying them up the hill. Two concerned gentlemen stopped to check on me as I strained forward heaving my trailer up on foot. They wanted to take my trailer on ahead for me but I was coping and refused their offer. They later rushed up to me in the Settle marketplace to congratulate me on my huge effort.

In Giggleswick I stayed with Clive and Sarah, warm showers hosts again. The centre of their home was built in the 16th century. Additions were made over the years. Some walls were 3 feet thick. I stayed in a sloping roofed bedroom. I sat by the fireside for the house was very cold. However a cosy bed , hot shower and friendly company all made it an interesting 2 nights.
                                                                                                

Victorian Ribblehead Viaduct 1874
I cycled a 40 mile  loop out to Ingleton and on towards Hawes with lots of climbing. More fantastic scenery and little villages along the way. Glorious sunshine and cool air. Wow!

My first puncture was in my front tyre when I was just past Clapham. No problem to fix it. 20 miles further on just after I had boiled the billy for a cuppa, another flat! Glass. No more tubes with me, they were back in the trailer. I used the puncture repair kit. Not too hard. From here on home was all downhill. Yippee!

1/4 of a mile and bump, bump, bump, flat tyre again. grrrrrr. What to do. I knew it was useless but I removed the patch and tried another.  As soon as I peddled off it went flat. 8 miles to go and it was 5pm.

I started walking. I tried to flag down a few motorists but there was nowhere they could really stop and they ignored me. With flapping flat tyre I kept walking. Eventually, 3 miles on,  I found a small pub. I went in and discovered the publican was a man I had spoken to in Settle the previous day.

My luck was in yet again and Linda was just about to drive back to Giggleswick in her small car. I had to dismantle the BF down to bare bones but I managed to get all of the bits into her tiny boot, Hooray.

That night Clive got out his superior puncture kit. He cleaned and sanded, patched and glued 3 of my punctured tyres. I also had 2 more new ones so I should be set now....shouldn't I?

I had now had enough for the present of striving up hill and down dale no matter how wonderful the surrounds. I took the morning train west across to Morecambe Bay and then had a very pleasant 35 mile ride down to Blackpool to spend a relaxing night in a hotel for a well earned rest before cycling the last 10 miles back to Marie's to work again.

Oh yes there was one other problem!

 My Garmin led me astray again. Turning into an alley seemed like a good idea at first. As the alley doglegged for a mile or so vandalism and masses of smashed glass made me very uneasy. I thought I would soon be through to a main road again. Not so.

When I did eventually get to the end a massive gate barricaded me from the road. What to do? Going back was too frightening. It had been very isolated with smashed derelict buildings. What if I met the perpetrators?

I was rescued by a driver who had stopped outside the gate. At first he ignored my cry for assistance. I called again and over he came. An oldish ginger haired man with a cleft lip. A nice man.

There was a brick fence beside the gate. High but partly broken. Separating BF and trailer we were able to lift them high enough to get over the break in the wall. Thank you again.

Wonderful people the English.

Like I said, Sunny side up!

Calamity

Four  Days Cycling

Hugs and Goodbye to Marie. I will return to spend more time as her carer. We enjoyed ourselves.

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I travelled by train south to Shrewsbury in the heart of Shropshire. Charles Darwin was born in Shrewsbury and it has very many heritage listed houses including a lot of Tudor style buildings, distinctive by their black stripes on a white background. I spent a couple of hours cycling along the River Severn as it encircles the town. It was really beautiful as rowing teams paddled up past the white swans. Willow trees with their new greenery hung over the water and blossoms covered many trees and as always  there were masses of daffodils and a variety of  of other spring flowers.


The park was full of people out walking and pick-nicking in the warm sunshine. I brewed a cuppa and had some lunch, chatted to a few locals and peddled up the steep hill to the town centre.

I then cycled further south to the pretty village of All Stretton where I asked directions to the bunkhouse I was to stay in. It was up a winding gravel path and set on the base of the very steep hills. I checked in and found that I was sharing the quaint old converted barn with 8 mountain biking men. Smiles!

Whilst they were off on a late cycle I walked the hills. I soon joined up with Steve and his dog. Steve was also a mountain biker and was checking out the slopes for a riding trip. We climbed right up to the highest ridge where we had a superb view of hills and valleys for miles around.

The "Sweaty Helmets"  were a lovely group. They invited me to join them at the village pub for a drink and a meal. English pubs are wonderful cosy havens with golden lamplight and warm fires in cosy little rooms. Jim, the "Grand Helmet" due to his seniority presented an award for the most outstanding cyclist that day. The award was a pink furry pair of pigs ears and a curly wurly tail guaranteed to cling to the helmet at very high speeds.

Here is the bunkhouse....cosy isn't it?

There were men running around in towels as all were chivying each along to vacate the one shower.

A night at The Yew Tree Pub

Those blokes sure know how to cook up a good breakfast which they offered to share with me. Bacon and eggs, toast, tomatoes, sausages and mushrooms and black pudding. I ate my baked beans.

I rode off next morning and pffft, flat tyre... a thorn. I locked my trailer to a post and walked back to the bunkhouse where Peter helped me to change it. They had a better pump than me. John gave me 2 pieces of his special oats, orange juice and ginger cake to give me energy for the day.It was delicious, yum, wish I had the recipe

I am currently not quite such good friends with my Garmin. It decided that the A49 was not for me...a good decision ...BUT... instead it guided me up a verrry  long steeep hill. Dragging my trailer behind me. The last part of Lyth Hill was gravel. Admittedly I was treated to a birds eye view of green farmland with black faced sheep dotted about the hills.
My Garmin also tried to take me on an eleven mile loop later on to avoid 4 miles of the A49 which wasn't so busy anyway. That time I argued with my navigator and won!


The down hill was a delight however and the scenery as always on my country rides was delightful.


It was a long day to Hereford. A day of April showers and hail. I sheltered in the lee of a barn and brewed another hot drink and some lunch until the sun shone through again..I had a head wind but the quaint villages, flowers and trees in blossom everywhere made for an enjoyable day. I was dressed warmly. Thank goodness for my new thermal cycling pants and my leg warmers and my arm warmers and my thermals and my woolly hat and my goretex on the top! I had never worn so much to cycle in.


Arriving in Hereford at 4.30pm I had a wait until my warm showers hosts were due home at about 6pm. The shops were all closed being a Sunday so I cycled up hill to their house in hopes that they might arrive early.


No such luck...a phone call saying they actually wouldn't be home until around 8pm. They were parachuting from an old Russian biplane! Dan suggested I hang out at a warm pub nearby.  I was soaking wet and tired and grotty and didn't feel like a pub visit before a shower. I found a bucket and a tap in their yard, a cloth from my bag and proceeded to clean my mud covered bike and trailer and to clean and oil the chain. All of this in the cold evening with the rain still falling on me. Finally, thoroughly chilled, I decided I had better go to the pub.


I asked directions along the way and ended up instead sipping 2 hot cuppas whilst snuggled up to Barbaras fireplace having a lovely chat. All's well that end's well. Rosy cheeked and warm I walked back to Dan and Jens' home.


Dan and Jen soon were in my good graces by serving me up a delicious baked dinner and helping me with directions for the following days ride. They were good company and made me very welcome. It is always a relief to be part of a real family, including any ups and downs, at the end of a days ride instead of twiddling my thumbs in some guest house room alone. Dan also adjusted my gears for me as they had been slipping.


Next day was cold but dry, hooray! I rode to Gloucester and took the train to Chepstow. This was Dan's good plan to save me riding up at least half a dozen seriously steep and long hills. I just didn't have it in me to pull the trailer up them. It would also have meant cycling 115 kms or 72 miles mostly big hills. Am I getting old weak and feeble or what?


Getting off the train an elderly man assisted me to carry the trailer up the steps across the railway track. I was concerned that it would be too heavy for him. A nice man except for the fact that  he followed me for a while trying to convince me that I should get to know his friend Jesus. In haste I mounted my cycle and rode off, too late to turn back I was ascending yet another long steep hill. Every time I came to a crest it continued on. I missed looking through the castle because I wasn't going to ride down and up again.

The long descent to the Severn River 3 mile long suspension bridge was fabulous. It was absolutely awesome cycling over such a long bridge feeling it move as the traffic crossed.

My new warm showers host Jon came out to show me the way to their historic 250 year old house. What a treat to stay there. I had a snug and cosy room. Jon was a bike mechanic and replaced a missing screw for me. Pandora a woodwork teacher was delightful and they were looking a little like "The Good Life". We adjourned to the local pub for a friendly evening. Even dogs are welcome when their owners pop in for a quick pint whilst out walking. Another warm experience.


Jon worked out the best route for the day and it was working well until nearing Bristol I crashed.


I was mounting a low kerb to escape two large trucks. I made the mistake of approaching it with my wheels parrallel and it was a bit wet. The bike flicked sideways and I went down hard. My head and left shoulder took such a bang. I didn't move for a while! Then I rolled onto my front, head on my arms and two men approached to help me up. "are you alright?" they asked. I said yes but in reality I was stunned. I wandered on walking for a short way then mounted my BF rode a few yards and pffft another puncture.


It was so hard changing that tyre and pumping it up with my little hand pump, my headache and my very painful shoulder.I walked to a garage to get more air but although I put my 60p in I couldn't get air. Then I found a shop which had a pump.They pumped my tyre for me.


A short way down the road and it went flat again. The valve blew out this time. I now have a new back tyre!
I was so distressed. I prepared for another tyre change. I asked passers by if the train was close by. It wasn't.


Another man approached. A council garden truck had noticed my distress. They threw everything in the back of the truck and drove me to the station. They loaded me, my bike and trailer onto the train from Templemead, spoke to the guard who was very helpful and with a helper carried everything whilst I changed trains for Bath. Same again at the end and Lewis my new "warmshowers" host met me, took all of my belongings home and put me on the bus to the hospital. I was in pain. Xrays showed no breaks. I had a classic rugby injury of shoulder ligaments that had taken a severe bang. 


Unfortunately I lost my 2 week job that I had ridden four days to get to. I wasn't capable of turning up. I also vomited 3 times over the next three days and hurt in many places. I felt really ill.

Lewis was absolutely fantastic. He helped me in every way he could. He twice went to the bike shop for tyres and tubes. He carried all of my gear home and back over a half hour walk to the train when I left. He walked to the hospital to bring me home. I was useless and so disappointed. Emma is a gorgeous girl. They are a young Sydney couple working in England. I stayed with them in the Marlborough Buildings opposite The Royal Crescent in historic Bath. It was a beautiful place. I stayed one day and did a guided walk tour.

The Avon River at Bath

Next Harry and Pam came to the rescue. They came into London to help me change from above ground to underground and back then out to St Neots. Meanwhile I had three willing young lads carrying my belongings on and off the first train. Harry and Pam took over from there and again I was concerned at the effort they were making on my behalf.

I am now recuperating at  Pam and Harry's. Well looked after and soon to be feeling lively again.


What a bother I was to so many but how wonderful were they. It goes beyond thanks. I the lady of many words cannot find enough to express my gratitude to them all.