Leven to Dundee and Broughty Ferry 58 miles
Golf course path
Lovely breakfast with kippers again and then set off along the golf course sometimes riding, sometimes pushing my bike along a path. When faced with route inland to the main road decided to take a chance and stick to the beach as I could see Lower Largo ahead.
The photo shows me cycling but in all honesty the sand was too soft and so I had a pleasant walk but a struggle up the sandunes at the other end. The photo was taken by a chap who lives at Lower Largo but walks along the beach most days into Leven to do his shopping with a rucksack on his back. Like me he can't understand why people drive everywhere.
The photo shows me cycling but in all honesty the sand was too soft and so I had a pleasant walk but a struggle up the sandunes at the other end. The photo was taken by a chap who lives at Lower Largo but walks along the beach most days into Leven to do his shopping with a rucksack on his back. Like me he can't understand why people drive everywhere.
Eventually got back to the main road at 10am cycled through Lower and Upper Largo and then set off towards Crail. A good road with enough ups and downs to make it interesting. Enroute I visited Earlsferry and Elie,
St Monans, Pittenween, Anstruther and Cellardyke. Each of them was very different and they were all very appealing in their own way. Earlsferry and Elie were surrounded by golf links the former being so named because of a ferry service set up by the Earls Of Fife to take pilgrims to visit the shrine of St Andrew. St Monans was very pretty with a beautiful church overlooking the sea, while Pittenween was still a working fishing port with a large fish market. A retired fisherman sitting on a bench outside his house told me that all the boats were now prawn fishing. They go out at dusk each evening as they catch the best prawns during the hours of darkness. The catching of white fish in this area is all but dead.
Anstruther was full of yachts and other pleasure craft and like so many similar fishing ports commercial fishing died when the herring disappeared. Before the war you could apparently walk across the harbour from boat to boat.
Cellardyke was at one time the second most important fishing port in Scotland-herring again-with over 200 boats but when at the end of the 19th century the harbour was badly damaged all the boats moved to Anstruther. The harbour was a beautiful place reached along narrow streets from Anstruther. Now the quay seems mostly used for drying the washing. Well worth a visit.
St Monans, Pittenween, Anstruther and Cellardyke. Each of them was very different and they were all very appealing in their own way. Earlsferry and Elie were surrounded by golf links the former being so named because of a ferry service set up by the Earls Of Fife to take pilgrims to visit the shrine of St Andrew. St Monans was very pretty with a beautiful church overlooking the sea, while Pittenween was still a working fishing port with a large fish market. A retired fisherman sitting on a bench outside his house told me that all the boats were now prawn fishing. They go out at dusk each evening as they catch the best prawns during the hours of darkness. The catching of white fish in this area is all but dead.
Anstruther was full of yachts and other pleasure craft and like so many similar fishing ports commercial fishing died when the herring disappeared. Before the war you could apparently walk across the harbour from boat to boat.
Cellardyke was at one time the second most important fishing port in Scotland-herring again-with over 200 boats but when at the end of the 19th century the harbour was badly damaged all the boats moved to Anstruther. The harbour was a beautiful place reached along narrow streets from Anstruther. Now the quay seems mostly used for drying the washing. Well worth a visit.
Once you reached Crail you were back in golfing country. I stopped at the fruit shop-you sometimes get fed up with cakes and crave a bit of fresh fruit- and then set off down the dead straight road out to Fife Ness. On the way out you cycle through HMS Jackdaw a now deserted Naval Airbase. Planes from here bombed the Turpitz in 1944 but the base is now mostly used as a racetrack. At the end of the road you come to Balcomie Links and some magnificent views across St Andrews Bay. It must have been ladies day and the clubhouse was being rebuilt and so all the facilities were in temporary huts. I bet it was windy out here in the winter-a few lost balls I would think. As you can see from the flags I had was into the wind on the way back to Crail.
Next along the A917, through Kingsbarns and Boarhills and then into St Andrews. I've looked forward to seeing St Andrews and often wished I'd gone to university here. The town was really full of life. Students in all the cooffee houses and golfers everywhere. Would have loved to have stayed in the town to sample the evening life and some of the real ales that the pubs were advertising. Paid a visit to the tourist office and it was soon clear that there were few vacancies and those available cost a fortune. I suppose St Andrews is very much like a Scottish Oxford or Cambridge. Cycled down to the castle and past the department of moral philosophy and out to the famous home of golf. Had seen it on TV so often and it was good to see it in real life.
From St Andrews I picked up a very good cycleway that took me alongside the Leuchars airfield and on into Tayport. I stopped to take a photo through the fence at Leuchars and thought that in certain parts of the world I would be arrested as a spy. The most interesting part of the day was yet to come as I approached the Tay Bridge. Always get excited about the big bridges.
The first surprise was that the cycle path was down the middle of the bridge with traffic on either side of you. Second was that from south to north the bridge is all down hill rather than a hump in the middle and the third is at the north end. As you approach it looks like a dead end but in fact you come to metal doors which are the entrance to a lift that takes you off the bridge. You are taken down to a kind od glass room and then you press a button and the door swings open and lets you out. Brilliant.
The first surprise was that the cycle path was down the middle of the bridge with traffic on either side of you. Second was that from south to north the bridge is all down hill rather than a hump in the middle and the third is at the north end. As you approach it looks like a dead end but in fact you come to metal doors which are the entrance to a lift that takes you off the bridge. You are taken down to a kind od glass room and then you press a button and the door swings open and lets you out. Brilliant.
Between St Andrews and Tayport alison had phoned to say she had found me a B&B in Broughty Ferry-never heard of it. Anyway when I got down to ground level off the bridge I pressed the button to let me out and there in front of me was a cycle route sign saying Broughty Ferry-never even had to look at the map. I set off along it and after a mile or so I was going through the docks area when I came up against a seemingly locked high metal gate. How stupid to have signs taking you to a dead end. I thought about turning round but as I was about to the gate automatically swung open and let me through-another mile and another gate did the same to let me out of the docks except this time you did have to press a button. From here it was a lovely traffic free ride into the town of Broughty Ferry.
Had been told to cycle along the main street and then left up a very steep hill which I did, only to find it was the wrong steep hill and so I had to come down and cycle up another steep hill- I was knackered by the time I found Invergarth- a very good B&B. Just down the road was a pub called the Kittiwake where I had a lovely beef and ale pie and a pint of Timothy Taylor's Landlord followed by a pint of Doombar from Cornwall.
Had been told to cycle along the main street and then left up a very steep hill which I did, only to find it was the wrong steep hill and so I had to come down and cycle up another steep hill- I was knackered by the time I found Invergarth- a very good B&B. Just down the road was a pub called the Kittiwake where I had a lovely beef and ale pie and a pint of Timothy Taylor's Landlord followed by a pint of Doombar from Cornwall.
Day 27: (22nd May) Broughty Ferry to Montrose 40miles
Porridge, kippers, toast and honey. The honey made by the bees flying past the dining room window. My host even gave me a small jar of honey to take with me, this was very useful when my run of hostels came along. Recently, when his son had got married, all the wedding guests had been given a jar to take home instead of wedding cake-much more useful.
After breakfast I cycled down into town and around the harbour. Broughty Castle guards the entrance to the Tay and it reminded me very much of St Mawes Castle at the mouth of the Fal at home. Didn't know where I was going to end up today but looking at the map Montrose seemed the best bet as after that there was quite a gap to any population centres where there might be accomodation. Montrose wasn't that far so I was not in a hurry.
From here a beutiful tarmac cycle path took me through some army ranges and onto Carnoustie golf course. The strong wind was behind me and the route was totally flat, I really didn't have to pedal for miles. I stopped and had a chat with some golfers and at that point Alison phoned so I told them their putts where being described live to Cornwall.
A lady with her dog took my photo.
After breakfast I cycled down into town and around the harbour. Broughty Castle guards the entrance to the Tay and it reminded me very much of St Mawes Castle at the mouth of the Fal at home. Didn't know where I was going to end up today but looking at the map Montrose seemed the best bet as after that there was quite a gap to any population centres where there might be accomodation. Montrose wasn't that far so I was not in a hurry.
From here a beutiful tarmac cycle path took me through some army ranges and onto Carnoustie golf course. The strong wind was behind me and the route was totally flat, I really didn't have to pedal for miles. I stopped and had a chat with some golfers and at that point Alison phoned so I told them their putts where being described live to Cornwall.
A lady with her dog took my photo.
Stopped in Carnoustie at OCs Deli for coffee and a pancake and then had a little walk around. A world famous golfcourse but nowhere near as big and busy as St Andrews-having a university makes all the difference. Cycled along the seafront and then minor roads to East Haven. The A92 then had a cycle path alongside it that took me all the way into Arbroath.
The town was packed and I guessed they were not all there to welcome me. It turned out that 45 Commando had just returned from Afghanistan and they are based here.The whole town had turned out and the roads were lined both sides. I went up to the abbey and this was where the parade ended and various officers and soldiers were being interviewed by television and radio. As I left the town later. the soldiers were all waiting for their transport down by the sea and having tea and burgers from a snackvan. Don't know it was just the snackvan owners lucky day or it had all been planned. Stopped and had a chat with one soldier who it turned out was from Devon.
The other thing that sticks in my mind was the number of kipper shops that were still there trying to entice visitors in to see how it was done. I liked Arbroath.
The town was packed and I guessed they were not all there to welcome me. It turned out that 45 Commando had just returned from Afghanistan and they are based here.The whole town had turned out and the roads were lined both sides. I went up to the abbey and this was where the parade ended and various officers and soldiers were being interviewed by television and radio. As I left the town later. the soldiers were all waiting for their transport down by the sea and having tea and burgers from a snackvan. Don't know it was just the snackvan owners lucky day or it had all been planned. Stopped and had a chat with one soldier who it turned out was from Devon.
The other thing that sticks in my mind was the number of kipper shops that were still there trying to entice visitors in to see how it was done. I liked Arbroath.
From Arbroath cycle routes took me down to Lunan Bay which was beautiful and, I was told, is packed in the summer. At the end of the lane down to the beach there is a small shop. I stopped for an ice cream and met Cara
a black Alsation originally a stray but now who loved licking out ice cream tubs so I duly obliged. From her it was up a long hill and then down Usan and Ferrydean before approaching the bridge across the Montrose Basin and into the town. Only a smallish bridge this time but very nice all the same. On the other side of the bridge I met my second dog-Bamse- and he had a real story to tell.
a black Alsation originally a stray but now who loved licking out ice cream tubs so I duly obliged. From her it was up a long hill and then down Usan and Ferrydean before approaching the bridge across the Montrose Basin and into the town. Only a smallish bridge this time but very nice all the same. On the other side of the bridge I met my second dog-Bamse- and he had a real story to tell.
The story of Bamse is a lovely wartime tearjerker. He belonged to the Hafto family in Norway and when Capt. Hafto was stationed in Montrose and Dundee on a minesweeper Bamse came with him as a registered crew member. Even before the war Bamse had shown his loyalty by guarding the bedside of Capt. Hafto's sick child for 12 days and nights.
In the war Bamse, during action, would stand guard in the forward gun turret wearing his own metal helmet until the action was over. He saved a young lieutenant from a knife attacker by pushing his assailant into the sea and dragged ashore another sailor who had fallen overboard. He would also round up the sailors from the local pubs when it was time to return to the ship and would break up fights by putting his paws on their shoulders.
He died at the age of seven on the dockside in Montrose and his funeral was attended by hundreds. In 2006 he was awarded the PDSA Gold Medal(animal's George Cross) www.bamsemontrose.co.uk for more of this story.
In the war Bamse, during action, would stand guard in the forward gun turret wearing his own metal helmet until the action was over. He saved a young lieutenant from a knife attacker by pushing his assailant into the sea and dragged ashore another sailor who had fallen overboard. He would also round up the sailors from the local pubs when it was time to return to the ship and would break up fights by putting his paws on their shoulders.
He died at the age of seven on the dockside in Montrose and his funeral was attended by hundreds. In 2006 he was awarded the PDSA Gold Medal(animal's George Cross) www.bamsemontrose.co.uk for more of this story.
After cycling around Montrose several times looking for the B&B Alison had found me, I quickly had a shower and wandered into town. Had a bit of luck, when down a side street I came across The George Hotel that had a cask mark on the wall. When I went in there was only one other customer and I thought at first it wasn't very promising. However quite soon he was joined by a group of real ale drinkers who meet here every Friday and have been doing so for 25 years apparently.
Had a long chat with John Bullock who works in the oil industry and on the following day was off to watch the Heinekin Cup Final at Murrayfield. John is a "Munro Bagger" and has climbed them all, many several times I think.The whole group were a really friendly bunch so if one day you find yourself in Montrose on a Friday night head for the George. I was very disciplined as it would have been very easy to have a "session" with them. As it was I broke my 2 pints rule but then bade them farewell and went off to the chippy. It was a nice change from people watching on my own.Thanks John and friends for a lovely evening, I may turn up again one Friday night.
I asked if there were any other real ale pubs in Montrose and was told that there is one where the beer is very good but at weekends you have to keep dodging the furniture!
The great thing about this trip was not knowing what was around the corner and just getting to places you heard the name of many times but had never seen. Every time I watch the news or even listen to something like the football results I can't help picturing the places-it's changed my whole knowledge and outlook of Britain. Of course the bad experiences just added to the story.
P.S. An hour after I wrote the piece above about Bamse, my wife came home from the library and said she'd found a book I might like. "Sea Dog Bamse- World War 2 Canine Hero" by Andrew Orr and Angus Whitson, published a year ago. If you are an animal lover it's worth getting hold of-it also gives a good insight into life in wartime Scotland.
Had a long chat with John Bullock who works in the oil industry and on the following day was off to watch the Heinekin Cup Final at Murrayfield. John is a "Munro Bagger" and has climbed them all, many several times I think.The whole group were a really friendly bunch so if one day you find yourself in Montrose on a Friday night head for the George. I was very disciplined as it would have been very easy to have a "session" with them. As it was I broke my 2 pints rule but then bade them farewell and went off to the chippy. It was a nice change from people watching on my own.Thanks John and friends for a lovely evening, I may turn up again one Friday night.
I asked if there were any other real ale pubs in Montrose and was told that there is one where the beer is very good but at weekends you have to keep dodging the furniture!
The great thing about this trip was not knowing what was around the corner and just getting to places you heard the name of many times but had never seen. Every time I watch the news or even listen to something like the football results I can't help picturing the places-it's changed my whole knowledge and outlook of Britain. Of course the bad experiences just added to the story.
P.S. An hour after I wrote the piece above about Bamse, my wife came home from the library and said she'd found a book I might like. "Sea Dog Bamse- World War 2 Canine Hero" by Andrew Orr and Angus Whitson, published a year ago. If you are an animal lover it's worth getting hold of-it also gives a good insight into life in wartime Scotland.
Day 28: Montrose to Aberdeen and The Bridge of Don 55miles
Today was to be the day of the silent B&B but there was lots to be seen first. Picked up Route 1 out of Montrose through resedential areas and alongside yet another golf course. Turned off down to St Cyrus beach and nature reserve. Just before you get there you come across a kind of Steptoe's yard that spreads across several fields surrounding a bungalow. There seems to be everything you can think of which I presume is for sale, Old cars to garden tools, should be a mess but had a kind of modern art feeling-perhaps it was an art installation. Just wish I'd taken a photo.
At St Cyrus there is an information centre, unfortunately closed, about the nature and history of the area and then a long curved beach behind the sandunes. Salmon fishing using fixed nets is still carried out and the nets were hanging up to dry.
At St Cyrus there is an information centre, unfortunately closed, about the nature and history of the area and then a long curved beach behind the sandunes. Salmon fishing using fixed nets is still carried out and the nets were hanging up to dry.
From St Cyrus there was a long steep hill that zig zagged back to the A92 and then it was passed Johnshaven and Gourdon to Inverbervie where I made my first refreshment stop of the day. In the cafe I had coffee and a butter-I think that's what it was called. It looked tasty but was really just a slab of rich pastry-much too fatty for me-there's certainly a lot of fat and calories in the diet up here.
Inverbervie is the birthplace of Hercules Linton the designer of the Cutty Sark and he lived in a house in the market square next to the cafe I stopped in-full of education this story.
Just after Inverbervie turned on to narrow country lanes and down to Catterline where I left the cycle route to go write into the village. Found a bench overlooking the harbour and sat for a while. Behind me was a lovely looking pub called The Creel and to my right I could see Todhead Lighthouse. Lovely piece of coastline and you can find out more on any of these places, including lots of photos on Undiscovered Scotland. Everytime I phoned home Alison would look up these pages and often see exactly where I was sitting. It was so warm on the bench it was tempting to stay and see if the pub did accomodation but thought I'd better get on.
Inverbervie is the birthplace of Hercules Linton the designer of the Cutty Sark and he lived in a house in the market square next to the cafe I stopped in-full of education this story.
Just after Inverbervie turned on to narrow country lanes and down to Catterline where I left the cycle route to go write into the village. Found a bench overlooking the harbour and sat for a while. Behind me was a lovely looking pub called The Creel and to my right I could see Todhead Lighthouse. Lovely piece of coastline and you can find out more on any of these places, including lots of photos on Undiscovered Scotland. Everytime I phoned home Alison would look up these pages and often see exactly where I was sitting. It was so warm on the bench it was tempting to stay and see if the pub did accomodation but thought I'd better get on.
Next it was past Crawton and onto a minor road loop that took me to Dunnattor Castle. This was a very imposing ruin and on this Saturday morning was quite busy with visitors. It must be on the American tourists places to visit list and two of them took a photo of me and I also took one without me in it. This really is an interesting place-there's a good section on Undiscovered Scotland. It was the last place in Scotland to hold out against Cromwell and that was only after an 8 month siege.
After my history stop itv was down the hill to Stonehaven where there is a bit of subsidence on the road with only one lane open, don't know if it can be repaired or whether it's terminal as there was very little holding it up. Stonehaven had a large market square that always gives a town a sense of community. Had a quick stop here for a cup of tea and a roll which I ate sitting in the square people watching. Once you leave Stonehaven the cycle route takes you inland on the B979 but I wanted to stick to the coast so stayed on the A90 which was by now a dual carriageway into Aberdeen.
At Portlethen I turned off onto minor roads and then headed for the sea to find the port but there wasn't one it just came to a dead end. Talked to a local who confirmed that Portlethen isn't a port but years ago boats just pulled up on the shingle beach. Haddock smoking was the main industry and Findhorn on the map is derived from a Scottish word meaning smoked.
Next it was around to Cove Bay and then eventually you go around Nigg Bay and you come to the huge lighthouse that guards the entrance to Aberdeen Harbour. The cycle route goes past the golfcourse and harbour area and brings you right to the Shetland Ferry Terminal, handy to know for a possible trip to Shetland one day. Then up into the Granite City and out to Bridge of Don where I stayed in the silent B&B-tell you why tomorrow.
A fantastic pub nearby did an all you can eat roast carvery for £3.50 It's amazing how much people try to balance on their plates and then they leave half of it. I ate all mine and had treacle sponge and custard afterwards. I find eating and drinking after cycling all day a real pleasure and I was getting used to sitting on my own people watching.
At Portlethen I turned off onto minor roads and then headed for the sea to find the port but there wasn't one it just came to a dead end. Talked to a local who confirmed that Portlethen isn't a port but years ago boats just pulled up on the shingle beach. Haddock smoking was the main industry and Findhorn on the map is derived from a Scottish word meaning smoked.
Next it was around to Cove Bay and then eventually you go around Nigg Bay and you come to the huge lighthouse that guards the entrance to Aberdeen Harbour. The cycle route goes past the golfcourse and harbour area and brings you right to the Shetland Ferry Terminal, handy to know for a possible trip to Shetland one day. Then up into the Granite City and out to Bridge of Don where I stayed in the silent B&B-tell you why tomorrow.
A fantastic pub nearby did an all you can eat roast carvery for £3.50 It's amazing how much people try to balance on their plates and then they leave half of it. I ate all mine and had treacle sponge and custard afterwards. I find eating and drinking after cycling all day a real pleasure and I was getting used to sitting on my own people watching.
Day 29: Aberdeen(Bridge of Don) to Rattray Lighthouse 48miles
When I arrived at my B&B last night the owner opened the door and was very surprised that I had bike eventhough my wife had booked it and told them what I was doing.
"Don't know what we're going to do with that, you'll have to put in the back garden, haven't got anywhere under cover to put it."
I pushed my bike around the back and was faced with several greenhouses and sheds. Never mind at least it wasn't overlooked so I just left it leaning against the house wall. Went back in, was shown to a very nice room and then went down the pub without seeing my hosts again. Came back, went to bed, no sign of anyone.
Next morning went down for breakfast and sat down in the empty dining room. Everything was silent. The man came in and asked about my preferences and I tried to start up a conversation but no joy. He left and I was on my own. Not a sound from the kitchen, couldn't even hear them talking. He came back and put my cooked food down and immediately left. I finished and sat there, no talking, no radio, nobody asking if I needed anything.
Eventually I got bored waiting and called out for a pen to write a cheque, he walked in put the pen down and walked out. I filled out the cheque and waited but no one came back so I went upstairs to pack. As I came down he was waiting at the bottom of the stairs and opened the front door for me. I went out and he immediately closed the front door behind me, leaving me standing on the steps holding my panniers.
My bike of course was around the back so I had to go and get it. As I walked past the lounge window I looked in and Mr and Mrs Happy were both sitting holding newspapers in front of their faces, they never even looked up as I opened the side gate. Got my bike loaded up in the front garden and went-how strange! That's why I called it the silent B&B. It was a quiet Sunday morning and I felt lonely all of a sudden but luckily today was to be a good day to cheer me up.
After getting lost I found the B997 and then the B999 to Potterton, where there was a lovely looking 3* B&B as I entered the village. Stuck to the minor lanes to Belhavie and then across the A90 to Balmedie. Nothing open here so along the A90 and a right turn on to the A975 to Newburgh which is thought to be the birthplace of whiskey production in Scotland. I saw a whole group of cyclists and thought I might soon come across a cyclists cafe but I never did.
At the far end of Newburgh you come to the Forvie Nature Reserve which covers one of the largest sand dune systems in Britain. The dunes formed 2000years ago and spread until 1700. There are the remains of thousands of years habitation buried under the sand. Each winter over 20,000 geese winter here and turns travel 20,000 miles to breed.
"Don't know what we're going to do with that, you'll have to put in the back garden, haven't got anywhere under cover to put it."
I pushed my bike around the back and was faced with several greenhouses and sheds. Never mind at least it wasn't overlooked so I just left it leaning against the house wall. Went back in, was shown to a very nice room and then went down the pub without seeing my hosts again. Came back, went to bed, no sign of anyone.
Next morning went down for breakfast and sat down in the empty dining room. Everything was silent. The man came in and asked about my preferences and I tried to start up a conversation but no joy. He left and I was on my own. Not a sound from the kitchen, couldn't even hear them talking. He came back and put my cooked food down and immediately left. I finished and sat there, no talking, no radio, nobody asking if I needed anything.
Eventually I got bored waiting and called out for a pen to write a cheque, he walked in put the pen down and walked out. I filled out the cheque and waited but no one came back so I went upstairs to pack. As I came down he was waiting at the bottom of the stairs and opened the front door for me. I went out and he immediately closed the front door behind me, leaving me standing on the steps holding my panniers.
My bike of course was around the back so I had to go and get it. As I walked past the lounge window I looked in and Mr and Mrs Happy were both sitting holding newspapers in front of their faces, they never even looked up as I opened the side gate. Got my bike loaded up in the front garden and went-how strange! That's why I called it the silent B&B. It was a quiet Sunday morning and I felt lonely all of a sudden but luckily today was to be a good day to cheer me up.
After getting lost I found the B997 and then the B999 to Potterton, where there was a lovely looking 3* B&B as I entered the village. Stuck to the minor lanes to Belhavie and then across the A90 to Balmedie. Nothing open here so along the A90 and a right turn on to the A975 to Newburgh which is thought to be the birthplace of whiskey production in Scotland. I saw a whole group of cyclists and thought I might soon come across a cyclists cafe but I never did.
At the far end of Newburgh you come to the Forvie Nature Reserve which covers one of the largest sand dune systems in Britain. The dunes formed 2000years ago and spread until 1700. There are the remains of thousands of years habitation buried under the sand. Each winter over 20,000 geese winter here and turns travel 20,000 miles to breed.
Six miles further on and you come to Cruden Bay. No cafe still but a small shop for a Scotch Pie and bar of chocolate. I sat on a bench by the side of the river. A white wooden bridge takes you across to the lovely beach and golf course. Lots of salmon nets hanging up to dry. At the mouth of the river is a small harbour called Port Errol after the Earl of Errol, who built it. This was a beautiful and peaceful spot.
Not long after Cruden Bay I saw a small car park to my right and an information sign. I went in and found the fascinating story of the Bullers of Buchan. This is a small inlet where fisherman used to pull boats up on the tiny pebble beach and then carry their catch to the top of the cliffs. A few yards to the left is a collapsed sea cave called the Sea Cauldron as in rough weather the sea rushes in through the surviving arch and causes a maelstrom. When you come across places like this and see how people survived it makes you realise how lucky we are.
These little stop offs were brilliant and there must be hundreds that I missed. The countryside around here was flat and today it was windy. The fields were very sandy and dry so different to the green lushness of home.
Soon it was on to Boddam which is the most easterly point on mainland Scotland. A small harbour with a few fishing boats and a lighthouse to the south. Looking north you could see Peterhead. As you came into Peterhead there was a good cycleway around the back of the harbour. The inner harbour was enormous and being used by a lot of pleasure craft.
The town centre was smaller than I expected and as it was Sunday very quiet. Found a Morrisons and stocked up for my stay at Rattray Lighthouse. Soon after leaving Peterhead I went past the huge gas terminal at St Fergus before finding the right turn that took me miles out into the sandunes.
Soon it was on to Boddam which is the most easterly point on mainland Scotland. A small harbour with a few fishing boats and a lighthouse to the south. Looking north you could see Peterhead. As you came into Peterhead there was a good cycleway around the back of the harbour. The inner harbour was enormous and being used by a lot of pleasure craft.
The town centre was smaller than I expected and as it was Sunday very quiet. Found a Morrisons and stocked up for my stay at Rattray Lighthouse. Soon after leaving Peterhead I went past the huge gas terminal at St Fergus before finding the right turn that took me miles out into the sandunes.
A flat winding road soon becomes a rough track. As the lighthouse buildings came into sight I passed a large group of ramblers and then loose sand meant I had to push for a bit. This really is a peaceful out of the way place but I bet it's wild in the winter.The actual lighthouse is 50yds off the beach with the buildings inland behind huge dunes which stretch for miles. The dunes are full of wartime defences.
Val and Richard have been here for 8 years and came to escape the rat race. They have self catering, B&B and a bunkhouse with good facilities. You have to like being in the middle of nowhere but it is a wonderful place to stay for cyclists, nature lovers and those that want peace and quiet. A dog heaven and they have two lovely dogs of their own.
I was the only one in the bunkhouse but it is full of books and magazines to read and I borrowed some binoculars and went for a walk down to the beach. You can walk along the beach for miles to St Combs but it was a bit soft for a loaded bike. www.rattrayhead.net
Val and Richard have been here for 8 years and came to escape the rat race. They have self catering, B&B and a bunkhouse with good facilities. You have to like being in the middle of nowhere but it is a wonderful place to stay for cyclists, nature lovers and those that want peace and quiet. A dog heaven and they have two lovely dogs of their own.
I was the only one in the bunkhouse but it is full of books and magazines to read and I borrowed some binoculars and went for a walk down to the beach. You can walk along the beach for miles to St Combs but it was a bit soft for a loaded bike. www.rattrayhead.net
Day 30: Rattray to Cullen Bay 53 miles
Awake at 4am-it was daylight. Fell asleep again and didn't wake until 7.30. Lovely and warm with the heating on. Had porridge from the free food shelf and toast and honey with my free honey from Broughty Ferry. What a lovely stay compared to some of the others and it was a great temptation to stay another night but I was due in Inverness for bike check up and new rear tyre.
Set off at 9.15 in a bit of rain, the first time I had got wet since the Isle of Wight so can't really complain. A short distance up the track came to a ruined church and an info board telling the story of the fishing community that had used the Loch of Strathbeg as its harbour until a great storm blew sand across the inlet and Rattray village died.
Once back to the A90 it was flat going until the turn off to St Combs. This is an old fishing village with a sandy beach and as there is no harbour I presume the boats were pulled up here. Past Inverlochy and then a cycleway alongside a golfcourse and into Fraserburgh. there is a good cafe overlooking the beach as you approach on the cycleway.
The harbour was full of huge deep sea fishing boats as well as prawn boats and small inshore potters. The main street is just yards from the harbour and it reminds me of Newlyn and has a Cosalt, Seamans Mission and lots of chandlers.
The next 20 miles proved hard with heavy rain and a strong wind in my face as by now I'd turned the corner and was heading west. It didn't help when I ended up down the bottom of a very steep hill on Aberdour Beach as it was a dead end and the hill had to be climbed to get out-aren't hills even harder in wet weather gear.
Set off at 9.15 in a bit of rain, the first time I had got wet since the Isle of Wight so can't really complain. A short distance up the track came to a ruined church and an info board telling the story of the fishing community that had used the Loch of Strathbeg as its harbour until a great storm blew sand across the inlet and Rattray village died.
Once back to the A90 it was flat going until the turn off to St Combs. This is an old fishing village with a sandy beach and as there is no harbour I presume the boats were pulled up here. Past Inverlochy and then a cycleway alongside a golfcourse and into Fraserburgh. there is a good cafe overlooking the beach as you approach on the cycleway.
The harbour was full of huge deep sea fishing boats as well as prawn boats and small inshore potters. The main street is just yards from the harbour and it reminds me of Newlyn and has a Cosalt, Seamans Mission and lots of chandlers.
The next 20 miles proved hard with heavy rain and a strong wind in my face as by now I'd turned the corner and was heading west. It didn't help when I ended up down the bottom of a very steep hill on Aberdour Beach as it was a dead end and the hill had to be climbed to get out-aren't hills even harder in wet weather gear.
The section of coast from Fraserburgh to Cullen was fascinating with small fishing villages-Rosehearty, Pennan, Crovie and Gardenstown- set at the bottom of steep hills and just clinging to the land. I'm guessing that some may date from land clearance times when life must have been so tough. Rosehearty was founded by shipwrecked Danes according to the web. Today they are beautiful and Pennan for example was used in the film Local Hero-remember the red telephone box where he descibed the Northern Lights. I had been looking forward to the west coast of Scotland but the east coast was equally fascinating and it was all so new.
If it hadn't been pouring down I'd have gone down to Crovie but it was getting to be hard work with the rain and a headwind. The road now reminded me of the route at home from St Ives to St Just with the sea to your right and acres of gorse in full bloom. The cliffs were the highest I'd seen for miles.
Macduff and Banff are more or less joined but Banff seems less prosperous with a lot of closed pubs and shops. It looks like it was more reliant on the fishing industry whereas Banff seems to be more of a tourist destination. Banff has parrallel shopping streets, one by the sea called Low Street and one higher up which I'm guessing might be High Street, anywhere I stopped in a cafe on the latter.
The last section today was easier, through Whitehills with its broken harbour and along the B9139 to join the main road at Portsoy. Went down to the harbour and then back up a parrallel street to the square. Liked the look of Portsoy and it was bigger than I'd expected. Much of the harbour is the original 1692 construction. One of the local specialities is Portsoy marble or serpentine which is still quarried nearby.
Sandsend really was at the end of the dunes and I recall quite a few villages called this on my trip. Lovely beach.
Finally into Cullen Bay and what a lovely looking town. Everything slopes down to the sea but it has all the facilities you need-butchers, bakers, bank, pubs,co-op, chip shop, golfcourse, super beach and harbour. On top of that the private hostel was brilliant.
If it hadn't been pouring down I'd have gone down to Crovie but it was getting to be hard work with the rain and a headwind. The road now reminded me of the route at home from St Ives to St Just with the sea to your right and acres of gorse in full bloom. The cliffs were the highest I'd seen for miles.
Macduff and Banff are more or less joined but Banff seems less prosperous with a lot of closed pubs and shops. It looks like it was more reliant on the fishing industry whereas Banff seems to be more of a tourist destination. Banff has parrallel shopping streets, one by the sea called Low Street and one higher up which I'm guessing might be High Street, anywhere I stopped in a cafe on the latter.
The last section today was easier, through Whitehills with its broken harbour and along the B9139 to join the main road at Portsoy. Went down to the harbour and then back up a parrallel street to the square. Liked the look of Portsoy and it was bigger than I'd expected. Much of the harbour is the original 1692 construction. One of the local specialities is Portsoy marble or serpentine which is still quarried nearby.
Sandsend really was at the end of the dunes and I recall quite a few villages called this on my trip. Lovely beach.
Finally into Cullen Bay and what a lovely looking town. Everything slopes down to the sea but it has all the facilities you need-butchers, bakers, bank, pubs,co-op, chip shop, golfcourse, super beach and harbour. On top of that the private hostel was brilliant.
Built by the owner from scratch the hostel was opened in 2008. He and his family live next door. It is heated by a Rayburn and as I walked in, soaking wet and cold, the glowing feeling was marvellous. About 20 beds in all, in two rooms, with heavy curtains surrounding each bed which gives you just that little bit of privacy. A wonderful wet room shower and pipes everywhere to dry your clothes. Excellent cooking facilities and plenty of books and information leaflets. This would be a great place for a holiday.
Ruth,the builders wife, who showed me around, told me about a young Welsh walker who'd stayed the night before and was also circumnavigating Britain as well. He'd already been on the road 3 months and had grown a long beard. It didn't click immediately but I'd met him earlier in the day and said hello but didn't stop as we were in the middle of nowhere and I thought he might be a dangerous character as he looked so wild. Wish I'd stopped for a chat now.
I was the only one in the hostel tonight and it really was brilliant. Went up into town and bought some beer and food from the co-op and had a peaceful evening in the warm, drying out and writing my diary. Glad I wrote a detailed account as I would have forgotten so much.
Ruth,the builders wife, who showed me around, told me about a young Welsh walker who'd stayed the night before and was also circumnavigating Britain as well. He'd already been on the road 3 months and had grown a long beard. It didn't click immediately but I'd met him earlier in the day and said hello but didn't stop as we were in the middle of nowhere and I thought he might be a dangerous character as he looked so wild. Wish I'd stopped for a chat now.
I was the only one in the hostel tonight and it really was brilliant. Went up into town and bought some beer and food from the co-op and had a peaceful evening in the warm, drying out and writing my diary. Glad I wrote a detailed account as I would have forgotten so much.
Day 31: Cullen to Inverness 74 miles
It absolutely poured down all night but as I was having breakfast the weather girl said,"Rain will soon clear the Aberdeenshire coast," and so it did. By the time I'd eaten my porridge the sun came out.
From Cullen the old railway over the viaduct has been turned into a cycle route. The path takes you through Portknockie, Findochty and Portessie to Buckie. Lovely views all the way along over the sea and harbours. From Portnagordon minor lanes take you to Spey Bay and then back on the railway track over the Spey on a beautiful iron bridge to Garmouth. More lanes wiggle you to the B9103 and then into Lossiemouth-this is a fantastic ride, perfect for families. This section reminded me of the Strathnaver Valley last year.
From Cullen the old railway over the viaduct has been turned into a cycle route. The path takes you through Portknockie, Findochty and Portessie to Buckie. Lovely views all the way along over the sea and harbours. From Portnagordon minor lanes take you to Spey Bay and then back on the railway track over the Spey on a beautiful iron bridge to Garmouth. More lanes wiggle you to the B9103 and then into Lossiemouth-this is a fantastic ride, perfect for families. This section reminded me of the Strathnaver Valley last year.
Lossiemouth had a large harbour but for the size of the town amazingly few shops. There were the usual yachts and pleasure craft but also a good many fishing boats. There appeared to be no national shops only small local bakers, butchers etc. -no bad thing in my opinion. The streets were wide and straight with shops interspersed with houses.
Looking it up I've found that the present day town is only 200 or so years old and was built on a grid system. It is described as "organised rather than pretty." I must admit I really liked the place and found the shopkeepers really friendly. I bought myself a pie to eat later from the local butcher.
The airfield was opened in 1939 and was very busy as I cycled past. Would like to have seen Elgin but the coast was calling so I left town on the B9040 towards Hopeman.
Looking it up I've found that the present day town is only 200 or so years old and was built on a grid system. It is described as "organised rather than pretty." I must admit I really liked the place and found the shopkeepers really friendly. I bought myself a pie to eat later from the local butcher.
The airfield was opened in 1939 and was very busy as I cycled past. Would like to have seen Elgin but the coast was calling so I left town on the B9040 towards Hopeman.
Into Hopeman and a right turn down to the harbour. Another small town similar to Lossie with a grid design. Either side of the harbour are two good beaches and each town and village I came today was lovely. This whole coast is a real hidden gem and such lovely cycling country, as I said before brilliant for a family as so much of the route is traffic free.
Sat on a grass bank by the harbour and ate my Lossie pie before a trip to the Miele's, a local ice cream parlour on the road down to the harbour. After that it was off and out to Burghead which is a small seetlement at the end of long straight road that ends at the sea. On the headland are the remains of a Pictish fort dating from 300AD and it was apparently in use right up to about 800AD. There are only a few bits left because in the best recycling traditions the stone was used in building the "new" harbour by the Victorians. There is a round, white visitor's centre on the end of the headland.
Sat on a grass bank by the harbour and ate my Lossie pie before a trip to the Miele's, a local ice cream parlour on the road down to the harbour. After that it was off and out to Burghead which is a small seetlement at the end of long straight road that ends at the sea. On the headland are the remains of a Pictish fort dating from 300AD and it was apparently in use right up to about 800AD. There are only a few bits left because in the best recycling traditions the stone was used in building the "new" harbour by the Victorians. There is a round, white visitor's centre on the end of the headland.
As I approached Kinloss a nimrod was practising landing and taking off. It would come in and then just before the wheels touched the ground the engines would open up with a terrific roar and up it would go again. In just a few minutes it did this half a dozen times. The horses in the field alongside the runway took no notice yet the noise was tremendous. The cycle route now took me around Findhorn Bay and past the Benromach distillery to Forres and then along beautiful lanes to Nairn. I was really tired by now as the wind had been in my face all day.
I was going to go inland to Croy but thought it would be even windier up there so risked the A96- which was aweful but eventually turned right to get off it onto the B9092 to Ardersier.
I had originally planned to go and see Fort St George but it was late and my legs had had enough. Foolowing the B9039 along the edge of the Moray Firth, the wind was so strong you could hardly pedal.Past Castle Stuart and back onto the A96, I then cut up to Culloden and followed the back roads into Inverness- the same roads Alison and I had used last year coming out of the town.
I arrived at the Youth Hostel at 7pm really tired. I was in room 252 and being a modern hostel it was a card entry system to the rooms. Went for a quick shower and immediately locked myself out so had to go down several flights of stairs to the reception only covered by a small towel to get another card, how embarrasing!
Luckily I knew from last year that there was good weatherspoons in town so off I went for a well earned pint and a curry.
Back from town I had 2 bowls of cerael but I Didn't get a lot of sleep as below my room was a party of very noisy school children and in my room was a loud snorer.How come people who snore can always go to sleep immediately? One of my room mates gave up and went and slept in the TV room on the floor. Three of the people in the room had just finished Lejog and came back late from celebrating. The second night was similar but for different reasons that I'll tell you about in a minute.
I was going to go inland to Croy but thought it would be even windier up there so risked the A96- which was aweful but eventually turned right to get off it onto the B9092 to Ardersier.
I had originally planned to go and see Fort St George but it was late and my legs had had enough. Foolowing the B9039 along the edge of the Moray Firth, the wind was so strong you could hardly pedal.Past Castle Stuart and back onto the A96, I then cut up to Culloden and followed the back roads into Inverness- the same roads Alison and I had used last year coming out of the town.
I arrived at the Youth Hostel at 7pm really tired. I was in room 252 and being a modern hostel it was a card entry system to the rooms. Went for a quick shower and immediately locked myself out so had to go down several flights of stairs to the reception only covered by a small towel to get another card, how embarrasing!
Luckily I knew from last year that there was good weatherspoons in town so off I went for a well earned pint and a curry.
Back from town I had 2 bowls of cerael but I Didn't get a lot of sleep as below my room was a party of very noisy school children and in my room was a loud snorer.How come people who snore can always go to sleep immediately? One of my room mates gave up and went and slept in the TV room on the floor. Three of the people in the room had just finished Lejog and came back late from celebrating. The second night was similar but for different reasons that I'll tell you about in a minute.
Now before I left Cornwall I'd phoned a cycle shop in Inverness to arrange a quick service and rear tyre change and said I'd be arriving at the shop on Tuesday May 26th at 9 o'clock. I arrived at exactly the right time on the right day after having cycled 2000miles. Unfortunately my tyre wasn't there and they said wouldn't be until Wednesday.
I'd planned to stay 2 days in Inverness but this now turned into 3. Luckily the hostel had vacancies and I was able to stay in the same room which was an entertainment in itself.
On the second night 3 Germans booked in which was fine until I was asleep at midnight. Suddenly I became aware of someone walking around the room. The lights came on and a loud German voice bellowed out to one of my room mates "You are in my bed!"
Well all hell broke loose as an Englishman and a German argued over bunks. I tried to calm the situation and suggested that one of them would have to go down to reception and get another sheet sleeping bag. Unfortunately the Englishman didn't help by saying "Well there's only one of us with clothes on."
Eventually a very disgruntled 20 stone German had to go down and then climb onto a top bunk and spend the rest of the night making as much noise, on purpose, as possible from above. At breakfat the following morning the 3 Germans spent the whole time staring acoss the room at the bunk stealer who swore blind he'd not moved the sheets. To add to all this the snorer still went to sleep early and snored all night.
Night three was much better as everyone left and I was joined by two brothers who I was to meet and get to know better a few days later at Tongue Youth Hostel. Also the children downstairs were replaced by a party of Saumi children from Northern Norway and their manners and behaviour were immaculate. They wore national costume to visit local schools and looked superb. In the evening they were all given a new £10 note and allowed to go off into town to explore.
After the delay I must say the bikeshop did a good job on my bike and so all's well that ends well and anyway I quite like Inverness. While walking around met a group of American cyclists who were loading up their bikes outside another hostel. They asked me about an accomodation gap they had in their itinery and I was glad to recommend the Crask Inn and later I was to meet them again by pure chance. Their tour had been delayed as they waited for two days for their bikes to catch them up. The airline was going to be in for a right mouthful when they got home.
I'd planned to stay 2 days in Inverness but this now turned into 3. Luckily the hostel had vacancies and I was able to stay in the same room which was an entertainment in itself.
On the second night 3 Germans booked in which was fine until I was asleep at midnight. Suddenly I became aware of someone walking around the room. The lights came on and a loud German voice bellowed out to one of my room mates "You are in my bed!"
Well all hell broke loose as an Englishman and a German argued over bunks. I tried to calm the situation and suggested that one of them would have to go down to reception and get another sheet sleeping bag. Unfortunately the Englishman didn't help by saying "Well there's only one of us with clothes on."
Eventually a very disgruntled 20 stone German had to go down and then climb onto a top bunk and spend the rest of the night making as much noise, on purpose, as possible from above. At breakfat the following morning the 3 Germans spent the whole time staring acoss the room at the bunk stealer who swore blind he'd not moved the sheets. To add to all this the snorer still went to sleep early and snored all night.
Night three was much better as everyone left and I was joined by two brothers who I was to meet and get to know better a few days later at Tongue Youth Hostel. Also the children downstairs were replaced by a party of Saumi children from Northern Norway and their manners and behaviour were immaculate. They wore national costume to visit local schools and looked superb. In the evening they were all given a new £10 note and allowed to go off into town to explore.
After the delay I must say the bikeshop did a good job on my bike and so all's well that ends well and anyway I quite like Inverness. While walking around met a group of American cyclists who were loading up their bikes outside another hostel. They asked me about an accomodation gap they had in their itinery and I was glad to recommend the Crask Inn and later I was to meet them again by pure chance. Their tour had been delayed as they waited for two days for their bikes to catch them up. The airline was going to be in for a right mouthful when they got home.