Tuesday, 3 March 2015

West Coast of Scotland Cycling Trip


12 to 18 April 2014


Planning a cycling trip in the West Coast of Scotland, in April, requires a fair amount of optimism and craziness. The chances of even glance some sunshine are so tiny that not even my most enthusiastic side was actually believing it could happen. The first day was meeting all the expectations and warned us “there will be no miracles here” welcome to the West Coast!




For those brave enough to have a go, I'd suggest those websites, you will not regret it.




7 days to complete a route of 465km. Train to Mallaig, ferry to Armadale, cycle up to Portree, then Uig, ferry to Tarbert, cycle to Stornoway, wonder around the island, ferry to Ullapool and cycle down to Strathcarron. Aware it would have been hard I didn't dare ask anyone to join me, but sometimes things just happen, and then they just get better and better.


The first priceless addition to the trip was my dear Irish flatmate Grainne. Now, trying to convey her true nature is harder then the whole trip itself. To make it short, let's say she is the face of perfection: generous, strong, talented, she can play I think everything, sweet, smart, genuinely crazy, active, full of interests, perfect cook, altruistic and any other quality you can think off just add it to the list. She was so enthusiastic at the idea of the trip that no matter how much I tried to dissuade her with all the miserable scenarios we would experience and all the figures I could come up with (tot elevation gained = 5720m), she just wanted to come, with her single speed bike and a backpack.


Then, on a pub night, I mentioned the trip to the guys I used to volunteer with in the Bike Station, and Paul said he was actually thinking to go up West in the spring too. I thought he was taking the piss, or he was just too polite to tell me to get lost, but he was really meaning it.


And there we were, Grá, Paul, me (and the ukulele). The 3 most different people you can think of, joining their craziness on a unique trip experience, ready for pain, rain, storms, being cold and wet, and ready to welcome anything would happen with a big smile. And it turned out to be an explosive cocktail, with a lot of good luck too which I believe I have to thank Grainne's karma for.




Saturday 12 April - Mallaig
We spent most of the first day on the train to Mallaig getting to know each other better and checking out the details of the trip. We soon learnt that we would need improvisation skills more than the planning ones. The first ferry got cancelled due to strong wind, so that we were all stranded in Mallaig, hoping the day after it would be operational. The only 4m2 we found were outside the Primary School, and they turned out to be the rockiest ones too but very panoramic as we could spot the ferry. We than started to pitch the tent I borrowed from a friend, following the instructions on the back of its carrying bag, and when up, we staid silent for a while looking at it until Grá commented “oh well, we will be cosy!”




Accommodation sorted, and after practising some ukulele notes (sorry Paul!) we strolled down to the village looking for food and found out that there was a ceilidh going on in one of the 2 pubs that we obviously couldn't miss! We realised then how lucky we had been to have the ferry cancelled, as it was an amazing night! Cyclists, sailors, local people, and a lot of beer and whisky, another good combination for one of those surreal nights where nobody is sure of what's going on.


Sunday 13 April – Mallaig to Portree
Grainne is indeed a splendid person, but as perfect as she can be, she does have a small flaw...time! Knowing that in advance, I must admit that giving her the “set the alarm clock” task was not a good idea. We were meant to get the 8.30am ferry, but when I glimpsed at the watch, and said, as cold and unemotional as I could “guys, it's 8.10”, it was panic. The first thoughts that passed my mind were, in order “I'm so glad it's Sunday and the Primary School is closed; the tent is really cosy; what happened last night?; I need a smoke urgently”.


Amazingly we managed to unpack the tent and pack the panniers in 15 min. We arrived at the harbour at 8.30 sharp (well, actually the guys did, I took the wrong exit at the roundabout, again, and was wondering around the residential streets for a while trying to deny the obvious – I can't have done it again) but, the ferry had just left. Too bad! And what can you do in those cases? Have breakfast, and make sure is a good one!


The 10am ferry was finally boarded, the 1/2h journey very moved, and the desperation on the eyes of the people queuing to board on the other side gave me an exhaustive idea of what was to come, welcome to the Isle of Sky. The weather was indeed wild, a no stop fight against the elements, no expectation to get better, and the prospect of a week like that in front of us did not help improve the morale. 



The key scenes from the day were: Grá joining us in the bus stop shelter, shrinking ½ l of water off her wool gloves, at the question “Grá are you all right?” “yes I'm grand”; Paul whose bike was blown off the wind; rivers of rain coming down the road; and the sweet view of Portree at a distance with a background colour not seen yet: blue. The thought of a warm shower and bed made us all quickly agree on staying at the hostel, which turned out to be the gate to a parallel universe we would frequently visit in the following months.  


After the shower and an abundant dinner we went for an exploration stroll of this magical little village. Its colours and peace finally lifted our mood, and although sceptical, we welcomed the forecasts of sunny days ahead with a a lot of scepticism and hope. 


 


Monday 14 April - Portree to Uig
The reason why I love Scotland is that it continuously makes you feel alive, it's extreme. It's impossible to get bored here as there is never a dull day, you continuously live in a state of amazement. The days before was one of the most miserable cycling day, and today the best one ever. Blue sky, stunning landscape, great company, and even the sight of an eagle blessing us from above. The day had a late start. At 10am Paul was still explaining to Sotiria, the who that was working in the hostel, what a pannier is. Sotiria was in fact intrigued by out cycling trip, and got the idea to cycle back to her hometown in Greece when finishing working in the hostel, but she had never cycled before! I was so sorry to have to pressure Paul to leave the conversation, but my Swiss side was kicking me hard. It turned out Sotiria did make it to Greece, really an amazing achievement, well done Sotiria!


Paul had the idea to ask the bus driver if he could bring our bags to Uig. The bus was about to leave so that we packed quickly all we didn't need for the day and dropped the bags in the bus. Bad news is that only after he left did I realise that the lock key was in the pannier I dropped in the bus... The lock got sawed and we happily, and lightly, headed off along the most amazing route ever, up to Staffin. We then left the bikes for some hiking up the Quiraing, and after an unforgettable pick-nick we kept going towards Uig. 






 


This was one of those days that you can cycle for ever, and you hope it will never finish because it's just too good. But the sight of a ferry brought us back to reality, in Uig we were, and our bags were in the bus stop shelter as promised. 




Everything went so smooth that day that I was worried about the price we would have had to pay in the following day, probably with interests. After preparing our cosy tent for the night, we went for the biggest fish and chips, a pint of duty and finished the day with a walk in the full moon.


Tuesday 15 April – Uig to Stornoway
The 4h ferry to Tarbert gave us plenty of time for breakfast and stretching. We were entering the true West Coast, the Hebrides, Isle of Harris and Lewis, what an honour! Once landed we tried to play the trick again and ask the bus driver if he could bring our bags to Stornoway, but this time we had no luck. Instead of the bags he offered to bring us and the bikes to Stornoway. We had no much time to make a decision, the weather was wild and threatening, so that bus it was. I do regret not to have cycled that bit, but, to be fair, the weather was dreadful, the road narrow and busy, and cycling to Stornoway would have meant we wouldn't have had time to visit Callanish, or so I justify it to myself. We arrived in Stornoway at midday and opted for the hostel, which was a very good hostel, basically like being home. We checked in, left the bags, and off we went for the 40m loop of the island, stopping at Callanish and breathing the magic and the history surrounding this place.











The days were long but it was getting late, and a strong headwind during the first half of the loop slowed us down, well, actually just me. I suddenly felt weak and powerless against the wind, I had to stop on a number of times and after drinking 1 bottle of milk in the only hotel we found I started to feel slightly better. Still the energy in the air was very very weird.


Wednesday 16 April – Stornoway to Ullapool
This turned to be an unplanned day off. The original plan implied some cycling around, but it was pouring down, the hostel was just too comfy and the 1pm ferry wouldn't allow a decent cycle anyway. We just walked around town, talking to locals, Paul got a Harris Tweed scarf which matched very well with his cycling outfit and proved to be the most fashionable of us all. The ferry to Ullapool was warm and relaxed. More stretching, some acrobatics on the main dock and the feeling to be entering wonderland on approaching the coast and the village. 




We headed to the hostel, dropped the bag and headed to the pub as our recovery schedule dictated.




Thursday 17 April – Ullapool to Gairloch
The profile of the day was scaring - 56m and 1000m elevation gained - and the sky didn't look much better then the map. But sometimes you can just see beauty, and there was beauty everywhere, the trip was about to finish, we felt happy and rested, the mood was high and we were all the intention to get the most of the day.


After a huge breakfast, Grá went to the post office to post back some stuff , Paul to the outdoor shop to get some waterproof overshoes and in the meantime I was wrapping my feet in shopping plastic bags. Within 2 hours we would realise that nothing can be Scotland waterproof.






The ride up the hill was a fight with nature, we got a blizzard on reaching the top and I was blown off the bike, but given the force of the headwind I basically fell from a still position. The sight of an abandoned hut felt like a mirage but it was real. 




We sheltered there waiting for the hail storm to pass and then kept going, with the relief that it was downhill to the next town. The headwind was still strong though and we had to pedal going down too. Morale was low, we stopped at the first hotel we met to warm up a bit, the Dunonnell, and the owner was an angel fallen from the sky. She gave us an electric heather to dry up, and called a local guy who would later drive us a few miles down the road, where the wind direction would change. We will never be thankful enough for their kindness. 





We then kept going up and down the hills, the weather improved by then and we started enjoying the ride and ourselves. Life was good again! 




Gairloch is located in a beautiful setting, we went build up the tent with a blue sky, played some capoeira and ukulele, and ended the day playing cards at the pub. 










Life was good indeed, but somehow we felt sad at the thought that it was the last night of the trip.


Friday 18 April – Gairloch to Strathcarron
The last day of the adventure gave us a very sunny and frozen good morning. After packing the tent we went to look for breakfast. Our eyes enlightened when, in the only place open, a 4 star hotel, we were welcomed for a buffet breakfast, and we were the only guests around apart from a business man. We stocked up as many calories as possible as we were not sure if or when we would find some other shop. And then we headed off for another spectacular ride of 55miles and 800m elevation gained. Brilliant route, surrounded by mountains, a lake and brilliant weather. I spent the day with my mouth open in amazement. At times I felt like cycling back home in the Alps and it felt great, like being a child again and being happy just of being there. 





It was so warm that we even got an ice scream, and some beer, to celebrate the end of a brilliant week. Our friendship was certainly reinforced by all the shared laughs and pains, and we spent the long hours in the train remembering all the adventure with the certainty that was not the last one.










For a full video report:




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