Durness back through Glencoe to Tyndrum: written from Bates Motel

Well, not really Bates Motel but it might be. It’s a guest house in Tyndrum with a number of little rooms. I’m in number 6. (I am not a number – I am a free man…)

Despite the moment of beauty last night at Durness I woke to drizzle and heavy skies with the forecast for heavy rain all day. So I abandoned my plan to get the ferry over to Cape Wrath and packed up instead, dressed in rain gear and warm scarf I headed south, quickly, aiming for Glencoe. And it rained and rained. For a strange reason my visor misted up inside and I couldn’t clear it whatever I tried (this was before I discovered anti-fog for my specs). This was really maddening. There was nowhere under shelter to stop to try to dry things out. I tried tilting my head and going fast to get a breeze going but nothing helped. Eventually I stopped to fill up with petrol and lingered as long as I could under the canopy of the petrol station. Early in the day I vowed not to camp tonight. I had no heart for putting up a tent in the rain in wet clothes having been riding for a total of 5 and 1/2 hours in rain. So I tried a few hotels near Glencoe. The first wanted £145 for bed and breakfast. The second looked much more down to earth staffed by young Australians but they had no room though they invited me to camp in their grounds. The third also was full but phoned through to this guest house. A South African woman answered but she is nowhere to be seen instead a very helpful man who keeps stuffed birds everywhere. He lives over the way with the mysterious woman. It’s deathly quiet here or that could be the result of not wearing earplugs for today’s 5 and a half hour ride. There’s a toasty drying room complete with dehumidifier which I would have loved to stay in all evening. (My shower could do with a bit of a clean as there seem to be some bloodstains in the corners.)

Bertha will turn 20,000 tomorrow. There are no photos from today as it was too wet to get the camera out of my pocket.

Stats:

Is it this tiny iPhone that I’m using to document this trip or the inclement conditions that abbreviate this travel account? Today I was pleased to get away from the Wee campsite which started off so well and got exciting even with the arrival if the German duo with sidecars (and a Scots bike veteran pointed out to me he knew they were foreign because the sidecars were on the wrong side and I noticed that one had reverse gear so no wonder it manoeuvred so neatly) but it was the family with tantrumming boy and their own very apparent difficulty right next door that drive me nuts. “the professionals say there’s nothing wrong with him but we can’t cope” they complained to each other. They arrived back after 9pm to fry bacon when I was already in my sleeping bag reading Big Sur as it got dark. Before them was another couple with very many children one crying and father losing his rag. That’s camping for you. But today was lovely after my getaway and a lovely ride on the sunshine to Ullapool for bagel and a pot of tea then restock at the last Tesco and throw out that nasty wine that gave me a headache tasted awful and finally leaked in my bag.

Then after I turned left north and all the other traffic turned right so I am on my own to zoom past the sheep and tourists to arrive here at 2.30 where it’s good to arrive early to get the good places mine down by the fantastic cliff though there is a huge space by the entrance with scores of campervans. This is like a separate place, quiet so far, though there is a space next to me. The waves are crashing.

Tomorrow I plan to take the minibus to Cape Wrath then on Monday head back south to Glen Coe again in one day.

It is beautiful and awesome in a way in this site on the edge of a cliff and on the edge of the British Isles. I look over the sea northward and wonder where the next land is. But we are also exposed here to the rain.