Day 10 - The Last Resort

Last night as I phoned my wife I remember saying, "We only have 72 miles left, so whatever Scotland throws at us, we should make it".

Fateful words as Scotland decided to throw it all at us for this last LUCKY day. we started off with last night's "Devil's Porridge"™ ; also the temperature had dropped to about 10 degrees. As well as this we were following a coastal road that included some serious hills, particually around Helmsdale (later referred to as Helmsdeep for LOTR fans) and Berriedale. Last and by no means least it rained, and by that I mean it rained all day.

On the positive side, we finished. Plus, we met some more LEJOG-ers and saw several JOGLE-ers going the other way. We started chatting to one particular group of LEJOG-ers we saw and kept passing and being passed by. The main man was a Geordie ex-policeman who was recovering from cancer and was raising money for the Macmillan nurses. He'd been out for a couple of weeks and was doing the whole thing on a mountain bike just to make things harder.


The rain got heavier and we started to seek shelter in rural bus stops every few miles. At one point the rain got so hard that Patrick's mudguard fell off. Things were very bleak, we were on a coastal road and couldn't see the difference between the sea and the sky - all we could see was one massive body of grey.

Our second problem of the day was that there was "something going on" in John o'Groats. We'd tried phoning a few places the night before but everywhere was already booked - not a bed to be found in JoG. We suspected that we would therefore have to find somewhere in a nearby village, and the worst case scenario might be having to cycle all the way back to Wick. I set Sharon on the case and after a lot of digging, she came up trumps with a room in a little village 'a couple of miles' past JoG. Knowing we had a bed for the night made battling through the rain a little easier.

There comes a point on this sort of journey when you are so wet, so cold and so tired that the only thing functioning is your legs. I found myself just counting pdeal rotations and staring at the back wheel of whoever was in front of me at the time. Being so wet meant that I no longer needed to avoid the spray from Julian's back wheel, opting instead to let it simply land wherever it landed. You don't have the mental capacity to have real thoughts or hold any sort of conversation. On the plus side, it seems that the body really only feels one lot of pain at a time, so when my hands were in pain from the cold, I no longer felt the back- side pain from 850 miles of saddle sore.

By the time we reached Wick we were praising Martin's genius at booking the B&B in Golspie. Overshooting by 16 miles yesterday meant that we did not have to do 90+ miles today - a master stroke that may well have made finishing today a possibility - Thanks Marty. We huddled in a small cafe in Wick for more tea and cake, hoping it would see us through the last 17 miles.

We dragged ourselves the last 17 miles in one hit, more through will-power than physical strength. We stopped to take pictures by the first JoG road sign and were joined by our fellow Geordie LEJOGer who helped out with some group snaps. We then progressed into the tourist bit for some more pictures, a bit of shopping for tat and some drying out.

When we'd arrived at Land's End all those days ago, it was just closing. the man in the photo booth took down the sign pos minutes after we'd taken our snaps. JoG was almost the same, we had 10 minutes for a quick warming drink, then we were kicked out of the cafe as they closed for the night.

Julian still hadn't warmed up properly, and after a desparate hunt around for a pottery or candle shop that was still open and might offer some warmth, we decided the best way to get him hot was to start cycling to our B&B. The last 'couple' of miles to the B&B turned out to be 7 miles, but finally we hand the wind behind us. We'd learned that the JoG guest houses were booked up for a vintage car rally and couldn't help but draw some satisfaction from seeing a couple of vintage cars that had broken down a couple of miles from JoG, or were getting drenched in the rain, and before long we arrived soggy and tired, but happy and proud.


The B&B was the best yet, more part of someone's home rather than just another business. We had a pleasant dinner at the local hotel/pub where we heard many tales of the queen mother and whiskey identification, even a few snatches of galic were filling the background for ambience. We retired to the B&B for a well deserved sleep, safe in the knowledge that we didnt have to cycle a hundred miles the next day and only had a 12 hour van journey to return to our own beds.

Julian's statoids - Day Ten
Daily Distance: 72 miles
Cumulative Distance: 873.5 miles
Ride time: 5 hours 10 mins
Top Speed: 43.3 mph
Average speed: 13.9 mph
Calories Burned - 4300
Terrain - All sorts, but mainly up due to starting at sea level
Key Events: Rain, rain & more rain. Hiding in bus shelters, arrival at JoG.

Day 9 - Going the extra mile (or 16)

We awoke in Dalwhinnie to find that Julian had decided not to go 'skinny dipping' in the nearby loch with the friendly German chap who had taken a shine to him the night before. "it is very private - no one vould mind - you could be naked and no one vould know".

After breakfast and some last minute blogging, we set off from Dalwhinnie, just managing to avoid a diversion to the local distillery. We were on the old A9 again for quite a lot of the day, so kept away from the traffic quite a lot, except for descending which would have been a bit too exhilarating on the old and sometimes loose road surface. For once, the sun was shining - almost like summer, but the wind was still there. We'd checked the elevation profile for the days route and it had looked reasonably gentle, but then, spread out over 100 miles, most roads look reasonably gentle.

The full extent of our gentle ascent became apparant when we found a summit sign informing us that we'd climbed to over 1300 feet without fully noticing - perhaps we were getting better at hills...

We found a lunchstop pub with a suntrap courtyard, and once the wind was diverted, the full warmth of the day could be felt and we didn't really want to move on. Still, many more miles had to be covered and we decided it was better to make some proverbial hay while the sun shone.

After lunch, we were still on the busy A9, unable to work out where all the traffic was coming from or going to - then we reached the edges of Inverness. The wind was fighting us again as we descended towards Inverness and we were clocked by a police speed trap, though at 28mph I don't think we were breaking any laws. The bridges were an opportunity for a few photos, and better still, took us away from the congestion of Inverness.

Our aim for the day was to cover a reasonable distance so that our last day would be 'relatively' easy. We'd decided on a safe target for the day, and asked our booking agent to try for that or somewhere slightly past it. Unfortunately our agent seemed to have temporarily forgotten that we were on bikes, and booked us a hotel some 16 miles further that we'd planned. As the wind picked up again, it was turned blue by the profuse cursing aimed at our booking agent.

Those last 16 miles into a strong headwind were ticked off one by one - largely in silence apart from the grunts and heavy breathing associated with extreme exertion. On reaching Golspie, we had achieved our highest daily mileage and it felt like it. Our accommodation was suitable, though on finding somewhere to eat, we realised that we had not necessarily found a bargain. Our hotel manager was a little 'ecentric', patrolling the hotel and gradens with a walkie talkie on his 'utility belt'. The next morning, he was cooking up breakfast in cartoon pyjamas, still sporting the walkie talkie...



Golspie itself was a strange place - deserted apart from a handful of joyriders and a gaggle of teenage girls refining their distraction and shoplifting skills in the local mini-mart. It had just started rainng as we left, but we were heartened by the fact that we were leaving.

Julian's statoids - Day Nine
Daily Distance: 111 miles
Cumulative Distance: 815.5 miles
Ride time: 7 hours 20 mins
Top Speed: 38.2 mph
Average speed: 15.0 mph
Calories Burned - 5500
Terrain - Some climbing, and big descents
Key Events: Good sunny weather, Finding an altitude sign at the top of a climb, Comedy B&B booking.

Day 8 - The Devil's Porridge

When Fran from Travis posed the question "Why does it always rain on me" in his maudlin way, I didn't feel properly qualified to offer an opinion. However, things have changed, and I'm ready to give it a shot. It wasn't because he "lied when he was 17" - no, no, no. The much more obvious answer is simply that he was Scottish and living in Scotland.

I appreciate we're prattling on about the weather in this blog, but 1) We are British, and 2) When you're on a pedal bike, it really matters - a lot. Throughout the trip, we've been paying particular attention to the weather forecast each evening, and to some degree, it has served us well. However, once you get into Scotland, you just may as well not bother. It's better to simply accept that each day will bring you "some of each kind" of weather and not try to plan where or when it will be.

In our Gretna B&B there were a number of adverts and flyers for a theatre company called "The Devil's Porridge". We chortled (as blokes do), wondering just how Roger's Profanisaurus might define said satanic breakfast.

As we hit our first headwind of the day, Patrick remarked that it was like "cycling through the Devil's porridge", a phrase that sayed with us for the rest of the day.


We had a long ascent from Yetts o' Muckhart (these are not made-up place names) followed by 4 miles at 30mph+ back down into Dunning - possibly the most high-speed fun of the day. Bananas and fluids were consumed in the warming sun in the centre of Dunning, before heading out into a brief rainstorm. After yesterday's near hypothermic conditions, we made a pact to seek shelter as soon as the roads looked more like rivers. It wasn't long before we were huddled under a tree chatting to a female cyclists who'd popped out for a quick ride in the glorious sunny weather.

We skirted around Perth into more up hill stuff then down into Pitlochry at around 60 miles, for massive spuds, cheese, beans and tea. With the easy (ahem) bit of the day behind us, we set off once more straight into a hail shower and decided to shelter for a second time.


Five miles later, we found a nice "bikes only" road sandwiched between the A9 and the River Garry. We found a very pleasant rocky / rapids / waterfall spot to slip a banana in and take on some water. This was the first bit of the entire journey that felt faintly recreational - almost like being on holiday - this was a feeling that would soon be engulfed by the Devil's porridge.

We re-joined the A9 into the full force of the howling wind. Our speed dropped to single digits and the hill seemed to go on for ever. The higher we got, the more fierce the wind, and even Patrick failed to use his "big ring".

Once over the summit, we could tell we were heading down because we sometimes hit 12 mph, and a signpost to Dalwhinnie (our destination for the evening) was a more then welcome sight. Patrick was still "in the zone" and sailed straight past the hotel, but Jules and I made no such school boy error, slamming on the brakes and refusing to pedal aonther foot.

A serving of meat, whiskey & Tiramisu made the events of the day seem like a distant bad dream ...


Julian's statoids - Day Eight
Daily Distance: 93 miles
Cumulative Distance: 704.5 miles
Ride time: 6 hours 50 mins
Top Speed: 34.7 mph
Average speed: 13.7 mph
Calories Burned - 4300
Terrain - All sorts, but mainly up due to starting at sea level
Key Events: Lots of satanic breakfast matter, completely empty cycle track, a superb descent, our second exposure to hail.

Day 7 - The right sort of wind at last

We negotiated a series of anvil-named features to leave Gretna, and set off on the old A74, which was almost completely empty as the M74 runs parallel to it. We had a rather welcome tail wind for the first time on our trip, rather than the wind from our tails. We also set off in glorious sunshine and Patrick couldn't wait to slather on the sunscreen (again). Another trip first was to see several other LEJOG and JOGEL riders on the road, three were solo and one guy had a support vecihle (lightweight).

Respect is due to the Scottish road engineers who managed to keep the A74 ascents so gentle that we weren't always sure that we were going upwards which was a little disorientating.
Not only that, but the surfaces were smooth as well - is the best place in the whole country for cycling?

Unfortunately, things couldn't carry on that well for ever, and some gentle rain made Nigel decide to put his raincoat on. 200m further on some slightly less gentle rain made Julian and Patrick decide to put their raincoats on
too.

Then before we could put on waterproof overshoes or find any shelter, some rain which couldn't in any way be described as gentle completely soaked us. We rode on to find a big bush to hide under, or any sign of human habitation, but after five miles the rain finally died out, and we found a local pub (for local people) to warm up and dry out in with tea, coffee, rolls and chips.


After lunch we had more tailwind which pushed us on for another 20-30 miles. Then things turned really hilly again, at one point we had a 18% incline. We struggled on with this terain until we found our rather grand accomadation the Powfoulis Hotel near Falkirk. Patrick was particularly taken with the monogrammed PH carpets in the main building.

Our host was very friendly - especially as we seemed to be the only guests in Powfoulis that night. Patrick & Nige had man-sized portions of pasta (which we'd been craving for a while), then Jules and Nige tried some whiskey - just a wee dram 'afore bed.


Julian's statoids - Day Seven
Daily Distance: 1oo miles
Cumulative Distance: 611.5 miles
Ride time: 6 hours 26 mins
Top Speed: 37.9 mph
Average speed: 15.4 mph
Calories Burned - 5000
Terrain - Gradual climbs, then serious undulations, and a final descent to sea level
Key Events: Marvellously empty road, seeing other LEJoG-ers, a very heavy rainstorm, and a very welcome tailwind.

Day 6 - The Long and (Upwardly) Winding Road

We managed an early breakfast at the B&B in Bilsborrow (just outside Preston) and were on the road at 8:20. This was part of the plan, knowing that at some point today, we would be straining our way up Shap Fell. Martin back in the office sent me a TXT with a few stats: "Basically, you'll be climbing for about 18 miles to around 1400ft, but there's not many bits that are steeper than 10%".

Before hitting those delights, we had to cover the leisurely 40 miles to Kendal - home of mint cake. This should have been a snap were it not for the 20mph head wind trying to push us back to Preston. Why are we going fromLand's End to John o'Groats and not doing the trip the other way round? Well, it's because of Britain's prevailing south westerly wind - it's just not sensible to cycle against it all the way.

Well, the south westerly has yet to prevail, as the north-easterly is currently beating the living daylights out of it, and making our journey a little more painful to boot.

Still, we arrived in Kendal and worrying about Patrick's infamous 'Dad Nav' abilities, Julian actually stopped and asked directions to the nearest supermarket where Patrick would be able to impress us with his shopping abilities... He returned from Morrison's foyer with cheese rolls. Now that may not sound too bad, but our choice of filling was peanut butter and jam. Apparently we were not to worry about the funny taste and just think of all that extra cheesey energy. Still, the malt loaf and chocolate slices went down fairly well.


After that gourmet lunch, we began the ascent of Shap Fell. A fellow cyclist may well have had a similar gourmet lunch - he was seen hunched over at the other side of the road, throwing up - and he'd been going down hill!

It was tough and slow going - particularly for me since hill climbing is not my forte but after the first 7 miles of pain, we settled into our respective rhythms and stopped near the top for a photo opportunity.

The descent was meant to be a piece of cake, but that headwind made us pedal all the way down to Shap (where we bought a piece of cake to go with our cups of tea) and on to Penrith. More supplies were gained there, then onto Carlisle and out on the A7 towards Scotland.

Patrick had a near accident experience when a local boy racer came up behind him too fast and slammed his brakes on, leaving ten feet of skidmarks on the road ... (oh go on, you can make up your own jokes from here).

Reaching the border seemed like a real milestone even though we still have 360 miles to go. We took some photos at the sign and tried to get our heads around the fact that 5 days ago we were in Cornwall...


Julian's statoids - Day Six
Daily Distance: 98 miles
Cumulative Distance: 511.5 miles
Ride time: 7 hours 1 mins
Top Speed: 33.3 mph
Average speed: 13.9 mph
Calories Burned - 4500
Terrain - Mostly flat
Key Events: Shap's 1400ft ascent. Cheese rolls.

Day 5 - The Road To Wigan/Widnes/Warrington

We left the new town named after Thomas Telford, the inventor of the roundabout, and caught the tail end of the morning rush hour. After that the A49 seemed to be full of trucks, although they provided some shelter from strong crosswinds.

Fortunately today was the closest we've been so far to having a tail wind, which got us to over 50 miles by lunchtime. The day was also dry, so maybe the weather's turning in our favour.

Warrington and Wigan felt like a continuous conurbation of congestion for about 30 miles of traffic lights. The only good thing about Warrington was that the long descent into it didn't have a corresponding climb on the other side. We realised that the area was pretty rough, as even the police station was boarded up.

Somewhere on a four-lane roundabout in one of the towns beginning with W, Nigel's pannier fell off, but luckily he retrieved it before it go squashed, so his muffins didn't suffer any damage.

We took a brief stop in Wigan to use toilets in fast food restaurants t, and used the benches of the pedestrianised area as a picnic table. I'd love to say we really wanted to stay longer, but when the local busker fired into Petula Clarke's "Downtown", it was definitely time to move on. Read into that rich description of Wigan town centre what you will.

Buying post-ride yoghurt drinks in Preston took three attempts, although this didn't slow our progress as much as the earlier traffic. Soon after leaving there we reached our destination for the evening, right beside our route, and with a pub for our meal directly opposite.

One worrying thing is that the water of the Lancashire Canal is higher than our room, and only a few metres away, so you'll be able to work out what's happened if this blog doesn't go any further ...

The evening has been spent planning ways to save weight for tomorrows 18 mile ascent to Shap. Suggestions so far include:

• Make sure one's bowels are clear.


• Clip toenails.


• Have a shave.


• Throw away un-fixable punctured inner tube.


• Throw away *all* packaging


• Make Patrick eat the extra 500g jar of jam he couldn't resist in an unmissable 2 for 1 offer.


• Sneak dense items into Patrick's bag while he's asleep.


• Don't steal 10 muffins and 5 bananas from Holiday Inn.

Julian's statoids - Day Five
Daily Distance: 97 miles
Cumulative Distance: 413.5 miles
Ride time: 6 hours 19 mins
Top Speed: 37.9.6 mph
Average speed: 15.3 mph
Calories Burned - 4500
Terrain - Mostly flat
Key Events: Nigel's flying pannier

Day 4 - Lucky Escape

Contrary to the in-depth weather analysis on Sky TV, the day started dry (although cloudy), and stayed that way for most of the day, with occassional moments of sunshine.

We found our way out of Bristol with the help of Bill's trusty compass, and all liked Gloucestershire's flat roads and frequent cycle lanes. Later on we found a bizarre cafe in Tewkesbury that could easily have been in Royston Vasey, where the staff understood the concept of a jug of water, but didn't bring any glasses to go with it.

We spent a more pleasant half an hour in the sunshine in Worcester Cathedral Close, then made good progress down a long hill after that.

At the next break Nigel and Patrick were waiting outside a petrol station and heard lots of banging from inside. Luckily Julian was more public spirited, and standing proud like a Colossus, thrust himself into the Ladies where he rescued a woman who was stuck in the toilet.

We made the mistake of relying on Julian's memory of how many hills there were between Kidderminster and Telford, unfortunately he normally does the trip by car so undercounted by a factor of about 10.


After surviving five miles of hell on the Telford ringroad, we chased after a taxi driver to get directions to our hotel, which seemed to have a convention of retired Girl Guides in progress.


Julian's statoids - Day Four
Distance: 100.5 miles
Cumulative distance: 316.5 miles
Ride time: 6 hours 40 mins
Top Speed: 32.6mph
Average speed: 15.0mph
Calories Burned - 5000
Terrain - Mostly flat
Number of hills between Kidderminster and Telford: Depends who's counting
Key Events: Julian's toilet rescue.

Day 3 - Nige Eats Tarmac

After a good night's rest in Okehampton, we beat the Germans to breakfast, and headed out onto wet roads. Patrick the optimist said "The good news is today's weather is better than tomorrow". After a few miles, the rain started coming down, and didn't really stop until lunch. At one point, we stopped at the public toilets in Crediton to dry our clothes with the hand dryer.

After fording a few roads that were 4 inches deep in orange water, Patrick's well planned route dragged us up a 16% hill (that's a 1 in 6 in old money).

We met an interesting Morrisons employee, who continually mis-quoted Schwazenegger movies while emptying the (already empty) bins outside the main entrance. "Cybernetic skeleton with living tissue. - that's him isn't it? Isn't it". "Yes" I replied before he approached the next set of customers and started the routine again.

The weather picked up a little as we hammered along the Somerset plains for the next 30 miles. At the 90 mile point, we congratulated ourselves on the good progress, and removed the wet weather gear - it was all looking good...


At 91 miles, we started a huge hill into a fierce headwind. Half way up, the rain started again - heavy at first, then really heavy, then unbelieveably heavy. We stopped and tucked under the trees hoping it would pass quickly. That's when the rain turned to hail...

After it subsided, we still had to cover about 15 miles to Bristol. We were riding on a path as the spray form the heavy traffic on the A38 was so bad - especially with us moving slowly up hill. On the way down, Patrick bunny-hopped his bike back onto the road and sped off downhill.

Nige tried to do the same, but the combination of skinny tyres, slippery roads and a large kerb did not produce a favourable outcome. The front wheel slipped, the bars crossed and the back wheel caught on the kerb. The tarmac approached my face very quickly, but I cleverly used my thumb to prevent certain disfigurement.


Realising I was in the middle of the A38, with my panniers spread around me, I dragged myself out of the middle of the road, and jumped up and down in pain at the side of the road. Luckily, Julian was behind me to witness the incident, and passing motorists signalled to Patrick that we had a "man down". After 5 minutes of shaking, I managed to convince the guys I did not need to be whisked off in a car, and that the trip was still going ahead - I mean, there wasn't even any blood...

The last 14 miles were hell. We were tired, wet, aching, bruised and Bristol seemed so far away. We carried on only because we had to, and after a non-intentional detoure of Bristol hot spots, we arrived at our hotel for the night, where Patrick's wife, Faye, and the boys were there for a little tea and sympathy. Tomorrow has to be better...


Julian's statoids - Day Three
Distance: 107.5 miles
Cumulative distance: 216
Top Speed: 38mph
Average speed: 14.2mph
Calories Burned - 5300
Terrain - Mixed
Key Events: Hail storm, Body in road

Day 2 - Double Penetration

There are two things you should know about cornwall:
1. It is hilly
2. Damn it's hilly.

Our B&B landlord would not serve breakfast before 8.30, so we didn't get the early start we'd hoped for. We slogged the morning away on the rollercoaster ride that is the roads of cornwall, stopping briefly to buy bananas. It was slow going. By lunchtime, we were way behind schedule.

After another hour or so, we were on the A30 which we would soon realise was not going to be fun. Lorries, tractors, coaches and BMWs, all tearing up those insanely long hills at 60 mph more than us. Nige was wearing the hi-viz jacket in the kill zone while Jules and Patrick cut a small hole in the wind.

It was one of those downhill stretches where Nige hit a large chunk of stone that instantly burst both tyres. By the time the other guys realised, they were half a mile away and eventually rode back to help with repairs. The dual carriage way A30 is not a good place to swap 2 inner tubes, but these things happen. After JBs pedal incident yesterday, it has to be Patrick's day tomorrow...

Crossing into Devon, the hills softened a bit, but we were already tired and struggling to keep a solid pace. The highlight of the day had to have been the last 2 miles down into Oakhampton where our B&B was waiting with hot showers and tea making facilities.

Julian's statoids - day two
Distance: 89.75 miles
Top Speed: 42mph
Average speed: 14.3mph
Ride Time (in the saddle):6h 14m
calories burned - 4500
Terrain - Insanely hilly
Two double pinch punctures at the same time

The Big Day (Part 2) - By Jules

we arrived on time and the weather was unexpectedly lovely, we even had to crack open the suncream. Unfortunately we also had to make an emergency stop to the local bike shop, my pedal had been broken by my last minute service at another shop the previous day. never mind the guys in the penzance shop were really helpful and friendly and we were back on the road about an hour after the train arrival.

About 12 very hilly miles later we got to Land's End, it was beautiful you could see for miles, we took a few pictures and chatted to guy who had just finished a heavily detoured JOGLE. he had been on his own since April and seemed a little bit lonely.

As it was already near 6pm we decided to head for Hayle (about 20 miles). Apart from one near death experiance with a national express coach, which i'm still not ready to talk about we got to our B&B between Hayle and St Ives. Not a bad place, clean good bike storage and the sugestion of a good full english.

we headed to St Ives for dinner, along the beach; again some stunning views. Sorry no camera though, so no pictures of this. A good meal at a posh burger place and a longish walk back and its game over.

Julian's statoids - day one
Distance: 18.82 miles
Top Speed: 35mph
Average speed: 14.7mph
Ride Time (in the saddle):1.16 hours
calories burned - 1100
Terrain - very hilly
One broken bike pedal
One Near Death Experience

The Big Day (Part 1)

Early start, a few last minute chores, then throw the bike and bags in the car and head round to JB's place. We filled the water bottles, clipped on the panniers and set off on the 5 miles to reading station.

Fully loaded, our "lightweight" road bikes started to feel like super tankers. Getting moving reminded me of the truck-pull event in World's Strongest Man. Still, I guess we'll get used to it.

Within 10 minutes, my trip computer had fallen off the bars and skidded across the road during rush hour traffic. JB's right pedal was also making a nasty clicking noise and spitting out his cleat at random moments. This was not the start we were looking for.

Arriving at Reading station, a bunch of Bankers were making lots of noise outside. No really, some Barclays employees were "cycling LEJOG" on exercise bikes. What about the hills and the wind resistance? Still, we had a chat, and they mentioned our trip over their PA. We took a couple of pictures, downed a latte and headed through to the platform.

The Night Before

The training ride last weekend was fab - glorious weather, great scenery and 2 solid days in the saddle. We marvelled at just how fine the weather was, as Julian revealed his true knowledge of all things meteorological. "It should break on Monday, but by the end of next week, it'll get better again and then we're looking at a locked in weather system".

Now, I'm reliably informed that when it comes to martial arts, Julian could 'take me down', and as a C++ programmer he's pretty handy too. However, when it comes to predicting the weather, he was talking bo**ox.

This evening was just like the night before going abroad - worrying that you've packed everything you need, but with the added pressure of a 2 pannier luggage limit and the knowledge that every added item would have to be dragged up hill and down dale for 900 miles. I decided to do without that extra pair of socks.

A good meal, a nice hot bath and an early night was just what I needed, and as they say, 2 out of 3 ain't bad.