Don was still not feeling 100% so very sensibly decided not to cycle yesterday. We agreed that he would track me by train and meet me tonight in Fenwick, near Kilmarnock. So that meant two days on the bike on my own, without his jovial banter and witty repartee to keep me going.
As my parents live beside Cumbrian Way, which is a national cycle route, I foolishly thought it would be a good plan to follow this route through the town centre and up towards Gretna. I would not recommend this strategy to other cyclists. The signposted route started out fine and took me down towards the castle. It then ended up on the pavement with no clear markings to show where the pedestrians are supposed to go and where the cyclists are supposed to go, and headed off down a back street behind the railway line. When I found myself round the back of the sewage works I realised that something was wrong, and retraced my steps, to find a tiny arrow on a lamp post directing me down an alley, under the railway, and out into the middle of a park, with no signs. I pedalled across the grass and managed to find another sign. This went on for half an hour, and I eventually ended up at the main bridge over the River Eden, which I could have reached in about 10 minutes by road if I'd gone straight there. Really, Carlisle City Council (assuming they are responsible for cycle routes) should get their act together, or not bother with cycle routes at all. It was a bit better from then on, and I was soon in Gretna, celebrating the crossing of England.
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I carried on following the cycle route through Dumfries & Galloway, skirting the Solway Firth as far as Arran. Without Don to distract me there was ample time to stop and look at the birds on the estuary, although in a gusty wind with no scope this was a bit tricky and I only managed a few easy ticks like Oystercatcher and Curlew. On the approach to Annan, I was intrigued by a sign promising The Devil's Porridge, but no, this was not an item off the Little Chef breakfast menu but the the raw ingredients for making cordite, and it turns out that during WW1 the area between Gretna and Eastriggs (about 9 miles by 2 miles) was one gigantic munitions factory turning out tons of explosives. The actual recipe (but don't try this at home unless you're wearing wellies and rubber overalls) is:
Nitroglycerine 48.5%
Nitrocellulose 45.5%
Mineral Jelly 6.0%
It was mixed by hand by an imported workforce of thousands of women just like this:
The only downside to my visit was the fact that when I asked how much the admission was the woman selling the tickets said it depended if I was under 60 or not. Now I may have aged somewhat with the stress of sharing sleeping accommodation with other men and keeping Don out of mischief, but I don't think anyone with their faculties intact would think I was quite pensionable yet. Anyway, she made me a nice cup of coffee so I forgave her (kind of).
It started raining after Annan, and continued in this vein for the rest of the day. What's more, with the cross country route I'd opted for (bypassing Dumfries) I didn't pass a cafe or pub, for over 3 hours, so when I came across a welcoming-looking hostelry at Auldgirth I pulled over to get something to eat. It was closed. I wheeled my bike into the doorway to get out of the rain and ate a soggy gluten-free chocolate wafer. It tasted soggy and gluten-free. There were still 12 miles or so till Moniaive so I'd given up hope of finding anywhere to stop, but mirabile dictu there was a cafe just down the road, and I spent a happy half hour with an instant coffee, a scone, and last Wednesday's edition of The Archers. I set off up the road to Moniaive with the earphones in listening to my last Spotify playlist. It was good to hear some music for the first time in nearly a fortnight.
It was good to catch up with Tim and Ruth (my brother and sister-in-law) and my favourite niece Morvern! I got to read a bedtime story about a princess and a frog (bit dodgy from an ethical point of view, but she seemed to enjoy it), and Tim and I went to the pub later for a couple of pints and a few games of pool.
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| Tim and Morvern |
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