Snacks on the beach
Ullapool to Lairg, 24th - 26th August
I took a day off the bike in Ullapool, a much-needed break. Life indoors felt like such luxury, with a shower, washing machine, kitchen, and big Tesco at my disposal. It's the little things, like cooking in a frying pan and being able to wash it in a sink with running water. The village itself was nice enough, too, with a bookshop and a cute little local museum. With just a few more days in Scotland before I'd need to return to London (and then on to India), I also took some time to figure out where I'd ride to next before taking the train south. The hostel staff were great, giving me advice on which roads were quieter and more beautiful. They were cyclists themselves, which was no surprise - everyone around here is into the outdoors. It seemed like all of the other hostel guests were hikers, mostly travelling by car. I chatted with one man in his eighties who'd climbed mountains all over the world and was now going to the Hebrides for the fourteenth (!) time.
The sunny streak of the past few days had ended, and we were back to regularly scheduled Scottish weather: weak sun, clouds, and drizzle throughout the day. Back on my bike again on Sunday, I sometimes didn't feel like cycling so much as sitting down with a book and some tea (I settled for a book and Nutella instead). The landscapes were still pretty and the singletrack quiet, but the overcast sky brought me down, as did the ever-present threat of midges whenever I wanted to take a break. Thankfully, I had enough flexibility in my plans to take it easy, and I stopped in the afternoon in the village of Lochinver, which I'd been told was quite pretty.
I skilfully managed to avoid the pretty parts, looking for a camping spot around the industrial harbour area and eventually finding a spot partway up a hill next to a pile of rubble. That was quite fun, actually - I enjoy my silly camping spots, and this one felt daringly close to civilisation while still being safely out of sight. One local did notice me but turned out to be very friendly, advising me that I could access a toilet and shower which were normally for the use of sailors, and saying I could ask him for any help, all while maintaining a polite distance and leaving me alone otherwise to eat my rice and dal. I couldn't have wished for a better neighbour.
The sun returned on Monday, making me much happier although also making me cover less distance. It was warm enough for me to happily spend some time sitting on a lochside beach and eating snacks in the sun, and windy enought to take blessedly midge-free breaks when I wanted. I even managed to shower in the morning after sneaking into the harbourmaster's building.
My last camping spot in Scotland was quite remote, off a logging road, and had a lovely view of the hills, but was superbly let down by the swarms of midges, which had appeared with a vengeance after being repulsed by the wind all day. You can't win them all, and I think I've been fairly lucky overall. In the past few weeks I've become quite accustomed to being in the Highlands, and almost desensitized to the daily beautiful landscapes around me. Of course there are sparkling lochs next to me and mountains in the distance - how else would it be? Sunday's gloom might have helped me appreciate it a bit more by contrast, but it's still hard to believe that I'm leaving it all behind soon. I'd already seen the last of the coast after leaving Lochinver, and Monday would be my last night camping in Scotland. My time here has been dominated by wild camping and solitude; quite the opposite of what's coming in India, where I won't even bring a tent.
With that, I had reached my last day in the Highlands, with a half-day ride to Lairg to catch the train down to Inverness. It was the cutest little train, too, with just two carriages, and pulled into the station at an absolute crawl. Not only did I make eye contact with the driver (as the only person waiting on the platform), it was slow enough to become awkward. On board the train - diesel powered, of course - the atmosphere really felt more like a local bus, with a friendly ticket inspector and extremely Scottish locals.
From Inverness, I was back in the world of civilisation. My next trains took me through a sort of reverse summary of my earlier journey: Aviemore, Dalwhinnie, Pitlochry, Perth, and finally Edinburgh, where I stayed a night with the same friend I'd seen at the start of the month, on the first day of the Fringe. Now the Fringe was over, but every wall was still plastered in ridiculous show posters. No time for nostalgia, though; the next morning I was on the train from Edinburgh to London. I'll be back home for one busy week (including packing my bike to fly) before starting a new chapter in September: India.
