The short crossing with a small bus boat to Campbeltown in Kintyre/Scotland has not become a laughing stock. The storm, Wind force 4.7, which had been announced for the evening, arrived as early as late afternoon and the sea was wild. As a result, the boat coming from Campbeltown was over half an hour late. Travellers were asked to wait 15 minutes before departure at the marina gate, so that waiting time was extended to three quarters of an hour, without any shelter nearby. Just waiting in wind and rain.
After sailing off, my stomach, with my eyes fixed tightly on a fixed point on the horizon, made the violent jerking and rocking of the little boat held out for about an hour. When we reached around the Mull of Kintyre sailed, the skipper warned that it was going to get worse because of strong currents around the land point, and then the fence was down and the puke sack be hauled upstairs for the rest of the journey. Due to the heavy weather, the crossing then took three-quarters of an hour longer than planned, which I did not like at all this time.
Afterwards, the skipper said he had doubted whether to sail at Ballycastle, it was side/board stormy With such a small bus boat. And on the internet I read: ' Notoriously strong currents plague the tip of the Kintyre Peninsula creating a hazard to unmotorised craft and virtually impossible for distance swimmers.' My insides knew it, those 'strong currents'. On the next crossing, I will happily cycle 100 km further to a port with a large and heavy ferry with a hold full of trucks holding it steady....
All's well that ends well: my bike did not fly off the back deck and there was a bed free in Campbeltown Bunk House, so I spent the night under a dry roof.
Maybe I've had the worst in Scotland now, weather-wise, but I guess that's wishfull thinking....
I wisely kept my first drive in Scotland short. The first campsite after Campbeltown was in Carradale, at barely 25 km. The next one at 72 km. That seemed a bit far to start on this tougher course, with longer inclines and yet again bits of 15% in between, my absolute climbing limit which I can only sustain for a few tens of metres. And it was also quite warm for the first time today, +20°. Sweating uphill. On the way I passed beautiful beaches. The campsite itself is right next to a large sandy beach, but swimming was out of the question. It was still far too cold for me.
Coastal rock formations near Carradale
Today's cycling was thankfully a bit better than yesterday. The first section on a 'single track road' went up and down violently, each time a steep dip to sea level to cross a babbling river, then steeply up out of the valley to take the next hill. But the legs were stronger today, I think that seasickness was still playing some tricks on me yesterday. It was chilly and misty until 3pm, only then did the sun break through.
From the A83 towards Tarbert the route, as usual on main roads, was much faster and less steep. Tarbert is a pleasant town with lots of pubs and hotels. I put another 2 kg parcel in the post to my neighbour there: some books I bought on the road and some more clothes I can spare. Every kilogram counts on a mountainous route. This weight loss was quickly offset by the provisions I stocked up on at the co-op. About four kilos: that is needed here because the shops are far apart. Yesterday in Carradale, there was no shop at all and I had to go out for dinner in the evening. Not good for the budget....
Tonight I am in the very comfortable Backpackers hostel in Inverneill, with very friendly people. It was a nice, quiet evening and I made another stroll in the hills overlooking the sea.
Tarbert
An unexpectedly tough but very engaging day of cycling. The ride started right along the coast.
At Adrishaig I saw a sluice, wondering what could be sluicing from the mountains. Turned out there a few metres above the A83, but invisible from the roadway, was the beautiful 'Crinan Canal' to run parallel to the road, with a nice bike path next to it. It became in 1801 dug To make a crossing from west to east across the Argyll peninsula create. It suffered several dike breaches and nuisance from water and stones from the mountains. The locks are pushed open by the boaters themselves, as was the case with Canal 6 to Bath. That was about 15 km of pure enjoyment by bike alongside the canal.
This was followed by the crossing of the 'Moine Morr' or 'The Great Moss', a giant swampy peat plain bordered by hills that formed after the ice age 10,000 years ago. A dead straight road through the deserted plain offered me an opportunity to practice half an hour of 'cycling meditation'. That did some good.
Shortly after leaving this beautiful nature reserve, another series of cairns (cairns), megaliths and stone circles spread over a long distance in the Kilmartin Glen. I couldn't help but visit the most beautiful one and linger there for a while to feel the magical atmosphere there.
The Nether Largie Standing Stones are arranged to form lines at the winter solstice sunrise and spring and autumn equinoxes. In a sheep pasture a little further away, there was also an upright stone in a straight line with two stones of the main monument. This can more or less be seen in the photos.
The two 'Templewood' stone circles on top of a cairn were smaller than those in Ireland, but beautifully preserved. At the edge of the grand circle was a child's grave.
These grave monuments would be from the Bronze Age dating. It is assumed that the 'Metal knowledge' transferred from Ireland to Scotland became. In times when there were no patents and such...
Meanwhile, the afternoon was already fairly advanced and I had to take a long 30km ride on a single track road alongside Loch Awe start of which the second part was going to be tough, I had seen on the profile sketch on Google Maps. And tough it did indeed get, with three long climbs. In total, I still had to 'bike push' about six times on +15% slopes.
Before the last hill, I briefly considered wild camping, but threatening dark grey storm clouds pushed me over that last hill anyway before descending at length to a campsite a little past Taynuilt, a 3km diversions from the direction of Oban.
By 8pm I got there, well tired, and then the icy shower: that British Caravan and Motorhome Club campsite takes no tent campers to because they do not have a permit for that. My arguments that it was already late, that I was cycling very tired and would leave early the next morning were to no avail. So the weakest campers are coldly abandoned by that camping association. When I compare that attitude with that of the elderly Irish lady in Ballybunion, who also only had a permit for fixed mobile homes but let me in anyway and gave me the key to a private toilet.... I am going to visit the campsites of the Trying to avoid British Caravan and Motorhome Club as much as possible, such an unsympathetic attitude bugs me.
So I had to get back on the bike and make a right turn towards Oban. On the way there were only 3 and 4-star hotels and B&Bs, but at Oban Youth Hostel they luckily had a bed free, and the reception remained open all night.
That late 25km drive to Oban did give me some nice sunset photos at Loch Etive. Every disadvantage has its advantage. Despite the advanced hour, I couldn't resist lingering there for a few minutes and enjoying the peace and quiet. But the dinner hour had long passed and a growling stomach propelled me onward again.
At the youth hostel, when I had to lug my pannier with personal belongings up two more flights of stairs, I only felt how tired I was in my legs....
Thursday in Oban I'll try to have my bike thoroughly checked again. Everything still works fine now, but during steep diving descents I'd rather not have my brake cables, which have now digested almost 3,000 km of hilly terrain, fail... Brake cables I can't replace (yet).
Loch Etive near Oban
Strolling around in summer weather today Oban, decided that through the Western Hebrides cycle north and bought all the necessary ferry tickets for that. Thirty pounds for all crossings, not too bad. The bike can come along for free. Leaving tomorrow afternoon in Oban and after x-number of days of cycling on the Hebrides, I'll go at Ullapool back onto the mainland.
Oban originated as a fishing village, and this is still noticeable with its numerous fish eateries.
About the Columba Cathedral: Columba is a 6th-century Christianised Celtic saint whom I also encountered several times in Ireland. At the IOSAS Celtic prayer centre in Donegal, I saw in a film about his life that, having taken a stubborn stance in a conflict that subsequently led to much bloodshed among the population, he banished himself to Iona, a tiny island near Oban, right next to the Isle of Mull, and there a monastery founded. These are no tales, as evidenced by the monastery that still stands there.
The painting shows pagan druids chasing Columba away from Loch Ness after he visited King Brude in Inverness. Fascinating, those early links between Celtic Ireland and Pictish Scotland.
Tomorrow morning at 10am, take the bike to the bike shop. At 13:30, the boat leaves for Castlebay on the island Barra. Then 'island hopping' in the Hebrides.
Oban
16 September: Opening the door at Diamondway Buddhist Centre in Tallinn The centre's meditation sessions are open
