Monday 03.09.2018

Galson - Button of Lewis -Stornaway

This is another delightful B and B with magnificent views of the sea and coastline which was entirely obliterated yesterday on our arrival. (Absolutely soaked). After such a difficult day, we passed a jovial evening in the company of our fellow guests of whom there were four at the meal table. The fifth guest, Keith, another cyclist had eaten earlier. He made up for his absence of the evening, with his very entertaining banter at breakfast.

Much of our gear was either soggy or downright wet but in total contrast to yesterday, the weather was set very fair so we wore our soggies and wrapped wets in plastic bags.

The Butt of Lewis was devoid of any sustaining cafe but magnificent ,massive rocks, a seething blue sea and a couple of seals (see photos, but not of the seals, they were too elusive).Then it was heads down for Stornoway. We stopped for a brief chat with Keith who had left after us so he was heading north as we were now heading south. We do hope to see him again. The ride was reminiscent of Trefil moors only much more extensive, surrounded as we were by peat bog and following a single road heading eastward into the distance. Quite a lot of traffic and a single cafe at the fuel station where we supped coffee and were entertained by the chef who was really a surfer.

Stornoway was something of a shock - traffic jams, school buses, traffic lights and a multitude of folk. The ferry port was easy to find - where land meets sea. So far, so good. Now for accommodation! Al did his best but everywhere was full! Just as we had resigned ourselves to a night in the tent if we could find the campsite, we acquired the last room in the most expensive hotel in town. Good job really as Al’s cough didn’t need a damp night. An added advantage was that food was served in the bar and quite by chance, Keith turned up so we shared the evening. He was braving the campsite - good man. So a fine end to the day.

Tuesday 04.09.2018

This was to be a day of rest as we had the ferry to catch in the afternoon which would not get us to Ullapool until early evening. We thought a lie in and a leisurely morning suited the mood but our hotel room was really not conducive to lolling for any hour, never mind a morning. I consider that we are not over demanding regarding accommodation working on the premise that you get what you pay for. This was a false premise in the case of the Royal: the staff were delightful and the food was good but the room was shi………...Due to an absence of heating, the bathroom and the bedroom windows were running with condensation. Everything we had hung was very damp. Had we been residents of a hostel, the facilities would have been adequate but in the poshest hotel in Ullapool, I don’t think so.

Thus we were quite early for the ferry which allowed us time to swap stories with other bikers waiting for the same ferry. At least two couples had been bussed from Tarbert as the ferries for Uig were not running and so when they reached Ullapool, they had to undertake a second bus ride to Skye. The ferry company had provided the transport but the inconvenience was something else! As a result of the cancellations from Tarbert, our ferry to Ullapool was choc a bloc. Bikes were lifted over already packed cars and were finally squidged in. The poor lady in the car parked by the bikes was completely unable to open the drivers door to make her exit.

Imagine our delight when after a five minute pedal we arrived at our fantastic B and B. It could not have been more different from the previous night. It was called bijou and unlike many others claiming the description, it had everything and more - it even had a cafetier in the bedroom with proper coffee. It had been carefully and tastefully renovated and Terry and Shirley were warm and cheerful.

We hadn’t expected Ullapool to be a hive of activity but we could not have been more wrong. What was worse was that all these people expected to be fed by too few eating establishments. Thus, the waiting time for our table was an hour and a half! Tummy touching back time! He warned, if you visit Ullapool, book a table!

Wednesday 05.09.2018

Had a fabulous breakfast and a long chat with Terry about his motives for moving from the south of England to the north of Scotland. He was clearly delighted with his choice. We were unrushed this fine morning as we intended to allow the traffic from the incoming ferry, time to be on their way. The road is single file in each direction and so two side loaded bikes have the propensity to cause a bit of a following queue of impatient drivers. The hill onto the moors was long but quiet and the plateau wild and barren: devoid even of sheep. It was relatively traffic free until we got nearer to Inverness. Not a lot of fun for a few kilometres while we searched for our turning into something less busy. Finally, it appeared and with some relief, we left the big stuff.

It had been quite a tiring day but the fatigue had crept up on us and I managed an undignified fall, having misjudged the angle of a pile of gravel at the side of the road. A bit hurty! In our minds we were looking for the Ord pub - in fact what we found was Ord House Hotel. A real gentleman’s residence with a history going back three hundred years. The host who welcomed us may have been part of that history! This was shabby chic which had over the years, forgotten the chic. Not quite what we had planned but neither of us was going to pedal back along the mile long track to search for the pub!