Allowed out … day 17 & 18

Miles today: 194

Miles so far: 2905

Miles tomorrow: 140 estimated

Total miles for the trip: 3050+ Pretty good without actually leaving the island of Great Britain - oh, except for Bute, Mull, Staffa (no bike involved) and Skye. So we did leave the island!

Eric got a bit of drenching on his way home today but got there safely, if a bit soggy. Rob and I took a look at the weather forecast and noted that west was best. So rather than heading south, we went back into Wales chasing the blue(ish) skies. We were largely successful and by the time we turned back to make our respective journeys tomorrow possible, the rain had just about dissipated or moved north east.

Even I’m appalled - I’ve just written an entire paragraph about the weather!

Anyway first coffee stop this time was actually in Worcester city centre - MBC count was actually zero. Picture of Worcester Cathedral, from outside our hotel, courtesy of Eric, before he has a go at me.

More to my liking and after less than 50 miles we stopped again in the charming Hay on Wye for second breakfast. Having restricted ourselves to a croissant in Worcester, a bacon roll was required. That really is the last processed meat I eat for a while. But I’ve said that before!

On the way into Hay, we crosed the rather charming toll bridge at Whitney - £1 to cross, unless you are on a motorbike and can doge the barrier - it was called a motorbike lane, honest.

Hay is a lovely little place, famous of course for its book festival, or is it just “festival”. Not sure, but more second hand bookshops than you can shake a stick at, all of which we ignored - way too cultural. I haven’t actually opened my novel I brought with me, too much time talking total rubbish and playing stupid card games for that. And whilst we are on the subject Eric is claiming (as well as being the King of Scotland) to retain his “shithead” championship (its a card game, I’m not swearing) on the grounds that despite the fact he came third, Rob and I drew, so neither of us has the right to usurp his status. Sounds like bo**ocks but we have to indulge him occasionally so he is King of Scotland and remains shithead champion. PS Eric, Hay one Wye has got castle with the oldest gateway in … the world (possibly, can’t remember). That’s enough to get you back here. And it reopens later this year.

However his victory at cards may turn out to be pyrrhic because we easily found his replacement in Hay on Wye for future trips.

From Hay, we headed through the magnificent Brecon Beacons, where we of course managed an “its all about the bikes” picture of wild moorlands and not much else.

We then took a serious turn and visited the memorial top the Aberfan disaster in 1966. A rather moving memorial, built over exactly the same ground as the school felt a somewhat contrast to Locekrbie of a few days ago. But what do I know.

The M4 sadly beckoned (can a motorway beckon you, sadly or otherwise?) from there but we managed to ignore its siren (by doing a few extra miles) and headed up to the top of the valleys (needs to be read in a Welsh accent) and via Monmouth, down the Wye valley. Haven’t we been here already? Yes, we were going round in circles as usual.

A bit of pain in the arse driving round Bristol on the M5 did eventually lead us to the Clifton Suspension Bridge, where we were slightly disappointed to find it was build by Isambard Kingdom Brunel, rather than Thomas Telford. Cos we were thinking of patenting a TT trail - hmm, maybe we are too late, the Isle of Man have got that.

But it did allow us some final silly selfies and then a tortuous route around Bristol to our hotel for the last night in Wells, where we might finally get to visit a cathedral that hasn’t fallen down!

Our last night was a sober, down beat affair without Eric - no it wasn’t! It was as stupid as all the others, but did on this occasion include a fabulous Italian meal (not added to the bill Eric) at which the chef obviously took exception to me asking for my puttanesca having a little extra chili in it - he nearly blew my head off and is probably still either laughing his socks off or seriously insulted by my impudence! Or possibly both.

Well thats it! We have had an amazing trip. Other than Eric getting soaked today we have really only seen significant rain twice in two and a half weeks - which given that we have spent most of it in Scotland is remarkable. The roads and sights in Scotland have rewarded us like no other part of the British Isles could - with the possible exception of the west coast of Ireland - which we will attempt to explore next year.

Tomorrow, will be a short trip down to Devon for Rob to see friends and for me a meander across Somerset, Wiltshire and Hampshire to home. As usual I won’t blog from home so this is the last of this trip.

We have laughed more than it is decent to do, eaten more than is healthy and sampled some of Scotlands finest product.

Thank you Eric and Rob for being such fabulous companions and for enjoying the getting lost in the highland just as much as me. Whatever else we do we actually look after each other - always.

So here is to the next time…

And (you didn’t think I had finished?) as its all about the bikes, I’ll close with this picture from Mull. What a magical place.

Or perhaps this selfie from Near Ullapool. What a bunch of fools.

That really is it, time for bed. Just 140 miles to go…