I woke up to find my ankles definitely free and not tied between two blocks of wood and breathed a sigh of relief. After a filling breakfast (Strathy does serve food on a Tuesday just in case you were wondering) and putting on clothes that were still damp we headed out to complete the first leg of the day; a rolling 20 mile ride to Thurso. The rain was falling but wasn’t too heavy and as we neared the largest town in the Highlands we were beginning to dry off. We cycled down some potholed roads into the centre of the town, their condition being so bad that it made me wonder whether there had been a recent meteorite storm here. We decided to check in at our hotel and leave our pannier bags before cycling on as the plan was to get to John O’ Groats and back.
After a quick snack we were back on our bikes, now at least 7kg lighter. The difference was enormous, it was like being on the best diet ever and we appreciated it all the more when we headed north out of Thurso up a long, relentless hill. The hill was so vertical in fact that my front light fell off my bike as we were ascending. I didn’t even have the breath to whisper ‘Fuck’ and after a couple of days of sustained cycling I wasn’t sure that if I stopped, I would be able to get going again so I cycled on. I thought I might have a chance of picking it up on the return trip later in the day, albeit I might be picking up a million pieces of run-over front light.
What goes up must come down and as we turned back towards the coast there were a series of sharp descents on roads where the seal had partially come away, meaning a bumpy ride. It was at this point another piece of cycling equipment failed when my cycle computer switched from displaying numbers to what I can only describe as Klingon. It was comforting to know that my average speed down this series of hills was wa’maH Soch (17mph). Sadly a few minutes later the rain started getting heavier and my cycle computer went off altogether. It was clearly not Highlands-proof and had only lasted two days.
On we went towards John O’ Groats as the weather started lightening up and the rain finally ceased. At this point I was just hoping no more bits would fall off my bike and that I didn’t end up at the famous sign on a unicycle with no brakes. Thankfully I didn’t and we rolled down the final hill to the coast.
After the obligatory photo we had some lunch (soup, for a change) and we decided to head east just a couple more miles to a lighthouse that is slightly more north than the sign. The hotelier at Thurso had told us it was worth the trip as there were some great views of the cliffs there. What she didn’t tell us is that there is a big descent past John O’ Groats before an utter bastard of a hill up to the lighthouse. Still it was worth it.
The final leg of today’s cycling would be the return trip to Thurso. We had hoped for the weather to stay dry and relatively calm. Unfortunately as we turned around to head back we saw clouds in the direction we were heading which can only be described as black and stormy. A fantastic headwind ensured our tired legs would be challenged as the storm whipped its way towards us. We were certainly being treated to all of the elements in our time in Scotland.
The rain did ease off as the storm passed over us as we neared Thurso. I couldn’t see my front bike light anywhere though, somewhat ironically as it was getting darker and I needed light to be able to see it. As we descended back down the hill into Thurso the traffic started getting heavier and I passed over a sharp and unavoidable bump, which knocked my front brakes out above the tyre. Now, even if you only have a rudimentary understanding of physics, you will probably realise that not having front brakes while descending a steep hill in increasingly busy traffic is a BAD thing. Thankfully, I managed to slow down using a combination of my overworked back brake and my foot before getting to the bottom and pulling over. John helped me ‘pop’ them back in to get us back to the hotel where we would have a better look.
After changing we headed out for some tea, which was going to be anything except soup. We walked into a nice-looking restaurant at 8.25pm (this is an important point) and through the doors into the dining room. We saw a waiter on the other side of the restaurant look at us and then waltz into the kitchen. Odd, I thought, traditionally waiters in restaurants are there to help you. Maybe he was just really busy. We sat down and started looking at the menu. The waiter came back through the kitchen door, looked at us and said ‘Two seconds guys.’ Okay, no problem. When he came back and towards the kitchen, he again said ‘Just two seconds.’ Then he disappeared again. Eventually, about 5 minutes later, he came back and asked ‘Did you ring the bell?’ Er, no. What the fuck has the bell got to do with anything? Is it like a rite of passage to eat here. Are you the bell? He went on, ‘Ah we close at 8.30.’ We were here at 8.30, but you spent five minutes skating past us singing ‘Two seconds’ like it was a mantra. I didn’t say this of course, John and I just looked at each other, laughed and got off. I was beginning to wonder if we had some kind of food curse placed on us after Strathy and now this.
If we did, the curse must have worn off shortly after Mr Two Seconds. We found a cheap and cheerful Indian restaurant just around the corner which didn’t have a strict curfew on when they could and couldn’t serve food. It was lovely and we didn’t have to ring a bell or anything. We just had a nice, normal meal and gave our money to normal, nice people and waddled back to the hotel in good spirits. Tomorrow we were to leave the UK mainland and head to the Orkneys, something which excited us both as we were heading to our spiritual home. To find out why, you will have to wait until next time. Just two seconds.
Daniel McChrystal 