Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Thursday, August 24, 2006
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Vigeland Park, Oslo
Vigeland Park in Oslo is the home of almost 200 bronze and granite life-size figures created by the scupltor Gustav Vigeland in the first half of the 20th century, and probably the most popular tourist attraction in Oslo. Almost as interesting are the tourists themselves, arrriving in their hundreds as the tour ships disgorge their passengers into coaches, which transport them en masse to Vigeland Park, their principal prop being the compact digital camera.
Sunday, August 20, 2006
Journey's End, 18th August
With a foaming pint of Tennent's before him, and no more cycling for a while, Liam relaxes on our last CalMac ferry, from Craignure on Mull back to Oban on the mainland. We have cycled a total of 275 miles in 6 days, with no major mechanical problems with the bikes. The paniers slowed us down considerably, especially on the steeper climbs yesterday, and we each had rear wheel punctures due the excess weight on the back, but my broken cleat was the only serious mishap. We consider the trip a total success, although the margins for mechanical failure must have been quite narrow at times, as our bikes are not designed for touring, and they have stood up to some tough punishment, particularly on Day One on the Uists, when we thundered over cattle-grids without a care in the world. By Wednesday, we dismounted and conscientiously pushed over each one. Photographically, I've not done anything like the number of pictures I expected to, and I've concluded that trying to combine a serious documentary photography project wih cycling is not feasible, as the logistics of the journey, as well as the physical and mental effort involved, occupied most of our waking hours. The rest of the time, we squandered.
What's the Story,Tobermory?
The painted harbour front cottages of Tobermory, now also known as Balamory in the children's TV show. We did make extensive plans last night to record a video of Liam at some Balamory locations, for the amusement of his children, but today all we seem to have managed is this. Also consigned to the dustbin of history is the plan to do a 40 mile circuit of Ben More, settling instead for a straightforward 21 mile coastal amble to Craignure, the ferry port back to Oban.
Men in Yellow, 16th August
An hour to kill before the last ferry of the day speeds us to the bright lights of Tobermory after the toughest day's cycling of the trip. We left Skye this morning on the 8.50 ferry, arriving at Mallaig on the mainland at 9.15, just in time for breakfast at the Fishermen's Mission, which turned out to be a poor substitute for the CalMac version. There was a display of black & white photographs of Mallaig fishermen, and in the bookshop I decide against buying The Life & Times of Saddam Hussein for 50p as a present for Liam, as I am certain he will not consider it worthy of panier-space. We leave Mallaig, I immediately get a flat tyre, lose Liam for half an hour before he notices, cross various nasty steep headlands, follow the banks of sea-lochs, have lunch at Fergie's Bar, and finally arrive at Kilchoan at 5.00 pm, just misssing the 4.45 ferry. Our quest for tea or coffee ends in bitter disappointment, so we settle for Lucozade and a Magnum Double Caramel.
Room With a View
Having cycled 60 miles over some very tough terrain, in miserable weather, Liam is distinctly unimpressed with the waiting room facilities at Kilchoan on the Ardnamurchan peninsula, which resemble an unused sauna. We've kept the jokes going pretty much all the way, but they're wearing a bit thin by now. However, things will soon be looking up, as tonight we have the luxury of Ivybank B & B in Tobermory to look forward to, so for once we're not sharing a dormitory wirth six other sweaty blokes. Although I suspect they get the worst of the arrangement, for reasons I need not dwell on here.
Armadale
View of the Knoydart peninsula on the mainland from Armadale. I thought I'd be doing more pictures like this, but quite often the weather isn't very good, or the light isn't right, or I have some other excuse for not getting the camera out of whichever panier I have stuffed it in, under a pair of festering cycling shorts. The truth is it has become almost impossible to think about anything else while we are actually cycling, and it just doesn't seem reasonable to keep grinding to a halt to take a couple of snaps. Once we stop cycling for the day, the main priority becomes finding something reasonably clean to wear, and a suitable establishment to refuel before the following day's exertions.
The Magnificent Two
With a couple of hours before the hostel opens for the night, there is time for another photo-opportunity in between visits to the bar at the Ardvasar Inn. There's not much else to do in the village of Ardvasar, and our one disappointment concerns the harbourside restaurant advertised in the Rough Guide as 'The Pasta Shed". Having conjured up mental images of steaming plates piled high with mounds of tagliatelle, to sustain us on the long mountainous journey tomorrow, it appears that the eatery is now simply 'The Shed', and pasta is no longer on the menu in any shape or form. Fortunately, the Ardvasar Inn offers a range of reasonably priced dishes to fulfill our needs.
View? What View?
Once again, Liam's demeanour is a reliable barometer of the current state of the tour. Arriving ahead of schedule at Armadale, we are delighted to discover the village possesses a pub with a pool table, the Ardvasar Inn. Simultaneously, we agree to spend a convivial evening there, enjoying an excellent meal, washed down with copious amounts of the excellent products of the Tennent's brewery. This turns out to be one of the best ideas we have had.
The Garden of Skye, 15th August
After 2 nights on Skye, we are heading to Armadale on the Sleat peninsula, cycling in perfect conditions on a good road for once. I can't really explain why there aren't more pictures of Skye, but it may be something to do with the amount of single malt whiskies we were introduced to by a couple of 'experts' who turned out to be itinerant folk-singers on their way to Lewis. We did a very enjoyable ride round the top end of the Trottternish peninsula on Sunday afternoon, followed by a jaunt down to Portree on Monday. Unfortunately, one of my brand new Wellgo pedal cleats, purchased for £50 on Friday , has parted company with the shoe, so I am no longer locked into the pedal. Roadside repairs have been carried out, but it looks pretty terminal. Still manage to record the speed record for the trip of 37mph on this stretch or road.
Farewell to the Western Isles, 13th August
After consulting the CalMac timetable, we realize that there is an alternative to Plan A. We decide to give Harris and Lewis a miss, as it's Sunday and the chances of getting any bodily sustenance today are slim to say the least, not to mention a serious mountain traverse followed by another 60 miles, so we take the Lochmaddy ferry to Uig on Skye. Unfortunately, this means retracing our last 12 miles from last night, but it's a small price to pay, as the CalMac breakfast is the perfect start to the day, and the much smaller vessel which crosses the Sound of Harris appears to have no cooking facilities. Liam's expression is once again a clear indicator of the status of the trip - with a black pudding, 2 rashers, and 2 sausages inside him, it's 8 o'clock and all's well.
A Quiet Night In
Much like Fletcher and Godber in Porridge, we elect for a quiet night in tonight, which may have something to do with the total absence of pubs. The bikes are happy, as this is a vast improvement on their normal accommodation. We are less happy, as the only diversions available consist of the contents of the bookshelf, where Bravo Two Zero is edged out for the literary prize by Jennings & Darbyshire. Once again, I question Liam about the size of hip flask he considers adequate. It's still day one.
Berneray
Having cycled the first 60 miles of the tour, from South Uist, across Benbecula and North Uist to Berneray, the southern cluster of the Outer Hebrides, we are relieved to discover unoccupied beds at Berneray. Our satisfied expressions may have something to do with having just emptied Liam's hip flask. These will shortly be replaced by dissatisfied expressions when we examine the accommodation. We are still in the happy position of wearing reasonably clean kit - this state of affirs will not last for very long. The bikes have held up to the day's rigours very well, with just one puncture between us, and the road surface has been reasonable, not to mention flat, which is the way I like it. Not looking forward to tomorrow's daunting climb on Harris, which must be done in reverse on Monday.
Berneray Sunset
Photography is taking a back seat to cycling, but I took this opportunity to capture the view of the sunset from behind the hostel, looking back to North Uist from Berneray. Seals frolic in the bay, and a snowy owl has been spotted on the Uists today, though I fear for its health if we hear it hooting outside our window tonight. We also spotted large aquatic mammals from the ferry, possibly Minke whales but were not troubled by otters running across our path on the causeway at Benbecula, despite the warning signs.
Berneray Youth Hostel
Drawing a blank at Lochmaddy, we return to Plan A, a night at Berneray Youth Hostel, which takes no advance bookings but does not turn away the weary traveller. The hostel is located on the northernmost tip of Berneray, after passing through the village of Borgh, where according to the Rough Guide, local character Splash McKillop once entertained the Prince of Wales to a story-telling evening, whilst peeling a mound of King Edward potatoes, possible the supplier to the chip van in Lochmaddy. Liam hasn't been inside yet, which is why he looks so cheerful. Later, I will be called to account for the quality of the accommodation, the arrangements for which I have been responsible.
CalMac Ferry, gateway to the Isles
A Caledonian MacBrayne, or CalMac, ferry, with Ben More on the Isle of Mull in the background, heads towards Oban on the mainland. We will make extensive use of CalMac ferries on our tour, having purchased Island Rover passes which allow unlimited ferry travel for eight days. The route we are following has more or less been determined by the CalMac timetable, so the longest voyage is the crossing from Oban to Lochboisdale on South Uist today. At one time there were no ferries between the Outer Hebrides on Sunday, but recently a service between Berneray and Harris has been introduced, allowing us to compile a circular itinerary starting today. Bikes travel free, and as foot passengers, reservations aren't necessary, so we can still change our plans if required.
Haute Cuisine, North Uist Style
After an uneventful 40 miles from Lochboisdale, down the flat landscape of South Uist, over the causeways of Benbecula, we stop off at Lochmaddy on North Uist, with a view to staying here overnight if we find accommodation and sustenance. The description in the Rough Guide conjours up a vision of Las Vegas, so we scan the horizon for glimpses of neon lights and fireworks. Fortunately the chippie van is still open, as everything else is closed. We are seriously tempted by Pizza Crunch, with a Deep Fried Mars Bar to follow, but settle for a large Fish Supper. Having now exhausted Lochmaddy's range of tourist attractions, we decide to continue our journey as planned to Berneray, and take our chances with the youth hostel there, a former crofter's cottage situated on a lonely headland.
Oban to Lochboisdale, 12th August
With a Travelogue project to produce for the MA course in Photojournalism & Documentary Photography I am taking at Bolton Uni, I come up with the idea of a cycling tour of the Western Isles of Scotland. The chances of completing this tour are vastly increased when my brother Liam agrees to join me. Day One, Saturday morning, and we leave Oban in the distance as our first ferry embarks on the 6 hour voyage to Lochboisdale on South Uist in the Outer Hebrides. We plan to cycle up to Berneray today, then cross to Harris and Lewis tomorrow, before heading over to Skye, across to the mainland, over to Mull, then back to Oban. Liam is a very experienced cyclist, and completed L'Etape du Tour last year, whereas I started road cycling a few months ago, and my best effort is 100 miles over a weekend, so it's unknown territory for me, the other unknown factor being how the bikes will handle with the extra weight of the paniers. We have agonised long and hard about what essential kit must be carried, and what can safely be left out. I have an extra bag containing NutraGrain Elevenses, and Liam has a hip flask containing whisky. We fear most Sunday on Harris and Lewis, when swings are chained in the park, hanging out washing is outlawed, and the chances of a pint of heavy and a Scotch pie are less than nil. Liam's thoughtful, almost wistful expression seems to convey this complex mix of emotions.
Sunday, July 30, 2006
Puente Nuevo, Ronda
The Puente Nuevo spans the El Tajo gorge, which divides the old town of Ronda, famous for its spectacular mountain setting, and its associations with Ernest Hemingway and Orson Welles, afficiandos of the bullfight, and who both spent time at the bullring here, dating back to 1785 and the oldest in Spain.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
