Common questions and comments

These are questions and comments directed towards us more than once in the last two months or so (with attendant answers... some of which have been sub-vocal).

Are you on a gap year?
No, despite looking 22 we are in fact 30 and rapidly heading for decreptitude.

Will you get to x, y or z?
No.

Despite knowing that you have maps showing the cycling routes, let me tell you how to get via a busy A road and in a really complicated manner.
Gee, thanks!

That's a lot of baggage.
We're here for five months.

That's not a lot of baggage.
We're here for five months by bike.

Addenda: ok, so it's now four months; but we were planning on it being five...

Did you hire the bikes here or bring them over?
We brought them with us.

You must be fit.
Yes.

You will be fit by the end of this!
Do we look crazy enough to plan something like this without already being a bit fit?!

Are you riding a tandem?
I'd like to still be married by the end of this trip, thanks.

Would you like the full breakfast?
Hell no.

You should have an engine on the back wheel.
Cue crickets. And maybe a tumbleweed.

Comedy is tragedy that happens to someone else.

Today we rode from Porthmadog to Dolgellau - 33 miles (53km)

I have to say today has been one of the hardest days riding yet, but Alex tells me that tragedy is comedy when it happens to someone else, so I figure today must be hilarious for all you lot reading. Let's look at the challenges we faced, pictorially.

Hills



There were many hills, most longer, but none steeper than this one

Moss covered descents


These were not photographed on account of both of us being scared of stopping and moving out of the faint wheel marks on an otherwise SLICK road surface (thanks mostly to the mucky wet leaf litter).

Bogs



We turned off the 'main' road onto what could best be described as a farm track; the view at least was spectacular.



Then we came across the first of many bogs.



And another. Alex wanted to give up and walk through, I insisted on us keeping our feet dry. Which resulted in Alex having dry feet, and me ... not.

Rocks and a mountain bike park



I'll just let this section of the map speak for itself.

Update: It has been pointed out to me by a reader that this section, was clearly warned on the map, and is therefore our own damn fault. This is true, however I didn't read the warning until AFTER we'd ridden that whole section...

Wind

Now just when we came out of the forest and onto the open road, Al says, well at least this last section isn't bad, at which point we turned a corner and had to ride into a stiff headwind for the last 5 miles.

We made up for it with Indian for dinner though - Indian and Cobra beer - and now I'm watching new season Top Gear before all the rest of you, so I reckon it's still a pretty good day.


Alex says: hmmm. Good thing I have the memory of a goldfish. "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming...". I ordered "Sag walla prawn," which would allegedly have king prawns in it. Not so much; they were more like mini shrimps. The riding was all right.

Trains and steam and mountains

Today we wandered into Porthmadog (we're staying just outside it, in Tremadog) and bordered the Ffestiniog Railway, heading for Blaenau Ffestiniog.

On the way up we rode the David Lloyd George; on the way back down, we rode:

... which is the Welsh name for Merlin Ambrosius, you unlettered people.

The train goes quite high into the mountains, I think; there were certainly some points where we could see out into the valley, and it looked a long way down. I'm fairly sure we saw a nuclear power station in the distance. We spent about two hours in Ffestiniog, wandering the main street and having lunch (as well as slate, I am now in love with Welsh rarebit).

Back at the station, James had the opportunity to chat with the driver and the fireman of the engine, and have a sticky at the (very small, exceptionally hot) footplate and firebox. It's unusual in that the footplate, where the fireman stands, is side-on: the engines on this line are all double-ended, which makes switching ends a whole lot easier, but it means the engine is split down the middle by the boiler. The engines are short, but they're powerful. The fireman has to shovel coal out onto the floor, then open the door of the firebox (without burning his legs), and then shovel in the coal. And I'm pretty sure that the guys running it today are volunteers. Also, the trains on the line - which was of course originally All About the Slate - were in the Olde Days pulled up by horses and then went down courtesy of Gravity. Then, a man whose name I have forgotten wanted to test out his new idea for engines - these double-ended ones - and because it worked so well, he let them make more for this line without charging royalties. Nice!

Anyway, we saw a lot of this:


This area is very different from the landscape we saw on the Welsh Highland Railway - this is much more lush, with very few outcrops of rock until you get right up to Ffestiniog... and even there the town is dominated by slate slag heaps, not by natural outcrops.

We opted not to take the rather expensive tour of a working slate mine, today, given how good the free one had been.

And finally, because I am proud of having taken them out the window and because Too Many Trains is Never Enough (right, Willski?):

Things you can do with slate

Roofing tiles
Fence palings
Fences
Drinks coasters
Earrings


Necklaces
Plaques of all different sorts
Gravel
Tombstones
Walls (on farms; for houses)
Castles
Churches
Clock faces
Pavement/flooring

James forgot to mention that we took a tour through the Slate Museum. The guide, Peredur, is a carpenter at the museum and had previously been a manager at a quarry, so he really knows his stuff. He was fascinating, and insightful, and exactly what you want in a guide; not a single "And we're walking..." was heard.

Also? I'm in love with slate. I want a slate roof. And slate floors. And slate coasters.

Llanberis to Porthmadog

32 miles (51.5km)

We retraced our steps today back to the coastline and then followed it around to Porthmadog, not actually very far as the crow flys from Llanberis, but we wanted to avoid a whole day of riding up and down the mountain passes along the A roads. Sadly for me, and perhaps not so much for Alex, there are no little roads that would have let us go through the mountains, oh well at least they have narrow gauge mountain railways then!



The riding followed an old railway for about 15 miles around the coast, very pretty with lots of boats and so on every time we came near the sea itself. Then we turned inland and rode along about the smallest road you can imagine getting a car down, with high stone and then hedged walls; passing people along here took a little good grace on the drivers' part.



One thing I've noticed right around the UK is how often cattle and sheep are just lying on the ground (unlike the cows in the photo humph); with so much green pasture to eat there is obviously not the same incentive to keep moving around like back home in Australia. Here the animals seem even lazier (and the grass even greener). I'd have to say that I think the Welsh highlands are even greener than Scotland and Ireland.

It's all about the slate

Last day in Llanberis today, once again Snowdon is under a cloud so walking up it, or really any of the high mountains, was out again. We're not actually sure if we've seen Snowdon itself at all on this trip ! Instead we took a wander around town, and once you slide around behind the huge 'Electric Mountain' visitors center and tacky tour departure building which dominates the main A road, you actually find some pretty cool stuff.



One of the most dominating features of the landscape here is this slate quarry cut into the side of the hill. 39 decks of cutting with some being over a mile long, there are also huge slag heaps left around the place from the quarrying exercise.



This first photo was taken from the top of this, the local castle ruin, which is of course made of large blocks of slate.





The next few hours disappeared as we worked our way around the National Slate Museum . Once again proving my rule that the best things in the UK are the free things, this rates among the most interesting things we've done all trip. The museum itself is all built around the old (but for the slate quarry new) HQ. The slate itself was cut and dressed by some 3000 men up on the quarry decks itself, from where it was transported on a system of hundreds of miles of narrow gauge railway on some 12,000 individual carts (like the one above).

The HQ was all about supporting those men and the infrastructure they needed, there were some 20 carpenters cutting logs into boards, cutting boards into railway sleepers and slate carts. There was a large foundry where every metal part for the whole operation was first drawn, then patterned in wood (only three patterners for the life of the quarry - three generations of the same family) and then cast and finished onsite. The whole place was powered by a huge 54ft diameter waterwheel until the 1920s, and then by a water-powered turbine until the day it shut in August 1969. It's quite striking to see such a big industrial operation which had to be invented, designed and created onsite, by hand, using largely local materials (except for the Canadian yellow pine that makes up all the buildings), all pre electricity and automation.

Llanberis

Yesterday involved stooging around Llanberis, wandering the main street; reading; and watching the team time trial of Le Tour (for one of us). There are no photos of these events.

Today involved something for everyone.

First, we caught a bus to Caernarfon, being treated to a tour of Small Rural Welsh Towns. There's a lot of slate. From Caernarfon, we boarded the Welsh Highland Railway - steam engine, of course - and took off for Beddgellert.


The train itself

To begin with, we had a lovely little booth in a heated carriage. However, then James discovered the open-air carriage.


Action shot

It was a good way of seeing the landscape - clouds on hills, ferns, more clouds, cows - but golly, it was cold.

When we got back to Caernarfon, we visited the eponymous castle.


Half of the castle

This is where the Princes of Wales have been invested in the past; there's a mini-museum devoted to just that subject, with a recording of Charles taking his oath of loyalty. There's also a substantially larger museum devoted to the Royal Welch (sic) Fusiliers, which was really quite fascinating; they were initially raised to fight James II, on the side of William of Orange. Given we went to the site of the Battle of the Boyne in Ireland (where William kicked James' butt for the last time), it seemed appropriate.

It was a mighty fine day, topped off with our second visit to the Spice of LLanberis... which, um, might be the main reason we came back to the UK.

Today I was So Happy

21 Miles (34km)

So I wake up in the big soft bed, with a feather pillow in a fantastic remote B&B right up on the coast. I can hear soft rain falling on the windows and I'm reading Harry Potter (still).

I get up and have the most amazing full breakfast I've had for ages including wonderful smoked salt... Yup, smoked salt. We then go back to our room and spend perhaps an hour (perhaps an hour and a half) finding reasons not to leave, reading Harry Potter mostly. By the time we leave it's stopped raining; win!

Now this is really where the happy begins: out of the yard and down the road, wet glistening road and an easy ride into Beaumaris. The castle is fantastic, it's huge, round and you can walk all through the walls, it's basically as good as any small man's imagination could want. A few photos taken, oh and the fact they invited our bikes through into the castle against policy.


From the outside


Inside one of the towers


The chapel


From the top of the walls

Then as if just to lift my spirits even more, we found this little bakery and £7 later I had a full load of bakery treats and drinks for lunch for both of us.

In the afternoon, after some lolling in the town square, we rode across the giant bridge and over towards Llamberis.


Just outside Llanberis

Beautiful and hilly; we rolled into town enjoying views we missed out on last time in the dark and rain. We rode down the high street enjoying the names of interesting shops to explore later flashing by - it was even better than last time. I really love this town.

The place where we are staying has the most awesome shower, powerful and hot. I say again, powerful and HOT. Then I flipped open the laptop, hooked into the free wireless and found a site live broadcasting Le Tour with 20min to finish on stage three. It turned out to be a fantastic finish with a significant break away succeeding, a wonderful sprint by the Manx Missile and Lance picking up 20 seconds on Contador.

By now I have a huge grin on my face, but I'm not done yet. You see I've been talking about 'The Spice of Llanberis' since we got home last time, and we popped in again for dinner. Would it live up to expectations ? Oh yes, a mixed grill, naan bread and a pint of Cobra beer. Totally fantastic.

Today I was so happy.

Holyhead to Penmon

Um, I think it's Pemnon anyway; there seems to be some confusion over the spelling...

Anyway:

41 miles (66km)

Up and down and up and down and up and down.




Also, we saw a dovecot.



And the coast.

Intermission

I think we drove more miles in the south than we've ridden our bikes on the rest of the whole trip. Rather than bore, shock or alarm you, our gentle readers, with the gory details of a Pierce family holiday, we thought we'd take you through a little 'daily highlights' package from Ireland.

Stone Circles @ Cregganconroe



A series of 7 or 8 complete stone circles, all quite low to the ground but very much intact. To my mind, the best we've seen apart from perhaps the Castlerigg circle in the English Lakes District.

Galway Coast and Mountain


Alex's view for much of the trip


Kylemore Abbey (not medieval)


Along the coast

Newgrange and Dublin


Not one of ours - you're not allowed to take pictures inside

Newgrange is an incredible Neolithic site, the purpose of which is unknown. It was built 500 years before the first pyramid at Giza, without use of the wheel.


The external wall at Newgrange, reconstructed out of the stone found on site.

Newgrange was found by a man who thought the hill would make a good place for a quarry. It's doing better than another tumulus in the area, which had a road and a teahouse built on top.


Also not one of ours, for the same reason

This is the Long Room, at Trinity College, perhaps most famous for holding the Book of Kells (seeing which was one of Alex's long-held ambitions). This room holds some of Trinity's oldest books.

Glendalough


A round tower

Alex says: James has gone on and on and on about round towers. Now I've seen one. This one is from the tenth century; built to keep precious monastic things safe from nasty marauders. Glendalough is famous for its monastic settlement, based around the hermitage of St Kevin.



Military Road


A spectacular valley we travelled on our way back to Dublin, to catch the ferry.


Happy families taking happy snaps.

Going dark

Today we are heading to the Republic of Ireland. We're bound to see
interesting things over the next few days, but our fabulous Internet
deal won't apply there so we almost certainly won't be blogging. We
will be arriving back in the UK, in the form of Holyhead in Wales, on
Saturday evening. We promise to update you then, our loyal readers,
about our adventures. And we'll be back on the bikes, too.

Death toll: still zero

An Adventure in Three Parts

Part One: Dunluce Castle



Dunluce two decades ago



Dunluce today

James has been telling me about Dunluce Castle for oh, about a decade. As a wee lad the castle made a huge impression on him, so it was something that we had to visit so that he and his brother could show their wives around the place. James at least had some concerns that it wouldn't be as good as he remembered... Perhaps the most interesting thing about Dunluce is that part of it fell into the sea about four centuries ago: the kitchen, and the dinner, and the servants preparing it.

Part Two: Bushmills Distillery



Next, we went to Bushmills - the oldest, continuous, licensed distillery in the world: it was granted its licence by James I in 1608. We went on the guided tour, which was quite interesting; we saw the mash being stirred, and then the stuff being fermented, then being distilled, and then eventually being bottled. James is disillusioned with whiskey: he had thought that, like beer, the taste might come from how it's made. Instead, turns out the taste basically comes from the barrels it's aged in - in the case of Bushmills, sherry, port or bourbon. James now wonders whether he can just make it at home; if you know where to get used barrels, please let him know. Yes, we did also get a 'free' tasting with the cost of the tour; the girls had a taste of the 1608 heritage whiskey, while the boys all had the 12 year old reserve, which you can only purchase at the distillery.

Part Three: the Giants Causeway



Basalt columns as a cliff



Basalt columns up close

Again, something that made a huge impact on young Pierce boys. Tesselations! So exciting! We walked down a long cliffside trail to the Causeway itself, and had a pleasant time sitting on the tiles themselves.

Note: it has been pointed out to me that I missed a fairly significant feature of yesterday: peat. Shedloads of peat. Cut into brickettes, drying out, stacked into piles. Peat!

Two Irelands in one day

If you're only reading this blog because you are interested in amusing cycling stories, now might be the time to take a week-long hiatus from us. For the next week, Henry and the Argo are broken to pieces (well, two main pieces) and flat as pancakes in the back of a 7-seater Vauxhall, while we travel around with James' family in said car and its twin.

Today saw us take a long car-trip (I think we travelled as far today as James and I have travelled in the past fortnight) over to the west coast of the island of Ireland, which involved crossing into the SOUTH (as their road signs have it), which happened as we went West, and is a completely different country: Eire, or the Republic of Ireland (IRL... heh heh). There was a distressing lack of drama, or even signage, as we went into this country that fought so determinedly to be separate from Great Britain. We did change to kilometres from miles, to euros from pounds sterling, and to bilingual signs from ones that just had unpronounceable names.

Firstly, we went to (London)Derry, where we Walked the Walls:



Sadly, nothing was open; it was only 11am on a Sunday, after all.

We went to a national park at Glenveigh, and took a little walk around their grounds; we neglected their castle as being too modern (19th century? pfeh!).



We went over hills, and through valleys, searching for Authentic Wild West Coast Ireland; sadly large sections of the west coast have been taken over by, we think, the elite of London and Dublin. And possibly Americans. How dare they ruin our search for Authentic Wilderness?! We arrived, eventually, in a bay where we looked out over the North Atlantic, with nary a skerrick of land between us and Newfoundland. Now there's a profound thought. It was a glorious little cove, the tide a long way out and rock pools to poke in - and it was almost warm enough that I almost wished for bathers.

On the way home we found Wilder West Coast Ireland to look at, which mollified us somewhat. And mitigated the feeling of being in a rally car that those in the back two seats in particular experienced as we went up and down hills and around bends.

Did I mention that all six of us were travelling in what is theoretically a 7-seater? I spent about half the trip in the back, with my knees around my ears, which was its own special brand of entertaining. James and his Dad are the only drivers allowed near the steering wheel of this car; this too was own special brand of entertaining. In its own way. Imagine the merry band of travellers, if you can: a mad Irishman delirious with joy at bringing his family, as adults, to his childhood home; James; an exuberant music teacher; and Robyn, Mike and I trying to keep the peace, keep it peaceful, and not die in a variety of entertaining ways.

Death toll: zero.

Troon to Portstewart

We rolled the 3-odd miles down to the ferry terminal, which is actually in Troon, and lined up with all the cars. After a quick wait we were issued our tickets and sent to the very front on the queue, nice. We rolled on again down to the boat and the bikes were tied up to a rail just inside the car loading dock. To be honest it seemed a bit ad-hoc compared to the very precise parking instructions and strapping down the cars received.

The trip across to Northern Ireland (Larne) was flat and foggy; pretty typical big ferry replete with shops, bars and food joints etc. We were first off the boat once we arrived and then the only thing which remained was to rendezvous with Dad who was driving up from Belfast to meet us. There were some phone calls, and some waving, and then some running, and then some jumping back when Dad drove past (backwards then forwards), but eventually we were reunited and found a park. We broke the bikes down a bit and drove back to Belfast.

We met up with Mum, Mike and Bron and typical family behavior ensued ... I'll leave the details to the imagination of the reader.

Not without a certain amount of palaver, we waited in the middle of a street parade for quite some time on top of a red double decker to go on a tour around the sites of Belfast. The highlight for me was probably seeing the twine cranes, in the docks Samson and Goliath - The other interesting and sad part was to see much of the area where the troubles have focused for many decades, things like the 2+ mile wall with gates closed at all times outside standard business hours. Flags, murals, lots of razor wire and decay give the strong impression that underlying feelings that drove the conflict only sit just below the surface.

Tour over we packed everything up and drove up to Portstewart for a few days. Dad spent most of his childhood up here, so he's like a big excited kid showing us around, taking us down to 'the front' (the waterfront) and harbour for fish and chips, and icecream apparently still made by the same people from his childhood. A late night, probably the latest we've had all trip; we all got to bed exhausted.

Today in Question and Answer

Did you manage to get out of Paisley without being mugged ?
Just, though it is a miracle we didn't get a flat with all that glass

Why do Henry and the Argo have flecks of fresh bitumen all over them ?
Because Alex and James ignored the 'road closed' signs and rode over the increasingly fresh bitumen until they caught up with the truck laying it, at which point they quickly made a get away along a side road.

Why does it take 30min to walk back to the B&B from central Troon (population 14,000) ?
Because as it turns out Alex booked us a place in the next town, Loans, on 'Troon Road', by accident.

How can you impress your wife in unexpected ways ?
Try opening a beer using nothing but your bare hands and a bus stop...

Also, here are a few pictures from the top of the tower of the Abbey in Kilwinnie:

And on to Paisley

36 miles (58km)

Well, the post below details one of the recurring aspects of today's journey. However, it wasn't all like that.

(Note: if you're just reading this for the pictures, you're going to be disappointed. Today, while interesting, was distinctly difficult to take pictures of.)

We started the morning following the River Leven, which flows out of Loch Lomond and is Scotland's fastest flowing river. It's been the site of many and varied textiles industries down the years. Eventually, we joined the path that follows the Forth and Clyde Canal way. We'd been told about this path, which goes from Edinburgh to Glasgow (or vice verse, depending on who you talk to): it's been recently done up, and the canal re-opened I think. We went past a few locks, which meant that James could explain in that condescending manner that girls like how they operated. Exciting. Perhaps the most interesting lock was one which was underneath a road - presumably cheaper than building a higher road bridge?

Just out of Glasgow, we made something of a detour... because the turn-off we required was signposted only by a wooden post about a foot high. We did discover that there was a ferry we could take, from Renfrew (site of our detour) to Paisley (site of our accommodation). Not knowing the times, and determined to be Authentic (or something), we decided to continue on the cycleway and go into Glasgow, out of Glasgow, and then on to Paisley by bike. It was only an additional 18 miles or so.

The ride into Glasgow, along the Clyde, was quite fascinating. I'll be honest: I've always heard of Glasgow as the poorer, more industrial cousin to Edinburgh. And the outskirts were, frankly, feral; lots of glass on the path, rubbish in the long grass on the edges, rundown buildings when we got towards town. Oh, and a bloke being arrested on our path. However - as in so many places, Melbourne included - the docks and waterfront are being remodelled, as shipping no longer comes right into the heart of the city. By bike, the transition from derelict buildings to high-class apartments seemed to happen really quite quickly. And it was very cool to ride past the Glasgow Science Centre, and BBC Scotland - whose entire wall facing the Clyde is window.

We went off track and into Glasgow proper for lunch, because there was nothing on our route and because we were making far better time than we had anticipated. Following the Clyde ever further in, we eventually turned into the city centre and found quite a nice stretch of shops and cafes not too far away. Glasgow quite obviously is much more than the country cousin to Edinburgh; they have a Dr Who exhibition on at the moment!

We caused some amusement amongst the suits and stockings out basking in the sun and eating their lunch along the river by stopping to put on sunscreen; we then crossed the Clyde and headed out of Glasgow proper to Paisley. Our route took us through Pollock Country Park; I have no idea who Pollock was, but there was a golf course and a big old house and a mountain bike course that had James crying for suspension on Henry. Paisley... well. It has an abbey, from the 12th century; and a campus of the University of West Scotland. And a big rambly secondhand bookshop (hello, more Harry Potter). It also has skanks and neds (aka chavs, aka bogans) being scary and shouting at each other, and shops with iron bars on the windows - those shops that are not boarded up, anyway. We're staying in a very pricey place that's really catering for people on the way to/away from the airport, and for people with business at the uni. Frankly, in some ways it feels like an oasis - or perhaps a gated community in the middle of the feral heartland...

We're currently enjoying the lounge, wifi and a book. Normally we like to find a pub etc and meet some locals, but I think tonight we might give it a miss.

How to ride the End to End (Lands End to John-O-Groats)

First a quick note for the uninitiated, a classic 'big ride' for British touring cyclists is to ride the End to End route from bottom left to top right, about 1000 miles depending on the exact roads chosen. Amazingly the cycling record is just 44 hours and 4 min. Anyway, here's my advice for anyone wanting to attempt the route in a sensible amount of time (14 to 20 days seems to be typical).

1) Get some maps
2) Get quite fit, as doing 60 miles (100km) each and every day is a fairly big ask on the body, even for regular cyclists.
3) Don't plan to ride 90 miles in one day including a traverse of a large city like Glasgow (just for example).

Today we repeatedly met 3 chaps who were attempting the end to end for the first time. When I say we met them repeatedly, we kept passing them and then they would catch us up when we stopped for lunch, sunscreen, a few-mile diversion into town etc... Now Alex and I don't exactly fly along, I think we managed an average of around 9 miles per hour today, so it's safe to assume these chaps were averaging about the same. But I don't think that's really where they were going wrong; let's see if we can figure it out with a quick check against the list of advice above.

1) Get some maps ? Well, no - despite planning to cycle from one end to the other of one of the most densely road-covered countries on the planet, these gents and decided not to bring a map of any kind; I can only assume they were looking for a bit of adventure and thought that they could just wing it.

2) Get quite fit ? Well ... no - They were a combination of young and fat, or old and slightly less fat. As I said, when actually turning the pedals Al and I consistently sailed past these chaps with our 5 months' worth of luggage and without being in a particular hurry to be anywhere holding us back.

3) Don't plan to ride 90 miles in one day ... See now this is where I really think these fellows came unstuck today, when we first passed them at about 9:30am they had just set off for the day and we leap frogged each other to Glasgow where we left them behind as we diverted into Glasgow central for lunch. Just out of our destination town of Paisley we met them again at 3:15pm - where they hailed us down and asked for directions (no map you see... the town they were trying to get to was on the border of England and Scotland, some 65 miles away (plus another 5 miles back to Glasgow to get on the right road).

We have no idea how this story ends, but these lads have a long way to go to Lands End at their current rate of progress !

Blowing the Budget in Style

We had a fairly lazy start to the day, necessitated by James' addiction to Harry Potter (#2 completed in 2 days; #3 not yet in possession, hopefully to be rectified tomorrow).

Eventually, we went walking:



... around the bottom of the loch. It was pretty enough, although there was a bit of murk around.

Blowing the Budget #1 involved going to the Loch Lomond Aquarium:



We liked the Asian short-clawed otters - watching them get fed was very entertaining - and I liked the seahorses a lot. Of course, these sorts of huge tanks are always entertaining to watch, too (Alex G, you better be good to my tank) - especially when the decorations etc are so non-authentic as to include faux Viking helmets and Roman ruins.



The Aquarium from the loch - it's so ugly! And so big, it's utterly incongruous.

After wandering the aquarium, we looked with some bemusement at the Loch Lomond Shores mall: it's a small-scale, very up-market shopping centre, and I just don't get it. Why would you travel to Loch Lomond to go shopping in somewhere like that?? People are weird.

For the afternoon, we decided to go on a cruise of the loch (Blowing the Budget #2).



We had hoped to go on the two-hour cruise, because that would take us past a few of the islands. Sadly, it wasn't running today, so we had to go with just the one hour version. We did still go past some interesting stuff - including the biggest island in the loch, which is privately owned and home to Scotland's oldest established noooodist colony. Things I like about Loch Lomond: it's the largest body of fresh water in the UK; it's one of the deepest (over 600ft deep!); and there are running arguments about how many islands there are in the middle (some say 23, some way 30, others are in between).

It was a good idea. Tomorrow, along the River Leven, which flows from the loch to the Clyde - and we go through the glory that is Glasgow.