Sunday, June 22, 1997

Day 18: Pitlochry to Aviemore



Another dull, wet day of hard going into headwinds and rain.

Just out of Pitlochry I dropped in on Blair Castle (pic), whose grounds were free to cyclists. They must be quite proud of young Tony.

For the rest of the day, the A9 was my companion.

The sort of companion you don't really want. The sort that sits between you and the aisle on the train, and talks incessantly about immigrants, or young people today, or how awful their first husband was, and how you look just like him.

And you find out they're going to where you're going, four hours away.

I pedalled for hours and the scenery didn't change. Big mountains stayed big and I never seemed to get any closer.

I passed a sign, slowly, saying welcome to the Highlands (pic).

Given the weather so far I thought yes, you're welcome to them.

Half the time I was sharing the road with fast traffic. The other half I was following the untrafficked old road (pic), often branded as a cycle path – though to get on to or off it, I often had to vault barriers.



At Kingussie I visited the Highland Folk Museum to get out of the rain. Then realised it was mostly an outdoor museum (pic).

Remarkably, at the exact moment I took the picture, the sun came out. And then went in again once it was taken. I think the shutter speed was 1/125 of a second. So it didn't quite rain all day.

There were some exhibits inside, though, and I amused myself by taking a selfie in front of a high-wheeler (pic).

Some final slogging got me to Aviemore and the youth hostel.

I celebrated breaking the thousand-mile barrier for the trip with a local half-price chip shop special: white pudding, deep-fried haggis and chips, all for £1.35. Fats rating: Waller.

Miles today: 58
Miles since Land’s End: 1001

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