That time in Scotland

Continuing our armchair traveling adventures during this time of Covid, we recall a few summers ago when Jill and I did a weeklong bicycle tour of Southern Scotland. Yes, there were cows, and also sheep galore. Not that many cars, though.

Many thanks to Esther and Warren, of Galloway Cycling Holidays for providing the bikes, routes, accommodations and luggage support. We couldn’t have done it without them. Highly recommended.

We began our trek at the Mull of Galloway, the southernmost point in Scotland. From the lighthouse you can see Ireland, England and the Isle of Man. I think I saw a man on Man wave.

Great routes. I had no idea where we were at any given time. Thank goodness for GPS.

And of course the signs were all encouraging.

Did I mention that Trump visited while we were there?

Low tides, green grass, charming villages, ancient thatch…and a biosphere.

The good news is that my ship finally came in. The bad news…..

Rules? We don’t need no stinkin’ rules!

Decisions, decisions, decisions…

Very nice folks these Scots. But they don’t say too much.

Let’s just call it a fixer-upper and leave it go at that.

Scotland rocks.

Apparently people have been dying to get into Scotland for a very, very long time.

All roads lead to something or other.

As I understand it, Iron Man once lived in this castle and fought with a frog-like being called Mystique. And all was well. (Hey, it’s history.)

Oh, and we took a pilgrimage to the workshop and the burial ground of the father of the bicycle, Kirkpatrick Macmillan.

Sometimes we cycled for hours and never saw a car.

The egg and me. Don’t ask.

We were impressed to find palm trees this far north. Apparently that’s complements of the Gulf Stream.

I dunno. There were cows in the water. I’m sure they knew what they were doing.

Talk about your road less traveled.

It wasn’t easy, but we finally found an Italian restaurant in Scotland.

We had a great time. But, seriously, these Scots really need to cheer up.

Author: floridavelocipede

A sometime journalist who used to string words together for a living before I retired to run a non-profit cycle touring organization that will henceforth go unnamed, as I have subsequently retired from that career as well. I write a bi-monthly column, theater reviews and an occasional magazine piece for my old newspaper. If I still had a business card it would read: Ron Cunningham: Trained Observer Of The Human Condition. Because like The Donald, you know, ego.

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