No new islands today unless we can count mainland Great Britain (or is it United Kingdom). I did start on the Isle of Lewis, with alarms set for 5:45 am, which gives me 30 minutes to the latest check-in time. I didn’t have any fears, as I only had one pannier to pack, and the bike was already loaded up in the locked store room. This hotel stay has worked out perfectly.

Even though it was early, there was a steady flow of cars and walkers towards the Ferry Port. I was the only bicycle in the queue. I don’t know what happened to Billy, but I suspect he got an earlier ferry. I had considered it when I arrived early yesterday, but I would have put out all my timings/distances/campsites. Plus, I would have missed out on the great TV! The ferry was very busy, maybe a Monday morning rush to work on the mainland? The ferry to Ullapool is much quicker than the Oban ferry, at 2.5 hours against 4.5. I expect this is acknowledged in the price, and therefore its popularity.

After tying my bike up, I managed to snag one of the last comfy seats in the front observation lounge and had a doze. I left it for an hour and then went to grab a full Scottish breakfast with a coffee (that I didn’t manage to spill over myself). When I went back up to the lounge, my seat had gone, and most were reserved like towels on sun-loungers. However, there was one by the window, which was a bit of luck as a school of dolphins (or porpoises) started to swim with us. They were on the other side as well as I could hear a child’s commentary. It was great to see.

We unloaded right into the centre of Ullapool, which looks like a quaint town with nice streets of well-kept bungalows and cottages. I did need water, and my first stop at the ferry port said “not drinking water”, and there was a queue outside the public toilet and I could see a sign for a Costcutter to buy some, but it appeared to be closed down. I headed off with “only” a litre of water, but it was only 25km to a food stop – I should survive.

The road just climbed out of Ullapool and kept climbing. There were good downhills, but you always knew that you would be heading back again. It was quite a busy road, with campers and plenty of foreign cars. It seems that the Dutch were much more likely to give me a “close pass” than any other nationality or vehicle type. Even my “red car theory”, I developed in Iceland, was disproved. I wondered, with the Dutch, are they not used to sharing the roads with bicycles?

As I climbed higher, the views were superb. I cycled up everything, but every now and again had to stop. Without the cars, I could fully appreciate the wind, birds, water sounds. Even after a short break, I am so much stronger on the hills.

My first target was elevenses at the Elphin Tea Rooms. This came after a huge descent, where the cars behind gave me plenty of room to enjoy myself. I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t have been able to pass me anyway. By the extravagance of the wave I got at the bottom, I think they enjoyed it as much as me.

The Elphin Tea Rooms were just what I needed, serving Toasties and Soup. I couldn’t decide so took the toasty and soup offer, saving a pound. There was another cyclist, a young Scottish guy cycling in the opposite direction. He had spent the last night wild camping in Lairg, where I am heading. He said he couldn’t find anywhere good and was plagued by swarms of midges. He came back from the toilet and was shocked what he saw in the mirror. His face was completely covered in tiny midge bites. When he said it, it was obvious, but on our first meeting I just assumed that’s how his skin was (or that he had a highly contagious disease). We had a good laugh. He headed off up the big hill I had just descended, and I forgot to ask about my direction.

As soon as I started cycling, the rain came. I ducked under some trees and put on my coat, waterproof shoes, and plastic wrapped my bar bag. After about 10 minutes cycling it was clear it wasn’t going to amount to much so I took the jacket off, and my shoe covers after about an hour. I really surprises me how much feet sweat, and the insides were soaked. I must take them off sooner!

It was much easier cycling from the cafe, and when I turned off the A835 onto the A837 towards Lairg the road changed. It was back to single track. All the camper vans carried on to the north, I think the “North Coast 500” driving loop headed the other way, leaving me with (almost) my own private road for 50 kms. It was a beautiful ride, generally downhill following a valley. I highly recommend cycling this route (it would be good in both directions).

My next target was Lairg, where I knew there was a shop and a campsite. Both of which I used 10 years ago when I cycled from John O’Groats to Lands End. Before reaching Lairg, I did have to stop to refuel on the hotel biscuits I’d taken from my room. I also polished off the last of my water, but with only 10 km to go, I should be OK.

Cycling into Lairg brought back memories of my JOGLE ride in 2016, and it was great to see signs for NCN1 – The North Sea Route, and a new (?) Far North Way (I have to look that up). My first target was the Spar shop. I’d learnt from bitter experience travelling south that this would be the last shop before the north coast of Scotland. I’d read that the camp site had a microwave, so perhaps now was the chance to try some fancy cooking (i.e., microwave ready meal), but the shop didn’t have any. I came out with tortellini and pesto, a normal meal for me, but the first on this trip. I got a photo outside the shop to compare to one 10 years ago and headed north on relatively familiar roads.

I headed to Woodend Campsite, and reminisced with the owner on what it would have been like then under “grannie’s” governance, how hard it had been to make changes with her , and all the modernisation. Apparently, it’s the same toilet block underneath, but it’s been updated really nicely. The campers kitchen is brilliant and they are the nicest and most exhilarating showers I’ve experienced this trip.

I rediscovered that I can fit a whole packet of tortellini in my tiny trangia pan, and when I’ve eaten it, I can’t eat anymore. A long way from the tiny dehydrated chilli I had last time I was here, and leaving me a lot of food to carry tomorrow as I went a bit mad in the shop!