Pianos

 Pianos are on the march. They appeared some time ago in main stations such as St Pancras, airports, and even big hospital foyers but having just spotted one in the relative 'halt' of Darlington, I realise that this more of a pandemic than I thought. I'm happy to see them, and have been happy to hear them sometimes. I hope that the number of talented players keeps pace with the increasingly ubiquitous pianoforté. We would quite like to replace ours with an electric piano. Perhaps we can plant it on the platform of Starbeck train station before somebody beats us to it?

A few hours ago, I was sat in York station trying to harvest the heat off my polystyrene cup of tea, wondering how I will cope with any cold weather at the top of Scotland if I am already struggling...

I am now sat on the 'Highland Cheiftan' which runs from King's Cross to Inverness, making it one of the longest train journeys in the country. When it arrives at York, it has done literally a quarter of its journey, so I won't arrive at Inverness for six hours.

This gives me an unhealthy amount of time to inflict 'bloggage' on you. 

I'm going to spend more time alone than I ever have, by a very big margin. I may well start to lose the plot. I'm quite an unsentimental bloke (I think) so there is an obvious test for my mental state. I have never given any of my bikes names. If I start referring to my bike by name, you'll know I've lost it. For now, bike and I, hurtle north 

We stopped hurtling momentarily and were informed that the line had lost power and that we were all basically stuffed (they didn't put it like that) but seconds later we resumed hurtling.

There's a lot riding on this to work. Health, weather, mechanical issues, coffee outlets. I weighed my outfit this morning. The bike plus kit came in at a healthy 35.5 kilos. So there's a lot riding on my bike, too.

The train journey is stunning. Views of the Sage at Gateshead, views of Holy Island, views of the coast where, at times, the track runs along cliffs dropping straight to the sea. I will be seeing a lot of the 'big blue wobbly thing' over the next couple of weeks but that doesn't detract from the thrill of seeing it now. 

I suppose I should clarify my plans....

I stay in a b and b (Actually only the first b) in Inverness before pushing on to Thurso tomorrow. From there I cycle to a campsite which I've actually booked. Then, I'm hoping to reach Cape Wrath, the furthest point to the north west. That is the start of my ride home... I have no idea how long it will take or if I'll manage it. I have received wise council from my sister, Clare. Enjoy it, and if you're not enjoying it, get the train home. I hope I hold to that and don't find myself thwarted by foolish pride.

I'm now in an air bnb near Inverness for my last night of luxury before heading to Thurso and on, tomorrow. 

Caveat. Tomorrow's train journey is nearly 4 hours. Plenty of scope for much bloggage....

Photos in reverse order🙄


        View north of Berwick upon Tweed
                            Bike hanging
 

                              And I'm off...



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