Cairngorm 1
I learnt something about my sleeping bag last night. If it's cold and you don't pull all the strings, you also, will be cold. By half way through the night, I had learnt which strings to pull. It makes the bag wrap round your shoulders and your head and makes an extraordinary difference. Within seconds. Sleeping whilst remaining in this situation is a new art. I spent a few minutes planning how to turn over, tried, failed, rested from the exertion then had another go. Success.
In the morning, the 71 year old woman in the next bay complained that her sleeping bag obvious wasn't up to the job because she had been cold. I wondered about asking if she had pulled her strings correctly and thought better of it.
So today, after porridge and tea, it was a case of the Cairngorms. They won't be properly traversed until I reach Perth which is two days away. If I had been in any doubt that I was tackling the Cairngorms, they quickly made it very clear that they were there. The day started with two leg-breaking hills. They'd have been bad enough on any bike but with the weight they were energy sapping. I don't like the thought that I'm emptying the tank at the beginning of the day. After those hills, the road simply went up. Not terribly, but up. I certainly climbed 1,000 feet in the first miles.
I was heading for somewhere called Tomatin. (Tomaahtin) The map suggested a café. 15 miles in and there it was. It was a crackin café. I had a beautifully cooked breakfast and the obligatory coffee. I was sat by a huge window which looked over the hills as well as an impressive viaduct for the railway and another impressive bridge for the A9.
It was empty in there as still quite early, apart from a few men with Balfour Beaty written on their high vis jackets.
Plenty of ups, downs and bouts of rain later, I came to Aviemore via a forest track. The rain set in. It was full of shops selling walking, skiing, climbing and generally outdoors stuff. Funny really, you'd think people would buy that stuff before setting off...
Aviemore hadn't risen to my hopes of lounging somewhere restful as I ate and drank. Onwards then to Kingussie (which I now know is pronounced Kenoosee)
And there was a lovely tea shop. Probably the most 'normal' one so far. According to the Stephen Price opinion of normal tea shops.
I had wondered about making a stop here for the night. There is a campsite. But I want to see if I can reach Perth in two days from Inverness, thus completing all that is Cairngorm. Setting off from Kingussie was a bit risky because I had no idea where I might spend the night in what is a very remote part of the country. I decided to try for Dalwhinnie and see what happened. Dalwhinnie has few boasts. Some of them later... The only thing there apart from a train station(!) was a groovy, hipster sort of coffee shop/bistro/place to hang out if you're cool. Slotting right in, I had smashed avocado on sourdough. Yeah. I asked if there was anywhere near to camp and they said people sometimes camp there pointing to a little patch of grass with some picnic tables and a war memorial on the corner junction. So that's what I did. Bit odd when locals just walked by but they didn't seem that surprised. I saw a notice board nearby. From it, I learned that Dalwhinnie is the highest and coldest village in Scotland. Nice choice, thought I...
BTW, I am quite a few blogs behind as you may have guessed. I shall endeavour to catch up!
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