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Date:
July 10, 2002
Hello from Inverness ,Scotland !
Inverness is the capital of the Scottish Highlands.I
am writing from Ness Island which is surrounded by the
River Ness that flows through the downtown of the
city. The river`s bank are lined well preserved
stately cathedrals, mana cured gardens and shade trees
that abound with songbird. The river which retains a
brown hue from the peat drains the world re-known Loch
Ness to the south. The fickle Scottish weather has
granted me a sunny day. The locals all agree that the
6 inches of rain that saturated Scotland in June was
unusual. A fly fisherman close to the far bank is
casting his line in the swift flowing , frigid water.
The Highlands have lived up to their hype. I was
disappointed until I ventured north of Oban. The
bicycle trail between Fort Williams and Inverness
culminated in a series of difficult climbs. A
policeman shook his head as he passed during my final
ascent. His gesture left me questioning my sanity.
Then amongst the grey skies, wind and drizzle I
crested the mountain. Before me stretched a vast
valley of endless green. The valley was formed by the
majestic Mondhliath Mountains with their distinctive
rust-colored, rounded peaks that have been eroded by
the harsh Scottish wind. There was no traffic,
restaraunts or gift shops. Just the stark awesome
beauty that left me feeling small and vulnerable.
God`s nature put me in my place.
The fly fisherman has moved down river. Still no luck.
His daughter has dangled a line in the water form the
bank.
I have noticed a curious contradiction in the English.
I had envisioned quaint villages with mana cured lawns
owned by conservatively dressed, tea drinking
individuals with bad teeth. These expectations have
generally held true. My surprise has been "The Page
Three Girl ". What is a " Page Three Girl " ? She is
the topless woman that appears in some of England`s
less respected daily newspapers. The racy photo is
normally accompanied by a more in-depth article on the
model`s life. Come on ! Who cares if she has a sense
of humor after she takes her cloths off!? In the
States this type of publication would be wrapped in
plastic and displayed behind the counter. Does the
Queen know about this?!
My tour of The United Kingdom has had a sense of ease.
Gone is the language barrier and the strange eating
habits of Latin America. Here I can enjoy breakfast
again. The desire for and English breakfast or an
Ulster Fry has been the motivation to peddle over that
last rise before town. I did draw the line on black
sausage or blood pudding. Both are made with dried
blood and are included in most breakfasts. I
eventually overcame my advert ion to it`s appearance.
It reminded me of what my dog use to leave for me in
my backyard. The taste is actually bland. Pate has
more of a kick.
The scenery of the Highlands defies superlatives. The
weather occupies the other end of the spectrum. Most
mornings I cower in my sleeping bags while the cold
penetrating Scottish wind buffets my tent. Leaving the
warmth of my bed become a test of willpower. The worst
day was the ride into Oban. The frigid wind-blown rain
felt like sleet as it struck my cheek. The locals do
give me hope. They say I should have better weather
during my ride to Edinburgh. The region to the east of
the Grampian Mountains is suppose to be drier.
Change of scenery.
I am writing from a laundry-mat in Edinburgh. How
glamorous ? You bet ! Only a few steps past the dryer
and I am standing on the sidewalk gazing up at
Edinburgh Castle. The sight is arresting. It seems no
matter where I wander in Edinburgh before me is a
soaring spire, castle battlements, cathedral or park.
The famous Royal Mile is the cobblestone street that
connects Edinburgh Castle and The Palace of Holyrood.
When I stroll through the web of steep alleys that
spread throughout Old Town I can sense the complex
history of the city. This is a unique treasure that
should not be missed.
I unintetionally took a tour of the Scottish ski
slopes. The route that I chose between Inverness and
Edinburgh appeared innocent enough on the map.It was
only after I had my initial view from a ski slope
summit that I studied my map closer. While I drank tea
that brought the feeling back to my fingers I realized
my mistake. I had a second mountain pass to the south.
Gone was my hope of a downhill ride to Edinburgh. I
constantly balance the struggle to ascend these steep
slopes with the breath-taking vistas that await. There
are many times I wonder why I make the effort. Then on
a summit or in an isolated village I am given the
answer.
I will be traveling alone for the next four weeks.
Scott returned to London from Oban. It was while I was
riding north of Oban that I had a revelation. I do not
have to be anywhere in this world until Christmas
time. I mentally trashed my itinerary. After
consulting with other travels from France, Belgium,
Germany and The Netherlands I have decided to take a
different route to Munich. From Edinburgh I will ride
the ferry to Zeebrugge, Belgium. Then I will ride
through Brussels and Antwerp before entering the
southern part of The Netherlands. Then a turn to the
south thought The Rhine River Valley to the town of
Stuggart in Germany. My wish is to take a train to the
French Alps and see a stage of the Tour de France.
Amsterdam is a maybe at this point. Scott will
hopefully reunite with me in Munich where we will
begin our ride to Istanbul, Turkey.
Whew !
I miss you all and please keep in touch,
Dennis
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