Day Nine - Carlisle to Glasgow

Sorry this is a little late getting published, and I'm touched by how many of you have become alarmed that I might have gone under a Strathclyde bus. But no, all is well, and my reason for missing my deadline was driven by a great evening with Chiara in Glasgow.... And falling asleep after comprehensive 'refueling' before I could start blogging.

So what of Day 9?

Well, it was the longest day so far, taking us 104 miles nearer John O'Groats, across the border into Scotland and finally Glasgow.

It feels like we are really making progress now. But it was a long old day in the saddle. And a day which included falling off my bike for the first time this trip, a bee sting and a pair of very numb .....hands.

Of course we stopped at the border for the compulsary photos at the 'Welcome to Scotland' sign, before cycling through the wedding related theme park that is Gretna.

Carlisle YHA where we had spent the night didn't offer breakfast, so the first 20 miles were done on empty stomachs. So imagine my joy when we saw signs for Ecclefechan. (just savour that name; enough reason to stop in itself). Eccle-feck-in.

But this isn't just an amusing named village in the Slatter household. Years ago, before kids, we had Hogmany in Port Patrick, way out on the west coast of Scotland. On Hogmanay evening itself, we had a meal and were being served by a waitress called Fairy. It was a cruel parental choice, as most of the attributes you mighy associate with fairies; beauty, grace, lightness and engaging charm seemed to have evaded our waitress. She had one aim in life that night, and it had more to do with finishing her shift and drinking on the beach with her friends than serving us.

"What's for pudding?", we asked as the clock ticked towards midnight...
"Ecclefechan tart" came the reply.
"Is it nice?" we asked.
"Nah, its mingin" said Fairy... "It comes with cream but that's been spilt all over the flair (floor),
Do you no' want any?"
We didn't.

But ever since, Ecclefechan tart has earned a special place in my heart. And today, some 15 years later, it was time to finally try a slice. We stopped at the aptly named Ecclefechan Hotel and asked for a a bit of tart. Ecclefechan tart is like christmas pudding, mixed with mince pie filling spread over pastry; it is not usually ordered for breakfast.

But the waitress (altogether more helpful and amusing than Fairy, but more prosaically named Sandra) was happy to find us a couple of slices, and even cracked the no-doubt obligatory 'here is your tart' joke, along with a cheeky grin when she arrived at our table.

Fairy was wrong, it wasn't mingin' and it set us up nicely for the long day ahead.

It was cycle paths and minor roads all day today, but if I have a complaint; and I always tend to (as you may have noticed) the road surfaces were shocking. South Lanarkshire Highways department should hang their collective heads in shame. While they seemed particularly enthusiastic in erecting signs that rather smugly said, 'South Lanarkshire - thriving on safe driving' they were singularly unable to lay a decent road surface. It was like cycling over corrugated iron, randomly sprinkled with rocks, pebbles and just to keep us on our toes, potholes.

By the time we arrived in Glasgow, Steve's handlebars had worked loose, I'd dislodged a handful of fillings and our hands were shaking so much, we needed both hands to successfully guide our pint glasses to our mouths.

Perhaps South Lanarkshire council should stop spending their road budget on stupid signs and actually build some decent roads.

And if you are wondering about the 'falling off the bike moment' I can happily tell you that it was highly amusing for Steve, but did no lasting damage to me, except to my ego, as it happened at about 2mph as I inexpertly tried to negotiate a gate on a cycle path. The slow motion collapse onto the grass verge had the natural grace of an elephant being tranquilised. We will say no more of the incident.

Heroes include Chiara who as mentioned, provided fantastic hospitality, use of a shower, took us to a great pub (converted old church) then on to curry house. And to Deirdre, Angela, the Grays and the Gorniaks for helping push my total even further. Thank you all so much.