Sunday 26 June 2016 -Tomatin to Evanton

There are problems with wifi at this guest house,and it's taking Reg ages to download The Independent, as we sit at the breakfast table.

“That's probably what's stopping me getting into my router,” says our host, and she isn't saying it in a joking sort of way. I remember her defensive attitude about not providing an evening meal when I phoned up yesterday. Also, in our room is a notepad with about 3 sheets on it, on which our host has written,

“...use what you need, but please leave the rest.” This isn't a cheap B&B, and it isn't the most welcoming either. We have stayed in a huge variety of accommodation on this trip; it's the attitude of the host, or if a hotel, the management, that makes all the difference.

Four French guests from Normandy are also having breakfast. They cannot believe that we are cycling the length of the country. One lady in particular says:

“But you have your car as well, right?”

“No, just our bikes.”

“You have electric bikes?”

“No.”

“But you,” she says, looking at me, and smiling,” You're driving, right?”

“No, I'm cycling too.”

“You're joking, right?”

“No,” I smile good-naturedly, “I am cycling too.”

In many ways I can understand why people should be surprised that I am undertaking this venture, whereas they don't bat an eyelid at Reg doing it. I'm not the most physically-flexible or physically able of people (if I'm sitting on the floor, it's no mean feat for me to get up again.) In fact I myself wondered if I'd be able to do this – and there are still 3 more cycling days to go. We hope to get to John O'Groats on Thursday!

It's a lovely, warm sunny day today, though rain is forecast this afternoon. We are cycling on a very quiet road with the smell of pine trees in the air. Suddenly we spot a red squirrel! Scotland is one of their natural habitats – I'm not sure how or if Scotland has managed to keep out grey squirrels. A young deer leaps gracefully through the woodlands which line the road. The road at this point is fairly flat – which all adds up to cycling bliss!

We've already cycled 16 miles,and no sign of anywhere to have coffee.  However, we're coming up to a Tesco superstore near Inverness, with a Dobbies garden centre/coffee shop/restaurant attached. We decide to stop for a coffee break – but what to do about our bikes? We need them to be within sight; it would be too difficult to unload all our panniers.

“I'll go and find out where exactly the restaurant is,” says Reg. After about 15 minutes, Reg returns with a big smile on his face.

“We have the manager's permission to wheel our bikes through the store. We can put them outside the window of the restaurant, where we can see them.”

Time and again I admire Reg for not being afraid to ask. “Those that don't ask, don't get,” as my Dad used to say.

We enjoy our break, then buy sandwiches and crisps in Tesco's, to eat when we're further along the way. We're staying in a pub tonight and know we can get an evening meal.

Our route skirts around Inverness, and soon we are crossing Kessock Bridge, over the Moray Firth, and cycling through The Black Isle, an area of land jutting out between the Moray Firth and Cromarty Firth. The Kessock Bridge is the windiest bridge I've ever cycled across, and this is a calm day, with hardly a breeze moving the trees. There are warnings of strong side winds as you make your way across the bridge. Wow! I'd hate to cycle across on a windy day.

The cycle track on The Black Isle is superb – black tarmac, no ridges or potholes. The track runs beside a busy A road for much of the way. Gradually the summer blue sky melts into ominous grey clouds, and it starts to rain. We're looking for somewhere dry to eat our sandwiches; near a place called Tore, Reg spots a grassy bank under a huge tree which looks ideal, and we're able to have our lunch in the dry. Reg is very pleased with himself.

“Did you like sitting under that tree? Was it a good place to stop?”

Once again we struggle with our waterproofs and we're now on the last leg of today's journey. There's a long,long stretch of downhill to a little town called Dingwall, then uphill for about 1½ miles. As we cycle along the top of the ridge there's a magnificent view of the Cromarty Firth, the stretch of water which surrounds one side of The Black Isle. Another long downhill, followed by a short climb, and we've reached our destination – Evanton.

There's always a sense of exhilaration, mixed with relief, when we arrive at our accommodaton. We have a large room, with red pillowcases, and red and grey towels. No bath tonight, unfortunately!