Day 9: Eyemouth to Edinburgh – ‘Sweat, blood and tears but almost there!’

Miles: 55
Pedalling Time: 5hrs 33mins
Weather: Dull, cold and windy
TOTAL DISTANCE: 530 miles!!

The beginning of our last day of cycling did not start particularly well. Although our breakfast was one of the best we had had over the whole trip this was the only good thing. The weather was dull very cold and a strong wind was blowing, not ideal cycling conditions. We were packed and ready to go, only needing to pay for our stay. To our surprise and slight anger we found the guesthouse did not accept credit or debit cards, only cash or cheques. Was this place back in the Stone Age or what. As we did not have enough money on us to pay, Luke valiantly cycled down and back up the hill to Eyemouth to get some cash, again not ideal when we had a long cycling day ahead of us.

However, our day gradually improved, the weather didn’t get any worse, the hills became less steep and we had the thought of the finishing post of Edinburgh in our minds to spur us on and give us that extra bit of energy that the ‘Boost’ bars couldn’t give us.

The ride to Edinburgh was quite uneventful l, passing through some ugly places including a power station and a cement factory. We made excellent progress despite feeling tired and reached the half way point very early in the day. Plenty of rests were taken to rest our sore legs during the day including one just outside of Preston Pans where we got our first glimpse of Edinburgh in the distance. This sight filled us with joy at being able to see our final destination but also sadness as we knew it would all soon be over. Physically we were looking forward to the end but mentally I think we didn’t really want this fantastic experience to end.
The final cycling in Edinburgh was adrenaline fuelled and quite intense, having to dodge a lot of traffic to get to Prince’s Street Gardens where our reception party waited with baited breath for our arrival.

The end of our cycling came at exactly 5.00pm as we crossed the finishing line and met Alex’s mum and dad and Emily under the Scott Memorial. Food and drink was thrown upon us and photos were taken as we found the nearest bench to sit on and rest. Everything passed in a bit of a blur as our tiredness started to creep up on us, though everyone there was very glad to see us both.

After a very short time in Edinburgh we got the train to a local park and ride, loaded our bikes onto the car and set off to Durham where Luke and Emily would stay at Alex’s house for a night before going back the next day. In the car we passed many of the places we had gone through the days before but for the first time in 9 days we weren’t cycling.

A fantastic personal experience for both of us, an amazing amount of money raised for Leukaemia Research and St Nicholas Hospice, many interesting characters met and places travelled through and lots and lots of laughs. We were happy..... if not a little tired.

Day 8: Amble to Eyemouth – ‘It’s grim up North’

Miles: 64
Pedalling Time: 6hrs 52mins
Weather: Cold, windy and rainy
Total distance: 474 miles

Having been ‘soothed’ to sleep by raucous karaoke we were woken by a rather strange alarm clock. Ida who we had met the night before had forgotten where John’s room was and thinking he was in our room stood outside and shouted in a posh voice “Jawn......Jawn......, I can’t remember how to work the shower.....Jawn! This lasted for about 5 minutes with Ida even trying her key in our door. We went down to breakfast which was a decent cooked breakfast but nothing to shout about. We left to the sound of Ida telling John how amazing the orange fruit juice was.

It is very very cold today and extremely windy, extra layers of clothes have been adorned to keep us from freezing to death on our bikes. We both rubbed a ‘good luck stone’ in the yard of the Harbour Guesthouse to keep the rain away. It obviously wasn’t a very powerful lucky rock as the rain begun almost as soon as we had finished rubbing it. So for the first time we got out our waterproofs, Luke’s a bright blue and Alex’s a shade of yellow brighter than the sun. We certainly wouldn’t be missed by drivers on the road.

The wind does not help our cycling, making us extremely slow and tiring us out very fast. It is not what we want after having done over 400 miles but we battled on through the elements until finally the rain subsided. The wind continued however. Today we both laughed hysterically at the passing of the most average lorry in the world - I think we may have cracked at last!
We reached Bamburgh for lunch making good progress despite the weather. Whilst sitting near a pavilion for shelter we were approached by the people within the pavilion (all of whom were at a harp playing convention) and were offered food and shelter. We were given several sausage rolls, some quiche, gingerbread men and a newspaper to check the weather. Needless to say we were extremely grateful to those harp playing folk.

After short stops at Seahouses (where we saw the lifeboat being launched) and the Holy Island causeway we reached Berwick-Upon-Tweed. However, the weather was not to be desired and neither was the route, which was un-paved consisting of hummocky grass and sheep poo which Luke’s bike had some difficulty in passing over. At Berwick we met another odd lady who we have nicknamed ‘The Wasp Lady’. She approached the bench we were sitting on and without introducing herself began her sentence by saying “The beasts, the beasts!”. We seem to attract all the odd people in all the places we go to. She regaled us with her story of how she had been stung by a wasp and had had to go to hospital where she had, in her opinion, not been looked after properly by the doctors and that she would probably die now because of it. Hoisting her skirt up to show us her plasters on her leg she then told us how best to deal with a wasp sting yourself, apparently you must use brown vinegar on the sting but by no means must you use white vinegar. This advice she told us to remember, and then she was on her way. We tried to look concerned as she was telling us about her experience but it was hard not to smile.

Onwards and upwards to Eyemouth we passed the English-Scottish border and a strange no-mans land in between. Photos were taken at both sides and we hastily got on our bikes. It was beginning to get dark and we had a bleak looking moor to cross.

Luke and I joked about possibly being got by one of the rumoured panthers that roam the moors of Scotland, though we soon wished we hadn’t joked about it as our imaginations soon turned into something quite real in what was the singularly the most frightening and serious event that has happened on our ride so far.

As we approached a desolate farm 3 mangy looking dogs appeared from one of the entrances, teeth bared, barking and growling they slunk onto the road blocking our way. We were blocked by two walls on either side of us and so had no choice but to go past the vicious dogs. As we did so they pounced at our bikes and legs. Fearing a nasty bite from one of them Luke jumped off his bike and used it as a shield whilst I pedalled so fast to get out of there I almost came off my bike. Thankfully the dogs didn’t chase us though it was a close shave and not a fond memory. It certainly could have been worse but we are going to report the farm to Sustrans.

We finally arrived at the outskirts of Eyemouth and Redhall Cottage guesthouse at about 8.00pm and found that pre-booking was required for evening meals and so were again left in the lurch in terms of food. We have not been lucky with our food on this trip. Being late we feared we might not get anything to eat as the centre of Eyemouth was about 30 minutes walk from the guesthouse and we did not feel like cycling in the dark again to get there. Thankfully a friendly taxi driver named Chris was our saviour who took us in and back from Eyemouth centre for a reasonable price and in time to get to a nice and very sophisticated bistro called Oblos which served very tasty if not some what pricey food.

The end is in sight now. Our epic journey will soon be over! 


Day 7: Durham to Amble – ‘Well there’s only the one pub in Amble..... but it doesn’t do food!’

Miles: 65
Pedalling Time: 6hrs 41mins
Weather: Sunny and Hot
Total distance: 409 miles

We got up early again today to get an early start for what was to be one of our longest days. Alex’s dad, Ray cooked a rather large and very tasty breakfast which was so huge the cooked breakfast had several layers of ingredients on the plate. It was a like a food version of the strata in a rock! After having been re-fuelled to bursting point we were ready to go, except we weren’t as the puncture Alex had received the day before had come back. The original puncture repair patch had come off and so this time three puncture repair patches were used with extra glue to hold them down. Hopefully that would hold for the rest of the journey! So we began day 7 to Amble in Northumberland. Getting there was going to be a problem as there was no easy or direct route. We decided to travel northwards to Chester-le-street then join the National Cycle Network Route 7 to Sunderland and the coast. We would then follow the coast upwards to Amble.

Some nasty hills to get to Chester-le-Street was unwelcome terrain and slowed us down, then to get to the coast we needed to go eastwards rather than northwards and so by about 12.30 we hadn’t travelled that far from Durham and we still had a long long way to go but at least we had finally reached the coast.

Our next problem was the River Tyne and how to cross it. Obviously the people of South Shields hadn’t heard of bridges and so still relied on a ferry to get across the river. However the ferry provided a welcome break from pedalling and allowed us to eat our lunch and consume what must have been the 100th ‘Boost’ bar of the trip. While on the ferry a thick accented Geordie asked us where we were headed. Because Luke couldn’t understand this strange northern language I answered we were travelling to Edinburgh. Obviously hard of hearing the man thought I had said India! I didn’t have the heart to correct him and anyway cycling to India from South Shields sounds much more impressive.

We passed through some rather scummy places and met lots of scummy people on our way to Amble. There was even a ‘rapid response cleansing unit’ to get rid of the scum walking the streets in Blyth. It was cleverly disguised as a rubbish collecting van. Ha! you don’t fool us. Alex fell of his bike today though somehow didn’t get injured. A graceful James Bond style leap over the handlebars as the bike toppled over saved him from any injury.

We arrived in Amble at sunset after having seen some pleasant views of the coast. The Harbour guesthouse is comfy and the rather large owners are friendly enough. Great news - the pub is just over the road from the guesthouse – no walking anywhere to get our dinner. However, the owner of the Harbour guesthouse told us with some satisfaction I might add that and I quote “Well there’s only the one pub in Amble... but it doesn’t serve food!” Our faces dropped; surely a restaurant would save us. We were then told – “Well there’s only one restaurant in Amble.... but it’s so busy you won’t get any food there” Our faces dropped further than any face has done so before. We had resort to the lowest of the low for our dinner - a takeaway that is if there was one. Thankfully there was a fish and chip take away owned by the fattest woman in the world who had about 5 chins! The meal was actually quite tasty. While we ate it in the guesthouse we met two of the other guests – Ida and her husband or later we thought possibly her carer, John. Ida was eccentric to say the least describing the fake flowers in the pots on the tables as fantastic. Worse was to come from Ida, but you’ll have to read the next instalment of our blog to find out what.

We headed to bed to the sound of badly sung karaoke from the pub over the road that didn’t serve food!

Day 6: Osmotherley to Durham - "Easy peasy!"

Miles: 44 miles
Weather: Sunny and hot
Total distance: 343 miles

We sat down to yet another cooked breakfast this morning - I don't think we have ever consumed so much bacon in so short a period in our lives. Alex made a speedy puncture repair before we free-wheeled down hills that were so steep tears were streaming down our cheeks in the cold morning air, with the bikes approaching speeds of 35mph!! We retained the flat of the Vale of York, making quick progress early on through pretty villages with names like Appleton Wiske and Ellerbeck.

Luke was most disappointed not to see Tony Blair in Sedgefield for a quick chat as we passed through - he was hoping that he might be watering the begonias and would invite us in for tea and cakes. The idyll of Sedgefield and Yorkshire soon faded however, as we got deeper into the old mining areas of County Durham, as we proceeded through pit villages such as Fishburn and Quarrington Hill. In Fishburn, we had a whole plethora of reactions as we cycled through, ranging from looks of derision and confusion to car horns tooting, although we thought later these were probably at some girls on the pavement! Alex managed to get us lost outside of Durham, but I forgave him for not knowing the area. High Shincliffe (Alex's home) was lovely and green, and we received a wonderful reception from Ray and Gail (Alex's parents) after Alex had sneaked in to the house and tapped Gail on the shoulder, making her jump out of her skin.

For once, today was a total piece of cake, a walk in the park, a total cinch mileage wise...and dinner was absolutely delicious!

Day 5: York to Osmotherley - "He was baited and trapped for his meat by savages!"

Miles: 52
Weather: Sunny and hot
Total distance: 299 miles

We sat down to a reasonable hearty breakfast with Colonel Sanders this morning who was regaling a tail of epic proportions in his clipped accent - "I knew a chap that was cycling in...what's it called? Sierra Leone. No. Well it was a black African country anyhow. His bike was found at the side of a road. I don't know what the terrain was like; flat I think. Can't have been dense jungle otherwise they wouldn't have found it. Anyway, they never found the body. I expect he was mugged - baited and trapped for his meat - for want of a better word, by savages!" After bidding farewell to Colonel Sanders and the lovely cycle fanatic who helped inflate Alex's tyre with some hi-tec pump, we were off! Our knees were creaking this morning as we pedaled across lush meadows into the Vale of York, but this was not surprising for we had accomplished almost 250 miles in 4 days. The weather is gorgeous yet again and it's hard not to wonder when it will end as we travel north - apparently Scotland has been enjoying 80-mph gales!!

After debating, whether to go to a nice looking cafe to purchase lunch or go to cost-cutter, Luke purchased a mammoth sandwich known as a 'trencher', that was essentially half a loaf of bread. However, our trip to cost-cutter turned out to be the priciest yet and I was very disappointed with the depth of the egg-mayonnaise filling in my trencher. After crossing the East Coast Mainline, and failing to impress Alex with my identification of a Class 180 Adelante that was passing us at speed, we continued through green lanes towards Sutton Bank. Thankfully we avoided that beast of an incline, that for those not familiar with Yorkshire, is practically a sheer cliff with a road straight up it to the North Yorkshire Moors. The hot weather has only increased our sweating and our t-shirts (we are proud to say still unwashed) are encrusted with salt! You could throw them on the floor and that they'd shatter into a thousand pieces.

However, what was supposed to be an easy day turned out to be somewhat longer, with the elusive Osmotherley eventually being accessed from the wilds of the moor and a forest dirt track that ascended for what seemed like a mile. After searching up numerous hills and asking people who were lost as to where the hostel was, we finally stumbled across Osmotherley YHA. We felt a little guilty when the guy (clearly the chef) asked us whether we would like dinner and we said "no, but do you know if there is a good pub nearby?" Yet more pies were consumed (this time tasty ones) in a very cosy pub, although as is always the way up here, chips are counted as a vegetable (and the only one at that)!

Day 4: Marton to York - "Colonel Sanders' bottom (and worse)"

Miles: 67
Weather: Sunny and hot
Total distance: 247 miles

Breakfast was an absolute treat - quite a difference to Alex's concrete porridge from the previous morning! It was a new experience for Alex, as being a northerner, he hadn't ever experienced hearing radio 3 playing softly in the background and using fine bone china for his breakfast tea. Alex thought that he had extended his little finger in the correct way when drinking his tea, but I had to correct him. Patrick, the proprietor, was wonderful yet again, helping us change our route over the Rivers Trent and Humber, even giving us some sponsor money as well.


We made good progress over yet more flat terrain, although cross-winds were hard going in places. At the lovely village of Misterton, an elderly couple got chatting to Alex and gave him a fiver. We diced with death near Drax power station as we were forced to take some terribly busy A-roads packed with lorries that seemed intent on over-taking us badly - needless to say, a TESCO lorry almost knocked me off my bike (clearly they know how much we despise them).

After the beautifully named village of Swinefleet, we arrived in the jewel of Yorkshire that is the port of Goole. After riding around this dump getting vaguely lost we happened across a McDonalds for the loo - the people inside were staring at us, apparently stunned to see that two people could be so thin in comparison to them. Alex was clearly the first cyclist to have ever entered the McDonalds at Goole (or quite possibly, the world). McDonalds had installed bike racks in their car park, but fittingly it's clientele had placed a moped in it rather than a bicycle.


We made speedy progress up towards York, although our legs were starting to feel the strain. As if to taunt us, the York sign was about 2 miles outside of the city limits, with another separate village and numerous paddocks in-between! Yet more appalling photos of Alex and I were taken once more by the sign. York was a cinch to navigate, looking very smart and quite possibly being the only consistently nice city in the north (although Luke would of course retract this statement once he had visited Durham!).

On reaching the YHA in the dark, and having placed our belongings in a dorm that smelt like a horse had died in it, we ventured out eagerly with directions towards the local pub, but once again we were doomed - clearly it had been abducted by aliens as no one had heard of "The Dormouse" pub. So, after a trip to spar we were armed with potato salad, tortellini, spring onions and chocolate fudge cake - just what a nutritionist would recommend for such an expedition. On returning to the dorm, we met a nice, if fanatical cyclist who had partaken in the London-Endinburgh-London cycle race (or LEL as it is known in inner cycling circles!). This monstrous beast of a race involves tackling over 180 miles a day in just 5 days, snatching a few hours of sleep in hedges along the way. When he started getting technical about gears and tools for changing spokes with names such as grip-ring-shift-manglers we just nodded and said "yes". Anyway, he clearly approved of our efforts as he gave me his card, but I don't think we're cut out for such marathon trips! The showers left much to be desired, with intermittent lighting, dribbling water, curly hairs, and in one of them even rope! Later on, the star of our trip arrived, a chap whom we named Colonel Sanders. A very well-spoken chap, he entered the room by announcing "greetings" before immediately undertaking the task of cleaning his denches whilst introducing himself. The smell of the dead horse had clearly been from his unwashed cycling shoes and jersey that dated back to 1945 when we undertook a ride with "Wuthering Smithe" and "Colonel Foster" on a Coast to Coast trip in the '50s. I fell asleep to the sound of Colonel Sanders irregular breathing pattern that sounded like he was about to become deceased, oblivious to the fact that whilst I was in the shower, Alex had had the unfortunate sight of seeing Colonel Sanders bottom and more...

Day 3: Thurlby to Marton - 'The Fens Have Eyes'

Miles - 55

Time - 5hrs 32 mins

Weather - Very sunny and warm

Total distance - 181.48 miles

After a pleasant nights sleep we woke to find the YHA did not even do breakfasts! Luke and I had to fend for ourselves and so spent 40 minutes finding the local shop to buy our breakfast in a village the size of a small hamlet. We bought some porridge, prunes (to loosen the bowels) and croissant. Unfortunately the porridge ended up more like cement than porridge and after having 'stodge' for dinner the last thing we wanted was 'stodge' for breakfast too!

We set off at 10.00 for an 'easier' day than the last, though we still did 55 miles. We passed through some pretty little villages and towns today, including Lincoln which was rather a hilly place. We also passed through some horrible places to, includng a Town named Sleaford where the people were just as nasty as the place. The rumours about the 'Fen folk' are true!

After a good days cycling we arrived in Marton and found our stay for the night - The Black Swan guesthouse. A lovely en-suite room with beds over 5 metres thick was a nice change from the YHA beds made from granite. The owners of the guesthouse are extremely friendly and chatty. They even offered to take us to the local pub in their car. After a hearty pub meal and a relaxing shower we were ready for bed. It has just started to rain - hopefully this will not last.

Luke and I have named our bikes. My trusty steed is called Burton Pedwardine (Burt for short) and Luke's steed is named Ashby de la Launde (Ashby for short).