After a damp arrival into Glencoe the previous night, we collected our now dry clothes, ate porridge, had tea outside with the midgies, quick picture with an amazing back-drop (I know I said it before but it is fabulous), and then off again. A couple of us struggled to find our legs, but they were soon discovered when we needed to climb, climb and climb out of Glencoe and up over Rannoch Moor. What goes up must come down, however, and there were some quick and stunning descents before our breakfast stop in Tyndrum - another round of full Scottish breakfasts please!
The morning continued with more climbing and descending through the Trossachs, constantly reminding ourselves to look around and enjoy the views and ignore the pain. Then, all of a sudden, the hills seemed to disappear as we entered Stiring, made our way to a great Italian place for pizza and pasta for a late lunch, stocked up on energy drink at the local bike shop and then headed onto the interesting delights of Falkirk. Just as the mountains had disappeared, the rolling hills appeared and we were back into the countryside, lovely and quiet, although a little chilly as the evening drew on.
Finally, when we had only a few more miles to go we came across a cement mixer on its side blocking the road so despite doing our best to sweet-talk the policeman into letting us past, we had to take a detour which added a few more miles. We then rolled into the B&B, crashed into our rooms, got a take-out, watched the England v France highlights and then slept like logs.
Faff of the day: Le Patron forgetting his glasses, not once but twice!