Another (extended) weekend in sunny Scotland. This time it was just Jos and me due to poverty, catastrophes and general apathy on behalf of all others. Lazy gits. Anyroad off we went on a fine Friday morning towards Scotland. Taking the easy route via the A66 and M6 to Carlisle and then to Gretna. A boring route I know but we had to get to Glenluce by teatime and I wanted to get to some new roads a.s.a.p.
Once past Dumfries the fun starts. We stop at a garage to gas up. I'm just
filling the tank when I hear a familiar sound, it's a GSXF. I look round and ...
it's some bastard on my bike and he's nicking it. No he's not cos I'm still
filling mine, and mine doesn't look like it's just been thrown through a hedge.
Turns out the guy has just lobbed it, we reckoned we could make one pristine
bike between us. I eye up his fairing fasteners, he eyes up my fairing, then we
go our separate ways.
We take the A710, the coast road, stopping almost
immediately to explore an old Abbey. The roads quite small but the scenery
stunning and the place is full of little castles and such.
We stop at a
cafe and decide to have a look at the nearby castle. It's a short walk and then
the worlds shortest boat crossing to a castle on it's own little island. What a
shit hot place, I want it badly, and of course the cash to turn it into a huge
house/recording studio/garage. Dream on...
We follow the coast road to
Dalbeatle and then onto the A75. Which turns out to be an excellent ploy. The
A75 is magic, it swoops, twists and turns through some stunning scenery (head
up, wow, head down, nail it) until it eventually reaches Glenluce. We turn off
towards Milton and a campsite of good repute. As we come towards the coast we
come over a rise and there is the sea and the Isle of Man beckoning, ahh but not
today.
The campsite is OK but not up to the standards of, say, Applecross, but it
makes up for it by having the worlds cutest kitten, although Jos never saw it
and still reckons I was hallucinating.
Tents pitched and over the road and
into the bar. One drink turns to many and we get pissed.
Saturday dawns cloudy, boring and hungover.
We ride to Stranraer for
some supplies and have nosy about, then give up and ride back. It's not a day
conducive to motorbiking. We leave the campsite again and head along the coast
towards Port William. It's dead. It's Saturday and midday but nothings
happening. A tumble weed blows past. In disgust we return to the campsite, park
the bike and go for a walk.
This is more like it I think as we climb over
barbed wire fences and over field full of mad spikey plants. These field don't
need barbed wire, they're an assault course all on their own. We eventually
return to the tents and have a barbecue, get wasted and gibber on into the
night...
Sunday is fine again so we go off to explore. Back along a sunny A75, oh what joy, and off towards Kirkcudbright and the Animal Sanctuary. In fact it's a kind of, sort of, almost, environmentally sound, zoo. Worth a visit I suppose but it is a bit too commercial, still I suppose they need to get the money from somewhere.
Monday and time to head back to England. It's such a nice day we decide to spend Monday night in the Lake's in Borrowdale.
Tuesday and back to reality.
And no thanks to the noisy, battling, couple next door and the obnoxious sprogs that kept setting my alarm off. I hope you all rot in hell.