Luxury

This is Saturday's Blog. No signal last night.

After a second night in a luxurious double bed, it's back to basic camping tonight. Well, not quite basic, as I'm in a proper campsite, with loos etc, but all pretty spartan. I'm at Talmine, on the North coast.

An uneventful day, spoilt only by the lack of sun, especially in the afternoon. There are such lovely views here, but the camera doesn't do them justice when it's cloudy or raining.

No Internet this evening, so this Blog will have to wait another day before it can be published, when hopefully I'll have a signal at Kinlochbervie.

A cuckoo keeps flying past; it must be desperate for a mate, as it's calling 'cuckoo, cuckoo' every second. That's unusual, as they usually only call once every 10 seconds or so.

On a bike you hear all the birds singing. I wish I knew what they all are. I can recognise curlew and oystercatcher, as well as the more common ones. But there are plenty of unfamiliar sounds too.

I must have been passed by thousands of cars, lorries, buses etc, so I'm in a great position to announce the results of a totally non-scientific study into vehicle behaviour. The best drivers are those in.... Ford Focuses, especially diesel ones, and especially those driven by older people. In joint second place are Vauxhall drivers, Corsas and Vectras. The worst cars are BMWs, especially the large ones (they do own the road, after all). Stagecoach-type buses are generally good, but private coaches are not; they always seem to be in a hurry, leaving little room and cutting in as soon as they pass. Lorries are sometimes good, sometimes bad. Those driven by a company called Steven, in Scotland, are particularly poor.

The worst town for driving in was... Middlesbrough. Everyone drives like maniacs there. I find a lot more courtesy in Scotland, even from local farming types, who often wait at a passing place to let me cycle past.

An early night beckons. I can't load my photos to Facebook either, so that will have to wait until tomorrow, too.