Day 5: Haste Ye Back

Aberdour to Berwick Upon Tweed (85 Miles)

Waking up in Aberdour is certainly a familiar feeling, preparing to cycle to England is not. After the first 4 days of the trip, I took this chance to wash pretty much all my clothes, as a result, I needed to completely pack my bags again. Once again, I had company, this time in the form of my mum who had volunteered to join me until I crossed the forth road bridge. I also had a convoy waiting for me on the bridge, in the form of my cousin and two of her boys, in case I got into any trouble.

It was a nice relatively sunny morning, certainly not setting the tone for the rest of the day. About twenty minutes after setting off, we reached the bridge and there waiting for us were Sarah, Kaleb and Charlie. They had already been across the bridge and back, but had waited patiently for us to arrive. Kaleb shot off over the bridge, the race was on! I’ve been trying to think of an excuse for my defeat, but I can’t come up with anything, simply, the better man won. Over the bridge, I said my goodbyes and I was off, alone again.

As I was cycling towards Edinburgh, I tried to think of how many times I had made the short journey to our capital, in memory, I could only think of one time. Perhaps I took a different route last time, or perhaps the route has improved, but I was very impressed with the ease at which I was able to navigate around Edinburgh. The cycle routes do a great job of keeping you away from the city, albeit they do take you through Leith and a bit close to that dreaded ‘football’ stadium down there.

I was soon past Edinburgh and rain was in the air, not heavy but it was gathering. The route takes you throw a few coastal villages, out towards the east coast of Scotland. I stopped in Dunbar for lunch, unfortunately I wasn’t here on a weekend, or I could have stopped to watch the infamous Dunbar cricket club attempt to cheat their way to victory. As it was, I didn’t stay long because now the rain was starting to fall quite heavily.

This section of the route would probably be very nice, but the diminishing weather meant that I could see no further than a few hundred meters ahead. The rain soon turned to hail, this surprisingly did lift my spirits slightly as I imagined the chaos that would ensue if this level of constant rain was replicated in Dubai. My spirits were soon back down again due to a diversion (only for cyclists) that added a few miles onto the journey.

At the start of the day, I could see that there were two relatively large hills coming towards the end of the day. As the hail turned to drizzle, I reached the first of them. The first section of the hill was incredibly steep, the steeping gradient so far on this trip. Thankfully it didn’t last very long. The next section of the hill consisted of a long but steady climb. By now, the fog was so low and thick that seeing even 20 meters ahead was difficult. The climb wasn’t particularly tough, but because of the fog, it was impossible to know how long there was left, it just kept going and going. About half way up, at a temporary traffic light, a guy passed me. He explained that he was part of a group of 14 people who were all heading up the hill.

Eventually I reached the top of the hill, the same guy was there waiting for the rest of the group. He told me that he had been yelled at by a woman in a silver car for not having any lights and therefore not visible enough for passing cars. A few more of his group soon joined us, apparently one of the group got a puncture half way up the hill. Raining, thick fog, long hill, not the best place to get a puncture. They had all also, individually been shouted at by the woman in the silver car, I’m not sure how I evaded her wrath. The group were headed for Eyemouth, which to me sounds like an English name. I enquired to one woman if it was in England, “yes” she replied, “we crossed the border while climbing up the hill, there was a sign”. “Aww I must’ve missed it in the fog”. (For the record, Eyemouth is in Scotland and I passed the border into England about 10 miles after this conversation took place).

Into England, I was soon arriving into Berwick Upon Tweed, which unbeknownst to me, is a walled city. I had dinner in the Leaping Salmon, next to a group of very excited locals who had just won big on the horses. I then made the short trip up the hill to the B&B were I was staying to dry off.

Most villages, towns and cities in Scotland have the phrase “Haste ye back” on their exit signs, encouraging guests to return soon. Scotland I will be back, but not yet, not yet.