Saturday, 30 March 2013

Edinburgh to Edinburgh via East & Mid Lothian


Distance: 47.5 miles (scroll down for the Strava map)

Less then 48 hours until the clocks spring forward for the start of Summer Time and I'm staring out the window, wondering if the snow is sufficiently heavy for my bike ride to be cancelled. I put the coffee machine on, decided to wait and see how the weather developed. Half an hour and two very strong coffees later, I'm on the road, the snow's stopped, the sun's out but the skies on the horizon are dark and doom-laden.

Nevermind, at least I'm out. That was probably the hardest part of this ride, breaking that imaginary barrier, overcoming my meteorological doubts and exiting the flat. (How much improved as a cyclist would I be had the hours of weather watching and dithering instead been spent on the bike and riding?) Anything can happen now that I'm actually out, on the road and pedaling — rain, snow, lightning, storm of locusts, zombie invasion — it would only help to embellish the tales I'd tell when safely back in the flat, returned to staring out the window at the weather.

I headed out through town, away from the canal, up through Bruntsfield, across the Meadows, into Holyrood Park and on toward Meadowbank. I was in a contemplative mood and so paid sufficient attention to realise just how pretty a city Edinburgh is. In five minutes I was treated to stunning scenes of the Georgian skyline presided over by the Castle, the imposing crags of Arthurs Seat, then down the hill passed Parliament and Palace. I'd have taken some photos but removing my gloves put me at risk of frostbite and I kept thinking: I see this every day; I'll take some photos another time.
Portobello Prom
Portie Prom

Passed Meadowbank with its stadium and dilapidated Velodrome, I rolled on down toward Portobello (a separate seaside town that's become subsumed by the city). Rather than battle the traffic through the town I chose to meander along the prom', dodging joggers and excited dogs, struggling to resist the aromas of fried food and coffee that leaked from the many cafés.

The twin towers of Cockenzie power station (in the direction I was headed) looked minutely distant. I'll be there in no time, I thought, still under the influence of my morning coffees.

Tuesday, 19 March 2013

The Breakaway

The Breakaway

Publishing The Breakaway was a case of wresting victory from the jaws of defeat. One of the book’s sub-plots is the breakdown in my relationship with fellow traveler, “Drew” (as he’s known in the book). The trip wasn't entirely to blame for the friendship’s failure but it certainly exacerbated, and opened my eyes to, differences that existed between us.

Drew was my best friend and the end of the friendship was pretty depressing. It over-shadowed my opinion of our trip, and it took me a while (and a good deal of nagging from my girlfriend, Gaby) to come back around to the idea of publishing the diary as a book.

As I say in the introduction, the mountains of the Tour de France and Giro d’Italia truly left their mark. They changed me, mentally, physically and emotionally (helping me to see through the grief I was suffering as a result of my father’s death from cancer). I’d watch Tours and Giros on TV and recognise (even indistinct sections of) the roads up which Drew and I had suffered and soared. 

Eventually time passed,the summer sunshine burnt away the cloud and I could more clearly see the positives. I took Gaby’s advice and returned to the trip diary. A read-through left me buzzing with pride, often laughing out loud, shedding a tear or two, amazed at what we’d achieved and pining to be back on the high roads of Europe. This, I realised, really is a story worth telling.

And hopefully others will find that it’s a story worth reading.

Click here to preview or purchase The Breakaway on Amazon (you can read it on a Kindle, or on a laptop, iPad, etc using the Kindle app).