Postcard from Strontian: Ardtornish Castle

With the agreement of the blogmaster here is a guest blog from the sloppy porridge maker on holiday with his wife, Karen, and Labrador, Meg. As regular readers will know in April 2008 the boys spent a very enjoyable weekend in the West Highlands courtesy of Peter and Elspeth Webb. This was the opportunity to revisit the Ardnamurchan peninsular and having successfully accomplished the scaling of Ben Nevis, complete with the first snow fall from about 4,000 ft, to put in a days cycling and gently exercise those leg muscles.

This wasn’t to be along the lines of a hard core TCA event or a mad dash in fading light. The plan was to put two bikes in the Petersfield tractor and drive to the Ardtornish estate at the head of Loch Aline. This was accomplished and the intrepid party of three set off along the eastern shore of the loch for Ardtornish Point and the ruined 14th century castle. The estate road stretched out in front promising a pleasant and untaxing pedal framed by the autumn colours of the loch side trees ensued with the opportunity of some bird watching along the way (herons, wading birds and buzzards). It was a fine autumnal day.

As was usual, be it a walk or cycle ride, Meg was on point duty, no matter how fast you pedalled she always kept in front, and there was no sign of fatigue after her adventures elsewhere that week.

Meg at the trig point on Ben Nevis

The three of us settled into an even pace along the estate road out to the ruined castle but on a couple of occasions the dog lead was brought into use to ensure that Meg didn’t embark on some impromptu sheep chasing and rounding up. As we came level with the settlement of Loch Aline so the Mull ferry arrived to disembark its cars and passengers and embark a new set. A short and gentle climb and 200m further on and the Sound of Mull was reached complete with a view of the eastern shore of the Isle of Mull with the looming presence of Ben More in the distance. The first glimpse of Ardtornish Castle could now be had – this had been one of the principal seats of the high chiefs of Clan Donald from the early 14th to late 15th century but was abandoned in the 17th century.

Ardtornish Castle and
Isle of Mull in the background

The estate roads are ideal for the leisure mountain biker primarily because there are no mountains – shame did some of you say? The ruin has no road access and the bikes were left at the nearby farm buildings and approached on foot for a picnic lunch in the shelter of the north wall so that coastal shipping in the Sound can be admired. Para Handy and the Vital Spark were absent but this would have been one of the routes the Vital Spark would have plied.

After a clamber over the castle it was time to collect the bikes and with Meg again in front we three retraced our steps back to the loch and then onwards towards the graceful presence of Ardtornish House and the nearby Kinlochaline castle.

Ardtornish House

Later your correspondent made inroads into local Scottish beverages in the time honoured TCA fashion. To absent friends – roll on Clun Mill next March

To absent friends – apologies but I drank the lot!

(Posted by: Ian)

Postcard from Hungary

During the atrocities of the Hungarian Revolution in 1956 more and more Hungarians fled to the western world over the border to Austria. Even though it was just a small wooden bridge over a small river, the Bridge at Andau was the escape route for about 70,000 Hungarian refugees.

The 9 km "Road to Freedom" is lined at regular intervals with sculptures
in tree stumps depicting the escape of the Hungarian refugees

After crossing the border, fugitives had to walk a 9km long road, the "Road To Freedom", to the village of Andau, where they were received with great hospitality by the inhabitants there and the surrounding villages. On November 21, 1956, the bridge was blasted by Soviet troops, putting an end to the escape route. The bridge was reconstructed as a memorial in 1996.

Maalie on the Andau Bridge, at the Autria/Hungary border,
Hungary in the background

On 16th May I hired a bicycle in the small Burgenland town of Illmitz and cycled the 30km to the Andau Bridge. The bike was a "Kettler" hybrid road bike with a 7-speed Shimano gear box in the rear wheel hub, very similar to that of my Giant Escape, so I felt at home. The 70 odd km I cycled that day was more than I had accomplished in a single day since my teenage years, and I confess to a little saddle-soreness during the evening. However, the ride was well worth the effort, not only because of the historical context, but also because I was able to see a flock of Great Bustards in the nature reserve that runs alongside the Road to Freedom.

For just 10 Euros for my 28-hour rental period, I considered it great value.

Detail of the Kettler bicycle hired in Illmitz
for just 10 Euros for a day-and-a-bit.

(Posted by: Maalie)

Postcard from Denmark: Probably the Best Cycle Route in the World.

Separated from his Brothers in Arms this week due to work committments Al hatched a cunning plan. Well versed in Danish cycle-hire lingo he negotiated a special rate of 100DKK for the loan of the one of the Scandic Hotel's fleet of cycles.

Probably the best Bike in town...

Cycling in a strange city is one thing, on the 'wrong' side of the road another - the back-pedal coaster brake adding to the confusion - but the really disconcerting thing about cycling in Denmark is the hand signalling used by riders to make clear their intention; clearly not sanctioned by any international committe. Great Britain having recently beat Denmark to an Olympic gold medal in 4km team pursuit Al's invoked this superiority to ignore the unwritten code.

A Danish Fountain

The TCA out-of-towner caught his breath at one of the many satues in town, about half way to his target destination. His bike was performing superbly - John would even be chuffed with the 'Fat Boy' tyres installed for superior ride with reasonable rolling resistance - on Copenhagen's combination of smooth roads punctuated with ancient cobbles!

Can't a girl get a bit of piece and quiet?

Al was hoping for some tranquility at the end of a ride but the National Symbol of Denmark, the Little Mermaid was engulfed by tourists at the peak of holiday season. Pausing for a few obligatory snaps Al quickly made for the only piece of 'off road' action the city could offer.

The little mermaid, perfectly framed
by Copenhagen's industrial backdrop

The grounds of the old army barracks near the mermaid offer a place to get away from it all and nice views of herons and signets were had from the ramparts as Al struggled to control his bike on the gravel tracks.

After what felt like hours, Al finally
mastered the self-timer on his phone

It was soon time to head back to the hotel though using the cycle paths of the city, only occasionally losing orientation. The bike was dumped and, in true TCA fashion, a b-line made for the boozer. Central Copenhagen offered the typical dross of Irish pubs, English pubs, Scottish Pubs (!) and other such nasty stuff. However, down a quiet backstreet off the main square, through an alley and down some steps is nestled a haven from the madness in the form of Brewpub København, where a tasty meal and an excellent couple of pints of (strong) brewed-on-site beer can be proccured. Al plumped for Steak pie with a couple of pints of Ellhorn ("Ellhorn is the Norwegian for elderflower, which we have added to complement the hops in this lightly refreshing, aromatic summer brew") while he read a copy of the sports section of the Guardian to see how many more Olympic gold medals Team GB had won than the Aussies...

Clearly the boys from Carlsberg haven't
been to Brewpub København...

(Posted by: Al)

Postcard fom Vienna

Like Copenhagen and some other European cities, Vienna is endowed with a fabulous network of dedicated cycle paths with which you can get anywhere, from a quick city-centre tour to a spin round Johann Strauss' eponymous Vienna Woods that surround the city. Visitors may hire cycles from various outlets, including a city-bike station where you can insert your credit card into a machine, select your bike and then release it from the stand. You can return it to any of the 50+ such stations located around Vienna.

A typical city-bike station.
The credit card control unit is in the centre of the row of bikes

After a quick buzz round the inner ring to see some of the palaces and state buildings, I headed off east to the Danube. There is a long flat low-lying island that runs down the centre of the river, which is effectively dedicated as a 30-mile long playground where you can do cycling (from 'professional cyclists' to tourists like me), walking, roller-blading, kite-flying or even messing around with radio-controlled models.

City bike ride on the Danube island.
Bikes are simple but robust,
with front brake and fixed wheel as rear brake

(Posted by: Maalie)

A Passage to India

After the excesses of Christmas I met with Matt and Ian at Heathrow airport on Thursday evening to fly to Delhi and start a 17 day trip of sightseeing to India. After months of copious planning we were excited to be seeing the world’s seventh largest country with a population of 1.1 billion, its culture, its ruins and wildlife (and of course to do some cycling if an opportunity presented itself). The fourth member of the party Gary, an old Cardiff university friend, was due to meet us on the Saturday having flown from Darwin, Northern Australia where he now lives.

We arrived early on the Friday bamboozled by the early morning rush hour: All sorts of cars, rickshaws, cycles and ambassador taxis were madly trying to get ahead of each other and squeeze through impossible gaps in the traffic dodging cows, dogs, people and even the odd elephant in the attempt to get into Delhi. The rules of the road were simple - no rules! Just drive as fast as possible, break hard, blow your horn constantly and hope to get to your destination in one piece (similar to the TCA riding style)! Feeling a bit shaken up we eventually got to our hotel in the Paharganj Bazaar area.

Not being daunted, we decided to go straight to New Delhi Railway Station to get tickets for weeks ahead, part of our plan. However it is not easy being a Westerner in the streets of Delhi: After dicing with death crossing a road in front of the station, we could not get anywhere near the ticket office through being mobbed by masses of people, ricksaw drivers, tourist touts, street kids and sadly beggars despite being there being three of us. It was a draining experience. Help though was at hand, or so we thought. An official looking ticket collector said that he liked the UK and would take us to the official Tourist Office (instead of checking tickets?).

We got into a ricksaw and whizzed off to Connaught Place where we were taken to the Tourist office - Exotic Travel (recognised by the Gov.t of India - Dept of Tourism!), a non-public agency. We had walked straight into a scam! Things were made worse because I had hit my head, rather badly, getting out of the ricksaw and my head was streaming with blood rendering me a bit dizzy. Much to the amusement of the boys I received prompt Indian-style first aid comprising a fragrant ‘Duck‘ toilet cleaner as disinfectant and a big white tissue attached to the top of my head with office white adhesive labels. Finally we managed to hire a large taxi for four of us with driver available all day at just over £12 a day including petrol and unlimited mileage.

Using the taxi service, we saw all the sights in Delhi on Saturday and Sunday, The Raj Path (the centre piece of Lutyens Imperial New Delhi), the Red Fort (an imposing sandstone fort of the Moghul era), Jami Masjid (third largest mosque in the world closed to women), Hazrat Nizamudin (an intimidating old muslim part of the city) and Quith Minar (a fluted red sandstone tower with sacred arabic inscriptions) more like a factory chimney in our opinion. We also went to a “local employment site”.. another scam: Ian and I got duped into going and it turned out to be a carpet shop. Matt was not happy. After drinking cups of tea Ian and I scurried out and the Carpet sellers turned on Matt for putting us off from buying. What friendship!

Humayan’s tomb, a Moghul emperor mausoleum
constructed in 1564 and made of red sandstone,
inlaid with black and white marble.

By now we were getting into the our stride, getting up early to make the most of our days (Sort of 9am-ish) and on New Years Eve we left Delhi to get to Agra to see the Taj and the Red Fort. Our Taxi driver Shanka, though first took us to the great Moghul Emperor Akbar’s Mausoleum at Sikandra and the great deer park. After the busle and noise of Delhi, this serene and quiet oasis was welcome.

Moghul Emperor’s Mausoleum at Sikandra

In the afternoon, we visited the Taj Mahal. Despite the crowds and hype, this wonder of the world lives up to expectations. We stayed there until dusk seeing the different colour changes as the light diminished from white to cream to pearl to grey. Apparently the different colours supposedly reflect the different moods of women (sadly we had no women with us to put this theory into practice though). The palace was completed in 1653 by the Moghul Emperor Shah Jahan to enshrine his wife Arjumamand Bann Begum who died shortly after giving birth to her 14th child (Al and Trudy something to aim for?)! Poignantly he himself was overthrown by his son and interned at the Red Fort overlooking the Taj and the mausoleum of his favourite wife.

Ian, Matt and Jon by The Taj Mahal

On our return to the hotel a slight problem arose in that Matt and Ian found that they were sharing a double bed. However we had no choice and I can assure you that the beds were wider than ours in the UK so do’t be worried. By now it was becoming exceedingly cold and actually it felt rather like a cold winters night in Blighty. Apparently, Northern India was experiencing above average cold temperatures but we still wrapped ourselves in most of our clothes - in Gary’s case everything he had. We had our New Years day dinner on the roof terrace overlooking Agra and huddled around some coal fires with some Australian girls who sadly had no sense of humour and, much to the annoyance of Matt, had drunk the last of kingfisher beer on the premises! The night was close to being a disaster but not giving up, and after some fraught and tense exchanges, the waiter agreed to go out and get some more beer !

Matt and Gary's rooftop New Year's Eve

On New Years day we saw the Red Fort(another one!) followed the one overlooking the Taj and then Fatepur Sikri, the great imperial capital of the great Moghul emperor Akbar, built between 1569 and 1585. It was the biggest historical set of buildings we had so far seen. We soon discovered the reason for this: Mr Akbar had three hundred wives!

Later we arrived at Bharatpur, at the Birders Inn and another problem with a hotel. Ian had booked through an internet travel site who had accepted his money but not booked the hotel! We stayed elsewhere the first night and this time Gary and I had to make do with a double bed, and stayed at the Birders Inn the next two nights where, to our relief we were all furnished with single beds. Despite this we only ate at the Birders on the first night after which we realised it had a rather stuffy family atmosphere. Not to be intimidated, Gary decided to wheel off some jokes of highest crudity and offence (not humour I am afraid) - to all sexes races and genders the world knows - which soon had the desired effect. Clearance of the restaurant apart from us. It was a Champion as Gary would say impersonating the type of person sharing a bed with another of the same sex. Eventually we had to finish our drinks in our rooms!

Gary and Jon's nightcap

On Wednesday, we arrived our usual early time and promptly arranged for a guide to take us round Kaleodo National Park. No Siberial Cranes there now but 'wow!' what birds, Sarus Cranes, Jabiru, Grey Hornbill, Spotted Owlet, Collared Scops Owl, Grey Nightjar, Brown crake, Long-tailed and Bay-backed Shrikes, Egyptian vultures, White-naped Woodpecker, White-throated kingfisher, Greater Coucal, Oriental Magpie Robin, to name a few. Another highlights included a massive Python snake and we managed to get on our bikes around the various lakes and marshes seeing the birds (below).


The following day, we were even more adventurous taking a boat trip around huge reservoir and by now the boys were eagerly spotting birds. Gary thought he saw a white crane but it turned out to be a large white bag, and then Matt started discussing the varities of “Tomtits“ thoroughly confusing our guide (They were not in the bird guide) Lots more birds though, including Asian Openbill, Glossy Ibis and Slender-Billed Vulture.

Our boat trip on the reservoir: Name those birds

Now over half way through our trip, on the 5th January, the Saturday we started off from our Safari Hotel at Ramthambourne National Park and a 5 o'clock wake up gave us a shock. It was also exceeding cold and we wrapped ourselves all in our bed rugs to keep warm. We were in an open top canter bus and soon realised the bumpy tracks were not good for dodgy bottoms. We went Safaring in the morning and afternoon and trumped with 3 Tigers. Great views although the guide would not let us get any closer (something to do with our safety.) This was definitely another highlight of the trip seeing the colours and size of these beasts. We were extremely lucky and realised that some people had been at the hotel for some days and not seen then. As well as the Tigers we saw deer, antelope, mongooses, crocs, turtles as well as birds, For birders, Crested Serpent Eagle, Red-necked Falcon, Coppersmith Barbet and Pin-tailed Green Pigeon were highlights.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrr....!

Unfortunately it soon became evident that I was the only one without Delhi Belly and was the last man standing, an accolade later regretted. It was clear by now that “Throne King” Matt was spending even more time than usual in the toilets - which is saying something. (This is expensive if you have to go toilets during the day as you have give a tip every time on the road).

After Ranthambourne National Park we travelled up to Jaipur known as the Pink City rather appropriate for us now as the Indians could not understand where our girlfriends were! (Not to mention the double beds we had at hotels). In the rough guide it looked no distance and Shanka said it was only just over 200 miles. We soon realised that it was going to take all day because there were just rough tracks many through fields but we eventually arrived safely.

Despite seeing the Amber Fort, our stop at Jaipur was really a staging post for Delhi and our final stop on the trip, Varansi, an ancient Holly Hindu City overlooking the Ganges. In Hindu religion, anyone who dies here receives instant enlightenment so may old people came, many poor and on the streets, came here to die. There are of course many cremations from the ghats on the river as well.

We arrived by train early on Tuesday to a crowd of taxi drivers and hotel touts at the platform. We took refuge in a breakfast bar and took a run for it towards a ricksaw and driver who did not look a crook waiting to rip us off. The drivers and touts though followed and surrounded us shouting and gesticulating for business. After a stand-off and us telling then to shut it, we realised that we had to go with a dodgy taxi driver and hotel tout as ricksaws were not allowed to take us. Despite us telling him, the hotel tout proceeded to take us to his hotel and not ours. We got left stranded in a dark alleyway, soiled with excrement and with a dead dog - probably the worst low we had on out trip. However, we headed downwards towards the river looking for our riverside hotel with a terrace dodging cows, beggars and touts. We found it and booked in but found hotel rule 7 prohibited alcohol. Obviously worried, Matt got me later to get my bins to scan the roof top terraces of other hotels to find other supplies but to no avail: Alcohol was banned in Varanasi.

During the three days we visited ghats where some of the cremations took place as well as visited the Red Fort, yet another one! We did the usual tourist trip of boating up and down the Ganges which is meant to be best at dawn but we did not quite mange that (the Ganges after sunrise was as horrible as the city, with even more dead things in it). At Sarnath, outside the city, we saw a cluster of Budhist ruins and temples where its founder Siddarttha Gautama, the awakened one, give his first sermon in the sixth century bc. From here back to Varanasi, we set up a “Clarkson Challenge” between Ian and I in one ricksaw and Gary and Matt in another to get back quickest. The experience is far better than a play station! (It was a dead heat)

We returned back to Delhi on a high having seen everything we wanted, not having fallen out with each other, suffered beer shortages, scams, beggars, bowel eruptions and double beds and got back to the UK on Sunday 14th January.

(Posted by: Jon)

A Postcard from East Anglia

Maalie's recent visit to East Anglia included a stay with old school friend Stuart and his wife Christine, in Kenton, deepest Suffolk.

Oulton Broad on a frosty morning

Shortly after arriving, it was clear that more beer was required to sustain all parties through the weekend and Maalie and Stuart were despatched to the nearest location where such supplies were available, namely, Debbenham, some 5 miles away.

Maalie and Stuart set off on a vital mission
( Barney looks on)

With carbon footprint in mind, the obvious transport choice was bicycle. The stocks of beers (an 18-can case) safely strapped to Stuart's rear rack (You can see the yellowish case of beer on the rack of the right hand bike in line with the pub's sign pole below), Maalie suggested, in true TCA tradition, a pint in the local, the Woolpack, where a selection of guest real ales was available. The choice of the day was Exmoor Gold.

Stuart checks the bike is in order

(Posted by: Maalie)

Postcard from Patagonia

During my trip to Patagonia I stayed for three days at Estancia Alice on the shores of Lago Argentina (the largest lake in Argentina) near El Calafate in the foothills of the Patagonian Andes at 50.20S,72.31W. It was here that I was able to hire a Raleigh M20 mountain bike for an hour to remind my cycling muscles that they had not been forgotton while away from Maalie court.

Maalie in the Patagonian steppes:
In the middle distance is Lago Argentino
with the foothills of the Andes behind.
(The high peaks are concealed in cloud)

The bike was evidently well-used by visitors to the ranch, it was very squeaky and must have recently run into something as the front wheel was slightly elliptical and, until I got used to it, it felt like I was riding one of those trick cycles with an excentric wheel. Nevertheless it was serviceable and fit for my purpose.

Andes are for men:
The Moreno Glacier in the Patagonian Andes
with Chilean Firebush in the foreground

Alone in a foreign country, I was reluctant to wander too far off-road alone and contented myself with a spin (15km) along the shore of Lago Argentino on the road through steppe habitat. At 6.30am there was no traffic to concern me, but birds seen included Andean Condor, Upland Goose, Southern Lapwing and Black-chested Buzzard-Eagle.

Read more about my trip here: Part 1; Part 2; Part 3.

(Posted by: Maalie)

Postcard from Australia: A little pain never hurt anyone

A 'winter' ride Down Under by 'Friend of the TCA' Simon here:

A Little Bit of What you Fancy Doesn't do you any Good at all...

"... do not let any day go by.
If you think "you should".. then YOU SHOULD!"

Hear, hear say the TCA!

Postcard from Cumbria: Maalie's New Wheels

A write-up of a route taking in the tarns of the Furness Peninsula by

'Friend of the TCA' Maalie here:

Coffee & Cherry Flan:
Billy-Bob eat your heart out!

SPECIAL FEATURE: A Postcard from Australia

In this special guest posting Simon "Dundee" Cotter, avid commentator and friend of TCA, provides an insight into Mountain Biking in Australia, near his home in NSW. Bowen Mountain lies about 80km west of Sydney and is a joining the world Heritage listed Blue Mountains National Park. Close by is the Wollemi National Park, home to the famous Wollemi Pine. Here is an account of Simon's regular outing.

The Ride commences at the Craigo Oberser- vatory (left), which lies at the northern end of Bowen Mountains (33° 33' 50" S; 150° 37' 15" E) at a height of 469 m. It is an astronomical observatory (telescope: 16” ƒ/7 Dob) of the Astronomical Society of New South Wales. After 8kms or so the trail descends into the Burralow Valley; the track, formed from part of the original Bells Line of road. The Burralow Valley itself has an interesting history: Now a pleasant place for campers, it covers a couple of hundred acres and was Australia's first rice farm. Worked by convicts, the Burralow with its continual spring fed water supply, seemed an ideal location. Nothing remains of the original homestead, although ruins could be seen 20 years ago. Careful riding and observation will reveal the remains of the convict lock-up as well as some road forming.

The trail that desends from Bowen Mountain (right) is a strong mix of rough rock strewn fire trail with nasty sand wash outs, exposed cliff faces which are in stark contrast to the cool rain forests tha exist in the gullys. The descent is very steep in parts and due care is needed with the need to be well over the back wheel, swapping rapidly to a standing position to 'power' out of creeks and wash outs [I hope you're taking notes Billy-Bob, Ed.].

Upon arriving at the bottom and crossing Burralow creek, a continual steady climb to Bilpin is in order. The first 4 klm is steep enough that careful placement of body weight is essential. Too far forward, and the rear wheel will slip, to far back and and the front wheel lifts. Due application to "mind set” needs to be applied as well. The wrong gear or too fast at the start will cause the rider to mis judge and "blow" well before the summit. The ride from Burralow to Bilpin in this first 4 km is exposed, and the track has a “quartz like” look. The reflective element of the sun makes it very hot. 3 litres of water is advised, and plenty of sun block.

Simon's Bike, the "Marie Celeste"

On reaching the top the next 6-8km is a leisurely climb through small gums, and bush. Lunch at a favorite log is usually order of the day (above) before returning. In terms of time the ride can be broken down like this: Observatory to Burralow 20 minutes; Burralow to Bilpin 1 hour; Bilpin to Burralow 15 minutes; Burralow to Observatory 45 minutes, Such are the steep climbs.

There are a number of tracks leading off the main, e.g. Donna track & RAAF track. there are superb views of the Grose river gorges (left) and Mt Banks from the donna track especially. Highlight of the ride are the creeks and convict ruins as well as the stark contrast of exposed areas of track Vs sudden cool of rain forest. Wildlife often seen are Goanna, Brown snake, bearded Dragon, If you are lucky a Glossy Black Cockatoo, Stinky swamp wallaby or eastern Grey Kangaroo.

"G'day. Bonzer! Will ya look at this brute! Jeeze, stand back now kids or it'll have yer arm off!" Simon exclaimed before bracing the mighty beast's jaws open with a branch.

Things to watch out for:- A lot of the track is used by 4wds. Occasionally you will meet an idiot. it is best to be well to the left. Also the sand at the bottom of a decent can be tricky. Depending on the weather the sand can be very soft causing loss of momentum and a spill. Quite a risk if you are on your own.

(Posted by: Simon)