Day three of our Dumfries trip and we’re doing okay. Apart from many aches, after all the packing arguments we’ve still got it wrong and it seem to take about an hour every morning before I can ride in a straight line or go round a corner well.
Although that sounds rather gloomy, it’s all good stuff. Better to figure this out while we’ve still got a garage to mess about in and we’re still on home turf. As we suspected the mechanics of riding every day, setting up camp and self catering as much as possible was going to take a little practice and patience.
Unfortunately we had a major downpour yesterday which seemed to wash away any patience, common sense or prior camping knowledge. We resorted to the standard couple format of clipped sharp statements and lots of I told you so’s. Insult was then added to injury when a Motorhome pulled up and parked and was set up in a few minutes, while we continued to fight with our new flysheet. Oh how I missed my Motorhome last night, with it’s big comfy bed, indoor loo and electric kettle. But in the light of morning the rain had stopped and things seemed a little easier.
I’m writing this on the edge of a loch watching ferries go by with not a single soul around and if we’d been in a Motorhome we wouldn’t have got down here. So I guess the bike wins this time.