What better way to appreciate Scottish scenery than from the saddle of a bicycle, asks CATHERINE MACK
‘THINK thin thoughts,” a man wearing only a T-shirt and boxer shorts announces with a smile as he squeezes past me and my friend Laura, so close we get a minty waft of his freshly brushed teeth. It’s almost midnight, and I am standing in the corridor of the Caledonian Sleeper train, whizzing through English countryside en route from London to Pitlochry, in the Highlands of Scotland.
It is the start of a girlie cycling weekend, a sort of mini-hen, as Laura is getting married in a few weeks. Chicken may be more appropriate in my case, as Laura is about 20 years my junior, at least 10kg lighter and a regular cyclist. Tucked up in my cosy bunk bed, dozing off to the gentle rocking of the train, my Lycra leggings laid out in anticipation, I am indeed trying to think thin thoughts, as well as fit ones, young ones and, finally, sleep ones.
Before I know it it’s our 6.30am half-hour call, before disembarking in misty Pitlochry. The bike provider isn’t open until a more respectable hour. (If you travel by day you can get going straight away.) Our weekend has been organised by Velodays, run by a passionate cyclist named Neil Innes, who is keen to get tourists seeing Scotland from a saddle. He has spent years cycling around various parts of the world, but he recognises that plenty of tourists want to cycle but don’t want to do 100km a day, stay in hostels and survive on energy bars. A bit of serious independent cycling, carefully planned routes, good hotels, fine food and a white bath robe at the end of the day is what we’re talking about.
Which leads us to breakfast. We knock on the door of a local hotel, aptly called Scotland’s Hotel, which is more than happy to host us. Thin thoughts are on hold as we tuck into smoked salmon and scrambled eggs, and knock back coffee, perusing our itinerary for the next three days.
Pitlochry is bang in the heart of Scotland, otherwise known as the Central Highlands. This sounds poetic to most tourists, but with about 100km to cover by bike this weekend the emphasis on “high” is becoming more and more daunting.
Blue skies have pushed their way through the mist, so we pick up our bikes, stuff luggage into the panniers and put the maps away. No more Ordnance Survey for us, as Innes has programmed a GPS device that clips to the handlebars. Luckily, there is no annoying voice to direct us, just a subtle beep.
Within about two minutes we have left picturesque Pitlochry, taking a magnificent Victorian iron footbridge over the wide expanse of the River Tummel and climbing a gradual incline (to use a technical term) into the rest of Perthshire.
Our GPS leads us along a ridge overlooking the River Tay, the main natural artery of the region. It’s a bit like following the yellow brick road, watching the GPS’s arrow, not quite knowing what lies ahead. Innes also provides a folder with descriptions and maps, but I quite like the mystery-tour feel to it all.
To my relief today’s route could more aptly be named Highlands Lite. Gently undulating hills, hawthorn hedgerows in full bloom, glistening lochs and icy rivers, with the peaks just far enough in the distance, some still capped by snow. The only hints of white down here are from the endless flocks of lambs, providing free entertainment to distract me from any exertion. As Laura cycles merrily up the hills, I have the perfect excuse to stop and dote over newborns.
This yellow brick road is a predominantly affluent one, starting with manicured hedges and fields, vast stone houses with luscious gardens sweeping down to rocky riverbanks, and no shortage of 4x4s. As we climb higher, however, the palette of daffodil-filled lawns and apple orchards turns to the subtler creams of wild primrose, which clings to the bulging roots of ancient oaks. The roads narrow and cars disappear. Even the sheep look a bit wilder, their baas turning to a cacophony of boos as we, and our beeping machine, invade their space.
We waste no time choosing watering holes on this trip, with the GPS guiding us to pubs and cafes. For lunch we head to Aberfeldy’s restored Watermill cafe, gallery and bookshop, ideal for both browsing and devouring. It is only about a kilometre off our route, which is a feature of Innes’s itineraries: everything is within easy reach of the cycle trail, something we could never have worked out had we been trying to do it on our own.
The choice of accommodation is also infallible, as we find out later that day, arriving in the tiny village of Fortingall, 37km from our starting point. If Fortingall looks as if it was designed by the taste police, that’s because it was. It was the inspiration of the arts-and-crafts architect James MacLaren in 1880, and Fortingall Hotel is central to his achievements.
It is a four-star family-run hotel that is not too posh to shun sweaty cyclists. Small comfortable lounges, roaring fires and, yes, the huge bath and fluffy white robe I had been dreaming of for about the final 10km.
I bask in bubbles, sipping a dram of complimentary whisky, and collapse on my bed for an hour before dinner. Then I realise why the sheep were booing. They must have smelled the fine Perthshire lamb on the menu. How fickle we are, I think, as we tuck in with gluttonous grins.
Day two is the toughest, so we drag ourselves from the luxury of Fortingall at 9am and head for Strathyre, 54km away. Innes has directed us along the south side of Loch Tay, Perthshire’s largest lake, which is 23km long. This road hangs a few kilometres above the water’s edge, and is almost devoid of four-wheeled traffic.
Our pace increases as we gain confidence, warm up the muscles and enjoy the rewards of flying downhill – although there’s a Highland chill in the air despite the extraordinary sunshine. The smell of pine forest, dewy ferns and moss- covered rocks, fed by endless waterfalls, keep us going to our halfway point of the day, at Killin. Here, all streams and cyclists meet at the Falls of Dochart, where we demolish superb salmon sandwiches and chips at its eponymous inn.
This marks our official move into Loch Lomond and the Trossachs National Park. The main road out of Killin is humming with motorbikes, so we are relieved to be going off-road here, on to a cycle track that cuts through Acharn forest and into the greater expanse of Glen Ogle. We ride along a disused railway line that runs through the glen, climbing for several kilometres – technical term: steep incline. This is the only point where I let the hill beat me, and walk gently, but happily, in submission to nature.
The dramatic views coming through Glen Ogle towards Loch Earn are what we came to Scotland for – and on a sunny day in April we are still the only ones here to enjoy them.
All downhill to our final port of call at Strathyre. Creagan House is categorised as a restaurant with accommodation, where the emphasis is more on fine cuisine than on contemporary design. Cherry and Gordon Gunn have been serving dinner in a mock baronial hall, added on to their 17th-century farmhouse, for more than 20 years. The Gunns’ hospitality is faultless, and dinner is superb – although Gordon’s signature starter dish of Smokie Pokie, fresh salmon and haddock wrapped in smoked salmon, is enough to feed a team of cyclists.
Laura and I get a bit giggly about the twee(dy) decor here, until we go walking in their gardens the next morning. They back on to Queen Elizabeth Forest Park, which is more than 15,000 hectares of protected landscape. Within metres of the house about five waterfalls tumble through pine forest where red squirrels nonchalantly jump from rock to rock and branch to branch. We learn our lesson: you don’t have to have cool, contemporary design everywhere you go when you have nature’s best served on a silver platter.
After Gordon’s superb breakfast of kippers, fruit compote and oatcakes we hop back on our bikes for the final day’s cycle, just one loch to our last stop, at Callander. We follow the off-road trail along Loch Lubnaig and its bordering forest, which offers good shade from the drizzle. I savour every waterfall, tree, flower, lamb and Highland cow as our trip draws to a close, and am finally jolted from my meditative state as we cycle into Callander. It feels like an alien metropolis after the peaceful utopia of its neighbouring hillside tracks.
Our GPS gives a final optimistic beep in the direction of Roman Camp hotel, at the far end of the town – which is only a couple of streets long – tucked off the main street amid eight hectares of gardens. We curl up by the fire of this 17th-century country house for soup and sandwiches as the rain really kicks in.
Sadness is also kicking in, as our bikes are collected, the GPS switched off and the panniers emptied. Our sleeper home is booked from Stirling, a bus ride away and a bit of an anticlimax after the past few days.
Back aboard the train we squeeze past a few people en route to our berth. Breathing in, I look at Laura and smile, knowing the weekend should not end just yet. “Think gin thoughts?” I ask. We turn and head for the bar, where we raise a glass to the best Highland fling we could have hoped for.
** Catherine Mack was a guest of Velodays and Visit Scotland (www.visitscotland.com/perfect day)
Where to stay and eat
Where to stay
Velodays (www.velodays. com, 00-44-1224-220020) will arrange your accommodation, bikes and itinerary. It has a choice of routes, including Edinburgh to Inverness, the Grampian Highlands, the Moray Firth and the Scottish Borders weekends – perfect for including as part of a longer trip to Scotland’s cities or islands. Trips cost from £244pps (€275), including two nights’ BB, itinerary, bike and GPS hire. If not taking the sleeper train, a long weekend of four nights’ BB costs £417 (€465) per person, based on two people sharing a room.
Fortingall Hotel. Fortingall, Aberfeldy, 00-44-1887-830367, www.fortingall.com.
Creagan House. Strathyre, Callander, 00-44-1877-384638, www.creaganhouse.co.uk.
Roman Camp. Off Main Street, Callander, 00-44-1877- 330003 www.roman-camp- hotel.co.uk.
Where to eat
The Watermill. Mill Street, Aberfeldy, 00-44-1887-822896, www.aberfeldywatermill.com. Browse through a fantastic collection of books, collapse on sofas and tuck into home-made soup, baguettes and cakes.
Falls of Dochart Inn. Gray Street, Killin, 00-44-1567- 820270 www.falls-of-dochart- inn.co.uk. Great views over the wide expanse of waterfalls while eating fine local food.
Go there
Caledonian Sleeper trains (www.scotrail.co.uk) run between London and Scotland. PO Irish Sea (www.poirishsea.com) sails between Larne and Troon, from where you can take a train to Pitlochry. Ryanair (www.ryanair.com) flies from Dublin, Belfast, Derry and Shannon to Glasgow Prestwick, and from Dublin and Shannon to Edinburgh. Aer Lingus (www.aerlingus. com) flies from Dublin and Cork to Edinburgh, and from Dublin to Glasgow. You can take a train to Pitlochry from either city.