Archev's adventures in the Berlingo

[Gomev]

...

The only snag is that it would mean missing the Wimbledon finals.

Depending on phone signal or available wifi take a phone/tablet/laptop and BBC Iplayer and watch in the wild. (You won't even need Iplayer just the BBC website will have it on.)

 

[Rolfe]

I'm doubtful about the phone signal but in any case I intend to be cycling in the sunshine all afternoon. I might be able to catch up a bit in the evening, signal permitting.

 

[Archev]

Depending on phone signal or available wifi take a phone/tablet/laptop and BBC Iplayer and watch in the wild. (You won't even need Iplayer just the BBC website will have it on.)

There’s always a hill twixt mast and me

 

[Archev]

Filled up Berlingo to 93% ready for departure on Wednesday morning. Finally set off around 11:30 and drove 74 miles to Ayr. Well, I tried to do that but the road out of town was closed so I had to retrace my wheel tracks and head up onto the M9 via Linlithgow. Junction seven roundabout exit slip was coned off I think due to roadworks so I had to do another orbit to gain the slingshot assistance needed to head to, and laboriously through, the fine but clogged town of Falkirk. The fabulous weather over the next couple of days meant virtually shunning the fine vehicle until after 21:00 last night (Friday). During that time I walked back and forwardeds along Ayr’s beautiful beach admiring the awesome warrior on Arran shimmering in the distance. Ailsa Craig was looking fabulous peeking round the Heads of Ayr from the south and the glorious sandy beach was bejewelled with the glistening bodies of hundreds of large jellyfish.
Sadly I can’t show any pictures of these wonders because I simply, a - blethered too much, b- hadn’t charged the phone overnight, and c - forgot whilst I just took in the wonderment of it all.
Thursday afternoon’s walk was at Alloway where I was introduced to the old railway tunnel. What a fantastic piece of mega artwork inspired by the wonderful imagery derived from the poetry of the Bard himself Robert Burns. He was born just along the road and there are endless references to his works over the entire area and miles beyond, to his fabulous poetic work (OK, I’m a bit of a fan )
I can’t believe that I’d never been to, or through the disused rail tunnels during my many stays at Aunty’s in my formative years.
They’ve built a (beautiful I admit) huge Burns museum with lovely cafe etc right over the spot where Aunty Peggy’s beautiful wooden cottage stood. Honestly, if only she could see her and husband Davy’s gorgeous “Rosedale” area now.
Still, the times have moved on, modernity mon ride, as Peggy, Davy and no doubt Mr Burns himself might have mused.
The main tunnel is close behind “Alloway’s auld haunted Kirk” just up the road a couple of hundred yards from the Brig o’ Doon. These latter around which Burns fashioned his phenomenal poem “Tam o’ Shanter” ( quick - no slow pause while I have yet another read through his fabulous words )
But, tae oor tunnel, the artwork is astonishing, the detail is breathtakingly beautiful, and it goes on and on forever past the “mosses, waters, slaps and styles” och I loved it, you’ve got to see it.
In fact, you can join me through it with a couple of my many pictures. I managed the get a wee bit of charge in my phone and so recorded some of it —

So the keystone of the bridge was safely crossed and we escaped the clutches of Tam’s “ Hellish Legions”. The rest of the day was serenely peaceful and each in “ our cold hands “ held a choc ice as we wandered onwards.

I left my friend‘s house at nine last night and drove a peacefully pleasant seventy six miles home. I shunned thoughts of Arnold Clark’s chargers through Ayr and Kilmarnock. I laughed in the face of a slight detour to the Tesla chargers at Heartlands. I mused every mile over the hills that the dwindling reports from GOM might see me stuck forever on a Bathgate hillside.
But I needn’t have concerned myself. The redness of my face was not from anger nor anguish. It was merely because a stupid old guy had left his sombrero in the garage.

Oh! and Berlingo ambled triumphantly down home to feed from the Ohme cable happily overnight. The god GOM finally predicted that we could have ventured forth for sixteen more miles except the mortal pilot was completely worn out.
The overnight session has stuffed the battery to a more than ample 89% which will do nicely for the next voyage tonight/ tomorrow when I’m heading up to Glamis Castle to the Vintage Vehicle Extravaganza in the glorious grounds spread out before it.

But that’s another story ……….


The cost of all that amusement???
It has stretched my meagre coffers alarmingly -
Perhaps the naysayers are correct all along
Maybe a nice wee ice car could have rattled, squealed and conveyed me there and back for less than my Berlingo’s £5 demand ??


Yeah - I don’t think so, long live ev’s and Berlingo

 

[Susanna]

@Archev - such amazing descriptions of your travels, and stunning photography too. Thank you so much