Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
We eventually reached the hamlet of Ardlui at the northern end of Loch Lomond. It was
7pm and we were ready to call it a night. Ardlui has a hotel and a campsite but we had no
luck finding accommodation at either.
'There's a few places in Crianlarich - that's the next village - that you could try,' said
the man at the campsite.
'Ok, thanks. How far is that?' I asked.
'Ooooh, it's only another 3-4 miles.'
'Crianlarich, baby!' said Ben.
Crianlarich was closer to ten miles further up the road, and every inch of it was uphill.
Both of my hands were raw from rubbing on the handlebars and my back felt as though I
hadbeensnappedinhalf.Itwasoneofthemostpainfulday'scyclingofthetrip,anditwas
made worse by the belief that it was supposed to be our easiest.
I know that it's a cliché, but cycling - and all other physical activities, for that matter -
is completely reliant on being in the correct mental zone. In order for your body to achieve
its full potential, you need to be able to focus all of your mental energy into distancing
yourself fromanypain, discomfort, andthe realisation ofthe challenge that youare facing.
I'm not speaking from experience here, by the way; I'm quoting from a book that I read. I
have never reached this mental zone and every form of physical exercise I have ever done
has caused severe amounts of pain and discomfort.
It was almost dark by the time we reached Crianlarich. We followed signposts to the
Crianlarich Youth Hostel, which we felt confident would be able to help us out. Our hopes
were dashed by a smiling, bearded man, who told us, politely, that there were no rooms
available at all, and that no we couldn't sleep on the floor, or sleep in his office, and no he
didn't have a tent that we could borrow. Instead, we got into a long conversation with him
about CAMRA (the campaign for real ale), but I'm not sure why, or what the relevance to
our trip was. But if you are ever in the area and want to talk to someone about beer, then
the guy at the Crianlarich Youth Hostel is your man.
'We're buggered,' said Ben, once we were outside. 'If a Youth Hostel won't let us stay,
then what chance have we got of finding somewhere?'
'Don't worry. We say this every night. That bloke at the campsite said there were loads
of options here. We'll find somewhere.'
'Yeah, but that bloke also said it was just a couple of miles up the road. And he forgot
to mention that it was halfway up a bloody mountain.'
We pushed our bikes back into the village and called into Londis to ask for some food.
The man behind the counter said he was unable to help, but suggested that we try the Ben
More Lodge for somewhere to stay, which was just on the road out of the village.
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