Day 13 – Bladnoch to Dumfries
Derek is a native of Dublin but has been in the hospitality business all his life. Since leaving Ireland he’s worked in Germany but for the last 26 years he has owned and managed the Bladnoch Inn.
It looks inviting from the outside and is what I expect from a British pub but, as any fule kno, the pub trade is not good, and Derek would like to sell and retire. Costs of everything, lack of staff and the ability of most people to afford to go to the pub regularly have led to a black hole that looks unlikely to change.
We put the bike in the restaurant for the night, and I went up and showered and changed. The room has low ceilings and two single beds. There were enough power points to charge everything and a good heater which I used to dry shoes and socks. My cycling kit was washed and dry by morning. I went downstairs and had a pint of Belhaven best whilst I thought about eating. In walked Tim a lady cyclist born in the Netherlands but living on Strangford Lough in Northern Ireland for long enough to sound like a native to me. I must have cycled past her door on my circumnavigation of Ireland in 2018. We chatted about cycling and the weather. She was meeting her son and D-I-L to cycle around the area and wished me well before cycling on to Wigtown where she is staying. Apparently Wigtown is the National Book town of Scotland – bet you didn’t know that (nor did I) and hosts an annual literary festival in the autumn.
Another pint of Belhaven and I ordered lasagne and garlic bread and had sticky toffee pudding and ice cream to round it off. All good. Stomach dealt with I went up to compose the blog which was done by 10 so I thought I’d venture down for a last drink before bed. Derek was behind the bar and Dave, a retired policeman was on the Guinness. Having poured the drinks Derek came and sat with us at the bar and we had an interesting, free ranging and wide discussion. Dave had had a 30 year career with Glasgow’s finest, including escorting the Princess Royal on her frequent visits to Scotland. I told them a bit of my history and I learned about them. Bladnoch has a thriving boxing club that has produced several good fighters and it was Dave’s father who founded the club. I told them about the blog and Dave suggested I should write a book about my cycling adventures and bring it to the Wigtown festival. I opined that the market is flooded with people writing about their cycle journeys; but never say never. It was an enjoyable evening and after 1130 before we went our separate ways.
No breakfast at the Bladnoch Inn, so I was away at 0902. In order to head east I first needed to go north, so that I could cross the river Cree at Newton Stewart. The road was good and the traffic light and there was a cycle path that followed the river bank up to a pedestrian bridge
The sun was shining, and the forecast was for good weather all day. Just beside the bridge was an Aldi so I went in and bought a BLT sandwich, a couple of hard boiled eggs and a pack of Jaffa cakes (the nearest thing to toast and marmalade I could think of). I sat in the sun and ate my breakfast before continuing. Knowing that I was cycling over 70 miles and that some of the terrain looked lumpy, I made a mental note to stop and get off the bike to stretch my legs every ten miles or so.
I headed south towards Creetown where I joined a cycle track that must have been an old railway line but didn’t admit to it. I’ve since researched it, and It was part of the Glasgow and South western railway line between Dumfries and Stranraer and was known affectionately as the Paddy Line. I probably crossed over it several times during the day but the section I was on ran to Gatehouse of Fleet.
I was now on the high moors and had an exhilarating run down to Kirkcudbright which I reached about lunchtime. By the harbour I spotted the Scran Van and had a delicious bowl of Cullen skink and a cup of tea
More climbing away from the River Dee but my regular stops had the desired result and the effort was pleasurable. I was about half-way into the journey with more climbing and descending to Dalbeattie – wonderful rolling countryside, much softer contours than the Highlands with sheep and cattle enjoying the sun
I chased a hare down the road for 100 yards or so until he ducked into the gateway.
The strange thing about today was that I had purposely chosen to follow the coast as much as possible, but it was 60 miles into my journey before I saw the Solway Firth.
The direct route from Bladnoch to Dumfries was about 56 miles but my route added another 20 or so. I can’t say I feel cheated because I have enjoyed my day: I arrived at my destination just before 6pm having lost myself in Dumfries. Back to England tomorrow with a shortish trip along the Solway Firth to Gretna and down to Silloth.
