I've been avidly reading Mike Carter's account of his travels around Scotland. Is this the sort of thing which us townies dream of? I think so. Really, we'd much rather be cycling down a lonely glen than getting squeezed between several double-deckers ... here's a sample from this week's offering from Mike:
"I rode along the Ayrshire coast, the magnificent muffin-shaped island of Ailsa Craig seemingly acting as a pivot point as I swept around the wide bays, a quick loop around the Stranraer peninsula and then along the bank of the Solway Firth, indented with sandy coves and estuaries. For the first time in nearly two months I could see England, the hills of the Lake District rising in the distance, shimmering across the water like some mystical Avalon. I felt a tad emotional. Which was ridiculous, of course, but idealised and sentimental notions of home burn brightly. And somehow, when you have travelled every yard under your own steam, the sense of journey is magnified a thousand-fold".
Great stuff. More can be found on the Observer website