Awoke to more rain (most miserable start so far), but enjoyed a lovely breakfast before setting off on a massive climb up into the highlands of Scotland. After climbing in the driving rain and strong winds that blew Tom and I clear across the road at one point (fortunately, nothing coming in the other direction at the time), we reached a huge lay-by where we sheltered behind a mobile burger van (after purchasing 4 teas of course) for a brief respite. We chomped on large cookies, courtesy of Cozza, and then had our photo taken with a bagpipe busker (who was rubbish by the way, despite what Tom and Jon may say to the contrary) before continuing into more headwind and a particularly long uphill drag. After enjoying some much needed sunshine and a fantastic descent into Crianlarich (approx 42 miles) we paused at a terrific pub for lunch (Cozza’s ‘hot pot’ winning the prize for best food choice). The next part of the ride took us along by the banks (the bonnie bonnie ones) of Loch Lomond where some poor road surfaces gave me a face full of mud from Jon’s substantial wheels and we picked the worst spot of the trip to stop for a pee (involved walking up a hill and trying to avoid the attentions of several passing ramblers). Still, the slight change in direction helped the pace and I took the lead for a while as we headed towards the outskirts of Glasgow. After missing a turning (Jon not paying attention to GPS) we walked back along the side of a busy dual carriageway for a couple of hundred yards before we finally arrived in the outskirts of Glasgow (not the nicest part of our trip) where the GPS suddenly indicated a right turn that wasn’t there. After a moment or two of confusion we spotted a sign for Clyde Tunnel (Cycle Route) on our left. Our brief moment of elation turned quickly to despair when we noticed the entrance blocked by strong iron gates. However, we were almost immediately met with the words ‘I can let you through two at a time’ from a voice emanating from the nearby intercom. Sure enough, the gates opened and we were soon enjoying a change in the day’s experience which gave us all a nice lift. After thanking the mystery voice via the CCTV camera we paused for a quick pit stop in a nearby park (probably more akin to a different kind of pedalling) before continuing towards our final climb of the day. At the foot of the climb we paused briefly at a petrol station where Jon complained for the first time of sharp pains in his knees. Nevertheless, with time pressing we pushed on for what seemed like an eternity through a series of false summits until we finally crested the top with very little daylight to spare (particularly if, like me, you still had your sunglasses on). The descent, because of the fading light, was (as Corinne subsequently pointed out) particularly quick, but we soon arrived at our destination (Alpine Lodge) in Crosshouse with the light pretty much gone. After a brief moment of euphoria at our achievement, we were met by our landlady who informed us that the hotel was closed due to a power problem (no heating or lighting). ‘They’ve been trying to contact you for a couple of days’ she said. As our hearts sank she invited us in and explained that we were being transferred to a nearby (not really!) alterative hotel and then offered us complementary tea, coffee, or something stronger (nudge nudge!) while we waited. With spirits once again raised we chatted about the success of the day until our transport arrived. On arrival at our new hotel we dashed to the restaurant (no time for showering) to be informed that there was only four choices (scampi, chicken, fish, and steak) as the chef, and I quote, had to ‘catch his bus home’. Despite this, the food was good and we even managed to tease some more chips and a few desserts out of them.