One bottle of beer and a cream egg please
In retrospect I wonder what the checkout lad in the small supermarket in the village of Buchlyvie, near Aberfoyle, Stirlingshire, thought of the soggy looking female cyclist when she picked up and paid for a bottle of Sol and a cream egg on Friday afternoon.
No doubt you’ll have guessed that the soggy looking female was me. But unless you were one of the “hens” on this weekend’s Simply The Best Hen Weekend, which took place on a farm fairly near to Buchlyvie, then you’ll have no idea why I had spontaneously parked my bike outside the shop for a spot of basic shopping. To be honest, I think I was having a small moment of madness but perhaps you’ll see why when I explain the background to this strange shopping spree.
With the rain just about holding off on Friday I decided it would be a fine idea to cycle from Glasgow to the Simply The Best Hen Weekend. The other 10 or so Hens were driving or bussing it but I thought the ride would be great training for the Looming Calendonia Etape. Tri Club pal, The Mighty Vickster, had kindly given me a “back road” route and suggested I’d take no more than 2 hours to do the whole trip.
Only The Mighty Vickster is a great deal mightier than I on a bike and so, what with the long drag of the Crow Road (out of the back of Lennoxtown), another hill ascent to the Top Of The World, the frequent outbreaks of rain and drizzle, and something approaching one million pot holes to avoid on numerous wee roads it took me just a tiny bit longer to go from A to B.
In fact it took so long that the last 5 or 6 miles were cycled in darkness and my the time reached Buchlyvie not only was my stomach rumbling but it had long since passed Alcohol o’clock. Which is why when I spotted the small village store I suddenly had a hankering for food and drink. However with only limited space in my rucksack, there was no chance of fitting in the bottle of wine and the sandwiches that I really fancied so instead I chose One Bottle of Beer and a Cream Egg.
It is amazing how the very thought of that chilled beer and the sweet chocolate became enough to get me through those last few miles to the farm at Gartmore. The fact that I never actually got to taste either of these delicious products is a whole other story …