It was a beautiful Sunday in Appleby and I was moving a bit slowly. After a leisurely breakfast, I had more attempts to get connected to WIFI and decided to involve the manager. I needed to book a hotel for that night so it was quite important and after he had finished his animated conversation with another guest about playing silly mid-on at cricket in 1953, he turned his attention to my problem. He seemed to be surprised that WIFI could have such importance, but as far as he was aware it did work and that was the end of that. He was, however, able to release my bike from its overnight storage and I was on my way – almost. As usual I took a few goes at picking up the correct route. After bad experiences of setting off on the wrong route before, I am now a bit over cautious and check very carefully.

The guide promised “steep and frequent climbs” on the way towards Penrith and I wasn’t disappointed. It was a particularly hot and sunny day and I soon encountered my first traffic jam of the day. This took the form of the farmer’s wife blocking the lane to guide her flock into a field. We had a chat while waiting for the sheep to make up their minds about where to go and I had my first incredulous response to my intended destination for that day. I thought that I was covering modest distances on the journey and so this now familiar reaction, was becoming puzzling. I carried on my way and Gretna seemed a bit further after my chat with Mrs Farmer.

A bit further on, my ‘phone rang which is an unusual occurrence. It was my friend Colin who was on his way to London with his wife June and was suggesting that we meet at Penrith for lunch so by the wonder of modern communications we did meet up, which was a very pleasant surprise and gave me a respite from my soitary pedalling.

The route on to Carlisle from Penrith was through more pleasant Cumbrian lanes and I soon encountered my next stock movement hold-up. This time it was cattle and even with a robust lady (must be a convention for ladies to do this job) barring their way and shouting fiercely in her Cumbrian accent, I didn’t feel convinced that I wasn’t going to be trampled. I survived and moved on.

The last section to Carlisle from the village of Dalston was a particularly pleasant off-road route which led all the way to the centre of Carlisle. The sunshine had encouraged the entire populace to get their tops off and jump into any available water with magnificent tattoos to be seen everywhere. The route just skirts the edge of Carlisle so there was no opportunity for refreshments. The gaps in signage didn’t matter much because, for the first time since Land’s End, I was on known territory and got myself on the way to Gretna very easily. The distance to Gretna has been reduced since the M74 upgrade was completed and the big loop through Longtown which is shown in the guide is no longer necessary.

The only hotel that I could find to book was a motel at the Northbound services on the M74 and finding your way there on a bike is not easy and took a few  attempts but I did eventually get there about 7.20 after a mere 55 miles and 2,400 feet of ascent. Fish and chips from Harry Ramsden’s in the service area had to do for dinner. After 13 days I am back in Scotland.