An epic motorbike adventure through Great Britain

Day 1: Edinburgh to John O’Groats (439km)

A year after we tackled Route 66, the mighty Mother Road that stretches from Chicago to LA in the US, Andrew Bonamour and I embarked on our next epic bike journey: Edinburgh to John O’Groats to Land’s End to London. (Read more about Dempers's adventures on Route 66.)

The ride would take us to Britain’s northern-most and southern-most points, but we also had our own mission to obliterate some stereotypes. We wanted to find some generous Scotsmen, some Englishmen with a decent set of teeth, and at least one Welshman whose surname was not Jones or Williams.

On any trip, first days tend to be a bit clunky. This one was no different. We had new bikes (Triumph Tigers) to get used to and the challenge of packing and securing our luggage.

We got going without too much fuss — until just over 1km into our journey when a bird decided to relieve itself all over me. Not the best feeling, but it’s supposedly good luck.

After a quick pull-over in Edinburgh’s early-morning traffic for a wipedown, we were on our way again.

The rented Tigers’ GPS systems had been pre-programmed with our daily routes — a massive plus as this meant we didn't regularly have to pull over and haul out our phones to check Google Maps.

We roared north, buoyed by the dry weather, the partial sunshine and the excellent visibility, by Scottish standards anyway.

We took the M90 north to Perth and then the A9 through Cairngorms National Park. After a quick fuel stop in Inverness and a hop across Loch Ness (no site of the monster), we roared up the east coast to John O’Groats.

The countryside was spectacular; lush forests and farmlands were followed by more sparsely covered and occasionally snow-topped hills in the Highlands around Inverness.

The road from Inverness to John O’Groats was the day’s highlight: narrow and winding, it hugged the coastline with the grey, misty ocean on the right and lush farmlands on the left. Ancient, low-stone walls carved up miles of thick, green grass dotted with bright yellow spring flowers as well as thousands of shaggy, lazy sheep that seemed to lie down a lot more than their South African cousins.

It was a long but beautiful first day on roads that were fairly busy but filled with calm and courteous drivers.

Day 2: John O’Groats to Invergarry (407km)

“Spring has arrived!” said friendly Ann at breakfast in our B&B. It was raining and cold with poor visibility and I made a mental note never to visit John O’Groats in winter.

We weren’t too concerned, though, as we were prepared for this. After our fresh eggs and square sausage, we kitted up in our rain gear.

And so it was a pair of Michelin men who waved Ann goodbye and headed west across Scotland’s north coast.

The weather came in waves that morning: patches of light rain, some buffeting wind, low cloud and poor visibility followed by drier, calmer spells.

Still, no amount of rain could ruin the scenery. The landscape was sparser than the day before with less green grass and more uninhabited, desolate hills (still dotted with lazy sheep though), white-sand beaches, a few vast lochs and so many beautiful rivers. 

We passed through quaint seaside villages including Dunnet, Tongue and Durness and rode right up to Cape Wrath, the most northwesterly point of mainland Britain.

Then it was down the west coast to Scourie, where we stopped to thaw out with hot soup.

The roads all the way to Scourie were narrow, wide enough for only a single vehicle most of the way, so it was pretty slow going.

Heading south, we cut inland to Loch Assynt, Drumnadrochit and then Invergarry (our overnight stop). The scenery changed once again, this time to magnificent, thick forests surrounding expansive lochs. The weather also changed to driving rain with plummeting temperatures for the rest of the afternoon. 

While this didn't ruin a truly spectacular day of motorbike meditation, I’ll fondly remember my excessively hot bath at Glengarry Castle Hotel in Invergarry for the rest of my life.

Day 3: Invergarry to Hawick (357km)

We woke to blue skies and sunshine and were thrilled when hotel reception confirmed it would be a wonderful day along our entire route.

The excitement clearly went to our heads as we packed away the rain gear and nipped out of Invergarry full of the joys of spring.

It was a spectacularly still morning. The surface of Loch Oich was like an enormous mirror reflecting the forests, mountains and skies. But 30km later, we were back in the wind and rain, scrambling on the side of the road to find our rain gear.

Never trust the Scots when they tell you it’s going to be a beautiful spring day!

The rain, drenching and cold, lasted a good few hours and the scenery was a welcome distraction.

We headed south along the banks of Loch Lochy to Fort William, past Ben Nevis with its snowy peaks, down through Glen Coe and up into the mountains past a ski resort and then through a national park along the banks of Loch Lommond.

Once again it was breathtakingly picturesque despite the driving rain. As we neared Glasgow, the lochs and dense forests made way for farmlands and more lazy sheep.

Once we were through Glasgow (an unexpectedly attractive city), the rain cleared and we dried out a wee bit while heading through more farmlands to Peebles, Selkirk and then on to our overnight stop in Hawick in the Scottish Borders region.

The next day, we would leave the lovely land of the lochs and enter a hopefully drier and warmer England.

Day 4: Hawick to Chester (300km)

We had a lazy start knowing the roads were good and we were in for a fast, easy ride with temperate weather.

Riding south from Hawick, we said goodbye to the lochs of Scotland and were soon in England, winding our way through the Lake District National Park.

As we crossed into England on a quiet country road, all the sheep transformed as if by magic into cows.

The Lake District was incredible, especially the quaint villages of Keswick and Grasmere and riding along the banks of Lake Windermere. William Wordsworth once described the area as “the loveliest spot that man hath ever found”. We could see why.

We had a quick lunch break in Kendal, then headed south again, bypassing Blackpool and Liverpool, hopping across the River Mersey and into Chester for our overnight stop.

Day 5: Chester to Upper Coxley (257km)

It was another rapturous day on the bike and we made quick work of getting out of Chester. In no time, we were across the border and into Wales, where the consonant is king and the vowel is frowned upon.

For part of the morning, we zig-zagged across the English-Welsh border through farmlands and tiny villages. It was easy to tell which country we were in: if we could pronounce the name of the village it was England; if not, it was Wales.

After a ride through the Brecon Beacons National Park and a lunch stop in Abergavenny, we headed south once more, skirting Newport and crossing the vast River Severn Bridge, which took us back into England.

Once through Bristol we wound our way up into the Mendip Hills Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty and then down into quaint Coxley in the county of Somerset.

Scratch that. Upper Coxley, as the very English host at our B&B put it over a cup of afternoon tea, “is a lot more grand than the rest of Coxley just down the lane!”

Day 6: Upper Coxley to Land’s End (295km)

We headed out on a beautiful spring morning — more blue skies and sunshine. Our route took us southwest and past Glastonbury, rumoured to be the site of the mythological kingdom of Camelot, ruled by King Arthur in medieval times, and on to Exeter in picturesque Devon.

It was a stupendous day to be on a bike soaking up the scenery. The massive English Oaks that stretch across many of the country lanes created bright green tunnels to ride through.

We travelled into Dartmoor National Park and across the moors to Tavistock, followed winding country lanes to Launceston, the ancient capital of Cornwall, and finally headed south-west on the motorway all the way to Land’s End.

After a long, tiring and exhilarating ride we reached the Land’s End post and queued with other tourists for the mandatory selfie. From there we headed to our guesthouse in nearby Penzance. Yes, we were sleeping in pirate country that night.

Day 7: Land’s End to Salisbury (343km)

There wasn’t huge enthusiasm at breakfast this morning for today’s ride. We both have a cold from getting soaked in northern Scotland and it’s another long day today, a good half of it on roads we have already ridden (there’s only one real access road in and out of west Cornwall).

We kitted up reluctantly and headed northeast for two hours on the same motorway that brought us to Land’s End. Once at Exeter, we left the motorway for a considerably more scenic route through previously un-navigated roads that took us into Dorset and briefly along the south coast through the beautiful market town of Bridport and then inland to historic Dorchester, where we stopped for a ploughman’s lunch.

Then it was a short hop to Salisbury and a much needed rest. London and the finish line tomorrow.

Day 8: Salisbury to London (141km)

After donning my very last pair of clean jocks and socks (planning is everything) and a eating quick, nasty buffet breakfast, we saddled up for the final time and were on the road early.

Our short route into London took us past Stonehenge, through some narrow country lanes for an hour or so, and then past Basingstoke, Reading and Guildford into London’s morning traffic.

I’m not sure what it is about the final days of these bike tours, but in the US we almost ran out of petrol on our last day and once again we came frighteningly close to doing that. In our excitement to cross the finish line, we neglected to fill up before leaving Salisbury. Fortunately we found a filling station just in time — being stranded 60km from London would have put a real damper on our trip.

We’d covered many memorable miles in our eight days, from the beautiful, barren and remote north coast of Scotland to its glassy, tree-lined inland lochs and the expansive lakes of northern England, the rolling hills and lush farms of Wales, and the picturesque southwest of England with its narrow, windy, hedged country lanes.

This has been another epic therapy session of motorbike meditation. I can see it fast becoming a habit and I’m already thinking about my next fix.

As for our mission to debunk those British stereotypes, the Scots did turn out to be generous — in their friendly hospitality and the way they embrace a really challenging climate.

The quest for good teeth and uncommon surnames, though, must continue on the next long ride.

Lessons from the road

• It's hard to buy "drugs" in Edinburgh. A pharmacist here refused to sell us each a box of Nurofen Cold & Flu tablets as we clearly knew each other.
• Scottish restaurants offer a selection of daily newspapers for their customers - and reading glasses for when the newsprint is a wee bit small.
• "Lovely day?" (with questioning tone) is the standard greeting at urinals. Don't ignore or it will be repeated. The appropriate response is "Aye, lovely day!" Both seem to apply no matter how awful the weather.
• "Haste ye back [come back soon]" is the standard sign at most village exits in the Highlands.
• Nothing will keep your hands warm as you hare through the Highlands on a motorbike at 100km/h – not even built-in hand warmers on your grips.
• Scottish salmon tastes even better when it hasn't made the long trek to Cape Town (and it's delicious in Cape Town).
• The Highland midge (feared in these parts) is the Scottish equivalent of the mosquito. We weren't bothered by them but found a proliferation of giant bugs across most of England and Wales. We stopped fairly often to wipe our visors. I would not recommend an open-face helmet for England in spring.
• The Seaview Hotel in John O'Groats has absolutely no sea view.
• Just because you speak the same language on paper doesn't mean you'll avoid communication breakdowns. Example: when we asked our host for tips on keeping our hands warm, she went into a long explanation of how her hens stay cosy in winter.
• Scotland is a nation of campers, vanners and motor-homers with a healthy dollop of cyclists, runners and hikers thrown in. They don't give a damn about the weather.
• When a northern Scottish woman tells you she's very broad, she's not talking about the size of her bum. She means her accent.
• There's no shortage of wildlife up north and none of them — deer, otters, red squirrels or sheep — look left before crossing the road.
• While the rest of the world makes do with tea and coffee in hotel rooms, the Scots do hot chocolate and shortbread.
• Find a remote, uninhabited place in Scotland and there's sure to be a red public phone booth, just standing there in the middle of nowhere.
• Sheep are exceptionally camera shy (or cunning). Every time I stopped to get a picture of them lying around, they got up and walked away, trying to look busy and not at all lazy.
• Highway off-ramps in northern England are about as rare as petrol stations in northern Scotland.
• UK politicians care little for Scottish votes. We didn't see one campaign poster in 1,300km up north. As soon as we rode into England, there were tons.
• English cows are as lazy as Scottish sheep.
• Signs outside village pubs in Wales say, "Muddy boots and paws welcome." I guess businesses wouldn't survive in these parts otherwise.
• Don't ask for Guinness in Brains Dark country (Brains is a brewery founded in 1882 in Cardiff, Wales). And definitely don't tell the Welsh it's not as good!
• The owner of Coxley House, the grandest guesthouse in Upper Coxley, may have the dirtiest car in England.
• There is a genuine history of piracy in Penzance. It's not just a Gilbert and Sullivan musical.
• The worst coffee in England is at the Cat & Fiddle Inn in Exeter.
• Pub meals across Scotland, Wales and England are generally top-notch.
• Always check your fuel gauge before your morning departure.
• The British really are excellent drivers, cautious and courteous without fail.

Plan your trip

The bikes

The Triumph Tigers were rented from Spyder Motorcycles, based outside London. They have a wide range of bikes available, including BMW, Ducati and KTM.

Cost

Motorcycle rental starts from £145 (about R2,300) per day or £465 (R7,500) for a week.

The trip described here for two bikes cost £3,295 (about R54,000), which included route planning and hotel bookings (hotel bills settled separately), a route guide and programmed sat-navs. They also provided a bike drop-off service (in Edinburgh) and collected from the writers' accommodation in London when the trip had finished. Each bike had panniers.

Trips can be tailored to the customers' specific requirements and therefore costs will always differ. Different motorcycles also have different hire fees.

Contacts

See spydermotorcycles.co.uk or e-mail info@spyderclub.co.uk.