Cairngorms Mini Tour

[Templogin]

Operation Cairngorms begins!

Preamble - whilst the planning has been military in style, everything else that could go wrong has so far.

I live 17 miles away from my partner who lives in Lerwick, so I decided that I might be better packing the panniers at home and taking them into Lerwick in the back of the car.  I had packed each one then attached it to the bike in my front room in turn to give me a bit more space to work in.  This worked well until I came to take them off again.  Carradice rear panniers need three hands to work them, if you are as cackhanded as me: one to pull up the weight of the bag, one to undo the clip and the third one to hold the bike still.  Failing to need all the back care warnings we get at work I was lifting and twisting at the same time and hurt my back.  Never mind, keep popping the paracetamol and all will be OK.

I dropped the car into town and asked SWMBO to unload them from the car and she managed to hurt her back in the process.  The total weight was only 20 KG, so I didn't think that there would be any problems with the request.  Obviously in a lot of pain she then had to take the ibuprofen and paracetamol cocktail.

I packed the last pannier, strapped on the sleeping bag and collapsing wash bowl and set off for the 17 mile trip into town.  There was a wind, which wasn't far off being directly behind me so it was obviously going to be an enjoyable ride.  What could go wrong?

Ten miles into the trip I started to feel sick so. I stopped for a couple of minutes and drank 300ml of squash.  I got 200 yards and started to feel like the squash was going to come up so stopped for 10 minutes to let my stomach calm down.  I set off again up the hill, then had a nice coast down the other side by the golf course. A hairpin bend at the bottom takes you back up the other side of the hill.  I had barely got 200 yards up the hill when I started to feel dizzy.  I stopped and leant against the crash barrier for a few minutes, before setting off again.  Same problem within a 100 yards so I stopped and leant against the crash barrier.  Eventually the feeling passed and. I managed to complete the journey.  Without wishing to be too indelicate, there was a blockage in my intestines, which once rid of at her place had me feeling much better.

Now all that I had to do was survive the night and the following day until my 7pm ferry to Aberdeen.

I eventually dropped off some time after 1am.  I woke at 5am needing a trip to the bathroom.  Lights off so as not to disturb her I misjudged the doorway width and slammed the toes of my right foot into the architrave.  A stream of silent expletives later I managed not to collapse in a heap on the floor, did the necessary and returned to bed.

Up at 09:30 I could barely walk.  By 11am I decided that physiotherapy was needed and went for a walk down the street at a slow limping gait.

It's now 6pm.  My toes are a lovely shade of black to purple, but at least I am safely ensconced on the ferry in my cabin all alone.  In 14 hours I am hoping to be on the Deeside Way.

Did. I hear someone say drama queen!

[Andre Jute]

Tomorrow will be better. It always is. That's why disasters come in threes, so that your quota is filled quicker.

[Templogin]

Operation Cairngorms - 17/8/2014

I had checked the wind speeds for the ferry trip from Lerwick to Aberdeen and according to my calculations we were going to miss the worst of it.  Firmly ensconced in my cabin the captain's announcement said otherwise.  Storm force gales and a heavy swell will make for an uncomfortable trip.  The cabin was going to be an asset, vomiting could at least be done in private.

The ferry and only just untied in the harbour and things didn't feel quite right, so I pull down the blinds, switched the lights off and took to my bunk.  Once into the Fair Isle gap I started to feel worse, laying on my back, sitting or standing was making me feel sick, only laying on my side seemed to be working.  I managed to get enough sleep on and off, that by the time we sailed into the flat calm Aberdeen harbour I felt fine.

The boat ejaculated it's passengers with well practiced calm and I headed off to Duthie Park to join the Deeside way towards Banchory.  The headwind was 24-32 mph, but relatively sheltered in this tree lined route.  I dodged cyclists and dog walkers, saying good morning to each, wondering if this was the done thing here.  Everyone says hello to everyone in Shetland except when in Lerwick, the big city, population 7,000.

It wasn't long before I was leaving the confines of Aberdeen.  Wide open spaces, no trees nearby and noticeable resistance from the headwind.  The track changed from smooth asphalt to gnarly stuff that a mountain biker would find easy, but The eXp and I were struggling over.  Poor pilot - good bike.  I soon joined the road again and the wind became more noticeable.  I decided nonetheless that I would try to make Ballater, 42 miles from Aberdeen, and if I made it would search out the Habitat hostel. 

Now 42 miles may not be a great deal to most of you, but it' said fair distance for me.  The headwind was to be the killer though as I couldn't seem to get above 8 mph, seemingly spending more time between 5 - 7 mph.  The GPS said that riding mileage had been averaged at 8.6 mph.

I had stopped around the 25 mile mark for lunch in a little cafe and gift shop.  My table overlooked the bike, and I noticed that many people came along and looked at it, pointing at the Rohloff and the carbon fibre mudguards.  Obviously people of taste and discernment live around here.  After lunch I still felt tired so I had a little lay down under a tree for 20 minutes.  It felt very decadent.

The ride towards Ballater got harder as I struggled with tiredness against the headwind.  There seemed to be no let up and at times I was wobbling away.  In the last 10 miles I was stopping for a rest every mile, just a couple of minutes, but time for a drink at least.  In the last five miles the stops were every half mile, but I was determined to make, although checking out potential wild camping sites as I rode along.

Ballater came quicker than I had expected in the end and I found the hostel.  Entry could not be gained for 2 hours so I rode around the town.  It started to rain so I bought a takeaway tea and a cake and sat under a tree with a good canopy on the green.  The rain continued for the full 2 hours, that particularly wet and penetrating type, so I was glad when I was allowed into the hostel.

[Templogin]

Operation Cairngorms 18/8/2014

I packed up and left the lovely Habitat (5 star) hostel and took to the road towards Tomintoul.  Within 2 minutes of setting off the rain started, and within 2 miles it was running off my nose.  I was heading roughly north west into a northwesterly.  Headwinds seem to follow me, but from the front!  My weather app said 12-18 mph winds, but I didn't believe that and found out later that they were 29 miles an hour.

The rain was either peeing it down or torrential, at times sideways.  It gave up occasionally but restarted within a couple of minutes.  The hills were even bigger than I expected and the bike spent much of it's time being pushed.  With no cover it was difficult to get out of the elements. At the top of one hill I tried sheltering behind a couple of wheelie bins, but it wasn't working.  There was some sort of standing stone nearby so I hid behind that.

I stopped at a cafe/gift shop for lunch.  I chose the bacon, pancakes and maple syrup.  It went down so well that I ordered another one, which seemed to cause some confusion, especially when the time came to pay the bill.

Just past a certain castle, after I had been pushing the bike up a hill too steep for far too long, I was passed by three dark Range Rovers travelling close together.  Someone was off to spend their hard earned wages for their waving duties perhaps?

It was a thoroughly miserable day.  At one point it took 2 hours to cover 2 miles.  The hostel at Ballater had been fully booked, but the entire party of a seasoned hill climbing club had gone home due to the hideous weather, leaving the hostel to me alone.  I often wished that I had stayed there for another night.  Most people would have jacked the ride in by now, but a combination of determination, but mostly stupidity kept me going.  Most annoying of all has been the complete lack of photo opportunities, but very shot would have likely had a motorhome in it, with bikes attached.  I saw two cyclists on their bikes all day, a rufty tufty mountain biker and a racing snake out on his Cannondale.  The latter was going up the hills like he was on the flat.  How depressing!  I probably have 30 years on him though, but then again he wasn't even wearing waterproofs.  On the rare occasion that the wind did stop at least my sodden clothing dried out.

Finally the downhills arrived after half an hour in the Lecht ski centre for soup, a roll and a tea.  Going down a 1 in 5 pedalling, I saw the speedo reach 13 mph!  Eventually I picked up speed, but the rain was lashing my eyeballs and the wind was blowing across my ears making a noise like blowing across a milk bottle!

I couldn't have been happier to see Tomintoul, a town with no cash points, and checked into the hostel, which currently has a mix of French, Germans, Portugese and English.  Sharing a room will be a first for me since my days in the green suit some 30 years ago.

Dinner was taken in a restaurant when I realised the shops were closed.  It was an excellent meal at the Clock House, but I was unable to do the main course justice, leaving the plate half full.

Three days more rain to come, but at least the wind will be dropping to 28mph.  Then it's two days of fog.  Oh fog, I yearn for you!

[geocycle]

I stopped at a cafe/gift shop for lunch.  I chose the bacon, pancakes and maple syrup.  It went down so well that I ordered another one, which seemed to cause some confusion, especially when the time came to pay the bill.

Yes, I've been there as well!  Once ordered two lunches in a similar situation, partly to put off returning to the elements outside. 

You've picked a tough week weather wise.  Would have been better in August - oh sorry it is...   I'm enjoying your pen portraits, I can certainly empathise with the shear sense of futility, yet total determination not to let it beat you.

[Slammin Sammy]

Hi Templogin,

I too am enjoying your journal, and I commend you for staying the course with courage and good humor! Too bad about the photos, though... I was looking forward to those.

We're also facing shocking conditions in Godzone at the moment. Wind, rain and temps very similar to what you are seeing, although it is our winter. It is keeping me off the bike and under shelter. But when you're on tour, there's nothing to do but soldier on, and focus on that beer, dinner and warm bed (or cold camp  ) at the end of the day.

Hang in there. Sooner or later, summer will return.

[Matt2matt2002]

Are you coming through Inverurie?
PM me if you need anything.
Matt

[Templogin]

Operation Cairngorms 19/8/2014

After a restless night I was on the road from Tomintoul, sunglasses firmly packed away, waterproof trousers and jacket on ready for the rain.  Within an hour I was hot and decided that the micro-climate in my cycling shorts was probably not that healthy so I got out of the waterproof gear.  There was a headwind, but it was very slight, the sun was trying to shine and the hills, with the exception of one, seemed to be pointing downwards.

I decided to miss out Grantown on Spey following a minor road instead.  With the wind almost behind me it was looking like a much better day.

Sticking to the minor roads I eventually found myself in Aviemore.  After the peace and quite of the highlands, it seemed really strange to be back in an obviously capitalist town.  Signs everywhere, and shops overflowing with stuff that none of us really need!  I decided not to hang around for long so headed of to Kingussie, where I stopped for a lovely strawberry tart and a coffee, something that was really needed.

I soon found out there was no hostel in Kingussie so headed out of town, took a seat on a bench and wondered which way I should head.  A touring cyclist came to a halt and asked me if I needed directions, which struck me as ironic as he was Spanish.  I told him that I was looking for a hostel and he suggested Blair Atholl might have one, about 30 miles away.  If not I should be in luck in Pitlochry, about 35 miles away.  To be honest I wasn't keen on cycling down the A9, but it seemed to have been an easy day so far so I headed off.

The A9 was hellish as I tried to ride to the left of the white line at the edge.  There was all sorts of detritus: cam belts, fan belts, suspenders belts, stones, part of a dashboard, a police accident sign, granite lumps the size of my fist, a water bottle, a water bottle cage, mudguard, a chain, an inner tube.  I was holding out from a frame and a set of Campagnolo gears, but I was to be disappointed.  The drains were often sunken or damaged around them.  In the end I just got into the left lane and bttled out when the artics got to close or there was a nice section of gutter.  One section of dual carriageway had been coned off to one lane so I let them have that and had my own lane.

Blair Atholl turned out to be the sort of place that wouldn't have a hostel, but it did have a fine fish and chip shop, which sorted out the meal that I needed.  The horsey set were in town about to start their horse trials.  The ones that I saw certainly looked guilty!

Pitlochry town centre has plenty of signs, in fact they must have been on special offer, judging by the number of them pointing hither and thither to this place and that.  Complete sensory overload.  I spotted the backpackers hostel on the left in a terrace of shops and decided that I might try a little wild camping.  After a trip to the BP fuel station for Costa coffee, wine gums and chocolate as well as breakfast for tomorrow, two breakfast bars, I set off trying to find somewhere suitable.

Out of the town the houses seemed to go on forever.  Eventually there was a suitable area at the side of the road.  I pushed the bike up a slope, lent it against a couple of trees and set up my bivvy bag and sleeping bag.  Across a field the A9 was about 200 yards away and I realised how noisy it was.  The ground was a lumpy as hell, but I found a half decent position to lay in.  Suddenly the bike started to roll down the slope slightly, fortunately the handlebars spun around and the front wheel crashed into my head.  It could only get better, surely?

Sleep came at about 2:30 when the amount of traffic decreased.

[Templogin]

Operation Cairngorms 20/8/2014

The traffic woke me finally at 06:20 and I decided that there was little point trying to sleep any more.  I ached from head to toe from a tortuous night.  Nonetheless there was riding to be done so I got up, got the Jetboil out and brewed up some coffee and ate one of the breakfast bars and a few wine gums.  Packing up seemed to take forever but I was on the road by 08:00, my left knee and right Achilles' tendon throbbing away like they were trying to make themselves known.

I went back into Pitlochry and headed east towards Kirkmichael, just 12 or so miles away.  The hill out sapped me of any energy and by the time that I got 3/4 of the way up I had to stop and eat the other breakfast bar and a few more wine drops, washed down with Fanta, just to make sure that there was a good sugar overload!

The roads to Kirkmichael were hard on the butt, however I forgave them this when I arrived in the village and there was a general store with attached petrol station and cafe.  Their was fruit cake, but it was fat free.  I ruled it out initially and chose a cheese and pickle sandwich, two pots of tea then caved in and had the fruit cake.  It would have been Ok if it had been spread with butter, which it wasn't, so for the first time in my life I couldn't finish a piece of my favourite cake all for the want of an apperth of butter.

Despite really enjoying the sandwich and tea, it was as though someone had zapped all the energy from my body and a few miles later I decided that Braemar, 30 miles away yet was an unrealistic option for today.  I spotted a campsite and wondered if I could rent one of their caravans, but there was no-one to be seen about.  Then I spotted a sign for some ecopods and turned off to ride the mile to the location.  I was about to give up and what seemed a long mile, probably due to my tiredness.  I had turned around to head back when I noticed one of the pod's tops peaking out over the top of the hill.  I turned about again and rode and pushed up the farm track.  No-one was in, but there was a note on the door to say that pods were available, so I rang the number to leave a message for the owners, who were due back at 4:30.  It was now 12 and I was feeling cold.

Within an hour they were back, unaware of the message that I had left.  The deal was done and a pod was mine for two days.  I needed the rest as yesterday's 75 miles was obviously beyond my capabilities.  The trouble was that my food supplies ran to 3 sachets of Horlics, a Mars bar and half a bag of wine gums.  Fortunately, Simon, one of the owners of the venture was going to Blairgowrie and gave me a lift in.  As I staggered around Tesco, probably a down from the sugar.  I bought a random selection of food, then we did a couple more jobs and ended up at the deli, where dried Morrel mushrooms were £43 per 100 grammes.  I thought about getting a couple of pounds, but then sense prevailed and I bought 4 inches of thick garlic.  At least that was only £9.

[Templogin]

Operation Cairngorms 21/8/2014

A day of lazing around at EcoCamp Glenshee.  The tap, tap, tapping noise in the background is the class of 4 female spoon whittlers taking a block of wood down to something relatively spoon shaped.  I have a quick chat with them.  I can tell they want me, but they are trying hard to not show it!  It must be the rugged outdoorsman, knife and torch on the belt, living in an eco pod, eating Tesco dried mango and salami from the posh deli look - then again, perhaps not.

Meanwhile I plod about eating and drinking, and wondering why the 3 sachets of Horlics I bought from a shop have a best before date of April 14.  To add insult to injury at least one of them has a hole in it.

I have visitors.  The occasional curious chicken comes by when I am rustling one bag or another for food or wine gums.  I can't answer any of their questions.  They are obviously under the impression that they are going to get fed, but I am sure that nothing that I have will interest them in the slightest.  I try one with a piece of Tesco dried mango.  He has a go at it, but soon loses interest.

The class comes in to the bothy for a mini-tour.  One shows me her spoon.  I give it 11 out of 10.  It's good to know that should there be some future cataclysm, these women will be able to hunt and fashion rudimentary spoons whilst I remain in the bothy being the stay at home dad.  They leave to look at the pods.  The weather has taken a turn for the worse; the skies darkening.  I consider putting the light on, but worry how this will effect my green credentials.

I get the maps out and mull over whether I need to man up and go north back into the mountains to Braemar, then across to Ballater and beyond to Aberdeen.  Or do I wimp out and go the cross country route to Kirriemuir, Brechin, Laurencekirk, Stonehaven then Aberdeen.  I have done my usual trick and cracked on.  Instead of doing the 25 mile days I have done: 40, 20, 75, 15 and zero. That's 6 days in 4 days then a rest day.  Other than the scenery I haven't actually done anything.  There has been steam railway opportunities, which I have sailed by, mountain bike adventures and spoon whittling classes, which I have not taken up.  It's now Thursday and the boat sails on Wednesday evening: six whole days.  I need secure parking for the bike so that I can do something other than go somewhere to eat.  Braemar might be the answer.  OK it will be a tourist trap, but so has been much of this area so far.

[Templogin]

Thanks for the feedback guys.  Photos will follow, but there aren't many of them.  Not sure where I am going when as yet Matt.  I will be in touch if I. Need you.

I am in Braemar at the moment at The Bothy coffee shop.  Very busy but really good.

[Templogin]

Operation Cairngorms - 22/8/2014

I awoke in a slightly chilly pod at 08:00, went to the ablutions and then sat down to breakfast in the bothy determined to get plenty of food down my neck.  I munched my way through a pack of cooked ham, 1/3 of a small Brie, some dates and 2 mugs of coffee.  I packed up the bike and set off north into a 15-25 mph headwind.

Within 15 minutes I was so hot that divestment of clothing was the order of the day.  Then 15 minutes after that I was feeling worn out so I stopped at a pottery/cafe for a cup of tea, which turned into a pot of tea, a flapjack, an ice cream and two flapjacks and two cans of Fanta to take away.  They have an interesting shop selling pottery and other quality goods, rather than the standard tourist tat.  Superb home bakes too.

I was soon off again but feeling over full with food now!  Progress up Glenshee was slow due to the winds and the hills.  I really struggled to get over the next hump of what was initially a rollercoaster of a road.  I shouldn't have complained as the rise was soon going up interminably in earnest.  Harley Davidson riders were going past every few minutes, so I assumed that a rally was being held somewhere.  To the left I could hear the shotgun blasts of dumb animal shooting.  I tried to ride a few hundred yards then stop for a rest, but in the end I had to give up and start pushing.  The bike and luggage were feeling really heavy and my calf muscles were complaining bitterly, so I would get on, ride a bit, rest a bit, walk a bit, gradually biting my way up the hill, assuming that anyone else on this hill would just be bowling along.  Then I turned around and spotted a racing snake in the distance pushing his obviously lightweight bike up the hill too.  Annoyingly he seemed to be catching me up.  I wasn't going to make it easy for him so I piled on the pressure to speed up, but reality got the better of me and he drew level, moaned about the headwind, then carried on.  He soon reached the top of the hill and was away.  I put in one last valiant effort to ride to the top, failed miserably, pushed the last 100 yards then looked forward to swooping past the ski resort place.

Fairly obviously the wind was even worse on the other side.  Racing snake had stopped at the resort so I waved as I went past.  If I pedalled downhill I could just about manage 11 mph on what must have been a 1 in 10 hill.  How depressing.  I continued on nonetheless, deciding that once the bike computer went past 20 miles, I would stop for a break.  A lovely bridge came up on my left, someone pulled in, then someone was in the next roadside verge thing.  Eventually I decided that solace was best had somewhere un-notable, so just pulled into the side of the road and swigged away at the water bottles.

It wasn't long before signs for Braemar appeared and I pooled into town wondering about where to find accommodation.  The call to the hostel in the morning had already advised me that there was no room there for 6 weeks.  Priority was to keep the calories up so after a potter around town I decided on The Bothy.  The coronation chicken jacket spud went down so well that on the basis of it I proposed to the chef.  I have yet to have her answer, but much mirth was caused by my proposal.  It got hot inside so I took the iPad outside, where there was still a wifi signal, to carry on the electronic admin.  It started raining, for only the third time today, so I went back indoors, ordered more tea and a slice of the cake - just superb and. I can see why the place is so popular.  Back outside. I had questions about the bike and the length of time my journey had taken.  I must look fitter thanI think because one person imagined that I had only taken one day to manage my route so far.  This was at about 2pm!  I told them that I was fat and old, much plagued by illness and I was just taking it easy.

A trip to the tourist info office had me pointed off in the direction of a backpackers hostel called backpackers.  After the first couple of turn left, turn right instructions I had not bothered to listen, so needless to say I didn't find the place.  To be fair though, the local walking his dog that I accosted had no idea where the place was either, and he suggested the place on the edge of town that I already knew was full.  So it was a trip back to the TIC and a request that they look for something else for me and only give instructions that an infant could follow.  Everything was fully booked on their system so they started ringing around the others.  A room was found in the Invercauld Arms, and I was glad of its lovely staff and slightly faded glory.  Bingo at 8:30 is on offer and I wondered if their was a chance of pulling a couple of grannies for some group action in my room.  I had a cider to cool my desires, wandered into town, nearly bought another Tilley hat, but bought super lightweight trousers instead so that I can throw away the communist blue Craghoppers that I have had for over a decade and seemed to have picked up a few smears of peafowl poo from the EcoCamp.

Weather-wise it has been a mixed bag, a heavy shower, light short showers, low temperatures that cold that a jacket was necessary, and glorious dome-burning sunshine.  My face looks decidedly reddened.  A few days ago I expected to be going down with exposure.  Such is the weather in Scotland.

I tried to extend my stay in the hotel, but there is not a single space available tomorrow.  I have been advised to ask at reception again tomorrow in case there have been any cancellations.  Never mind if there hasn't, I shall head off past Ballater and find the next available place.  I have changed my ferry booking from Wednesday back to Monday as I have no wish to be hanging around in Aberdeen for a couple of days.  It's a shame that I haven't made more use of what was on offer here, but that's down to the over-developed cracking on gene as well as corrugated road sections that have given my gonads a good hammering, just when you were least expecting it.

[Templogin]

Operation Cairngorms - 23/8/2014

I had a wonderful night's sleep at the hotel and a good fry- up to start the day, followed by tea and toast.  Reception couldn't find me space for another night so I packed up and headed off.

The 16 miles to Ballater was easy going and I stopped to use the loos then dropped into a cafe for more coronation chicken jacket spud and a coffee.  Fired up with fuel I was off again and soon in Aboyne.  Passing a bus stop on the way got me wondering, and a mile later I turned around back into the wind to solve the thought going around in my mind - would the bike take my bus further along the route to give me a chance to get to Aberdeen and see if I could change my ticket yet again.  The timetable suggested that I could take my bike, but would have to load it myself.  The destination was advised as Mount Street, Banchory and I had just missed the bus, but they ran hourly.  I sat there munching away on a flapjack contemplating.  It wasn't that I couldn't do the ride.  The knee and Achille's tendon were throbbing, but had been worse.  With 15 minutes left for the bus I caved and decided to ride on.

I pulled into the bus stop at Kincardine O'Neil 3 miles down the road.  The bus was due in 5 minutes so I waited by the stop, the bus arrived, I loaded the bike and paid for a ticket to Banchory, and off down the road we went, the miles passing with a lot less effort.  I suddenly realised that I had forgotten to turn off the Garmin Edge.  The ride times are going to look impressive!

We were soon into Banchory and I noticed that the bus stop said Mount Street so asked the driver where to get the Aberdeen bus from.  He asked why I would want to get off the bus and I pointed out that it said Banchory for Aberdeen on the front of the bus and the display had said Mount Street, Banchory.  Apparently on the side of the Bus it said Aberdeen.  No problem for me I just stayed on.  At least I would be in Aberdeen for 4pm, the latest checking in time for the boat to Shetland via the land of the Orkanoids.  If I couldn't get accommodation on the barge I would turn around and head out of town for some.  As luck would have it there was an executive bunk available for an upgrade fee of £27.  A no brainer as accommodation elsewhere would have been more than that.

Originally I was supposed to be in the Wednesday boat, then cracked on faster than I expected and changed the ticket to Monday, now a I will sail into Lerwick on Sunday morning at sparrow's chuff.

[Templogin]

Back in Lerwick now after a lumpy trip on the boat.  Just had a shower and a cup of tea.  It was great getting out of the cycle shorts.  I can get a clean pair on for the trip back to Voe.

[Templogin]

Operations Cairngorms - The Good, The Bad and the Ugly

The Good

Jetboil stove - you want a brew and need it quickly?  This is the tool to have.  Even in the wind, I really should bring a screen, this gadget boiled the water for a brew in less that two minutes.  Decent gas and a piezo electric ignition system, with a backup lighter this is well worth having.  I should have got one years ago, but I foolishly persisted with meths.  Meths may work in less windy climates than Shetland, I know that it fired my Trangia in Sussex.  If you want something that will work in all weathers and is relatively safe then it has to be gas as far as I am concerned.  Cookers, I must have tried them all.  Everything from hexamine blocks to flame throwing number one burners in the Army.  The former are ideal for heating a cup of tea until it is tepid and tastes of old coins.  The latter ideal for cooking meals for a squadron of hungry men in dressed in green clothing.

Jack Pyke stainless steel insulated mug - cost me about a tenner, which I quibbled about at the time, but has turned out to be a really good purchase.  Mugs, I must have tried them all.  Sorry, it's the meds that make me say these things.  I have though.  From the white enamelled mug with the thin blue stripe around it, which your skin stuck to when the liquid inside was too hot, to the plastic thermal mugs, which keep the drink too hot to drink for a while, but then the temperature seems to drop like a stone.  I have brought ceramic mugs which got broken on day 2, which left you drinking out of a baked beans tin for a couple of days with the resulting scars from picking it up when it is too hot, to savaging your lip on the jagged edge when tin openers were less tech than they are now.

Rab eVent jacket - it cost a fortune, £180 seemed a lot at the time, but the fact that it had kept out torrential rain, on days when a lesser jacket would have long since failed, has made it more than worth the money.  At a little over 3 years old parts of the jacket around the coat hook part are starting to come apart, but it really has been worn to death.

The Bad

Horlics Light individual sachet - firstly what is this fetish for everything being light these days, and why isn't there a heavy alternative for those of us that want the extra calories and the taste? I could handle the 45p each if one of them didn't have a hole in it and all three weren't 4 months beyond their best before date.  I am not sure if it is supposed to be this tasteless.

The Ugly

The inside of a pair of cycle shorts after a week!