Cycling Britain: Day 13

Perth → Dunkeld → Ballinluig → Pitlochry

Every town and village in Britain seems to have its own war memorial. What became apparent today was that in Scotland these memorials have a disproportionate number of names. A small community may only have a dozen houses, yet there might be several dozen names on their memorial -- mostly from the First World War. Explanations could include: Scots were drafted in massive numbers, the rural Scottish population has declined since WWI, Scottish soldiers ended up in more hazardous areas.

[Update: Looking at this photograph in hindsight, it occurs to me that there is something else shown here. Or rather not shown. The ornamental gates are utterly pointless, standing alone. That's because there was likely a fence around the perimeter which was (like so many others) chopped up and melted down during WWII.]

Mmm, lunch.

The village of Dunkeld as seen from the bridge over the Tay.

The bridge over the Tay as seen from the village of Dunkeld.

Cycling along, alone in the Scottish hills. Then someone says "Hello". I look around, nobody there. I look up, and there's a chap hanging onto a cliff (he's circled on the photograph). I return the greeting and continue cycling.

Some people climb up rocks, other people cycle from coast to coast. Either way it is better than watching TV.

Point a camera in any direction, click, instant picture postcard. This area is simply stunning.

Yesterday's ankle pain hasn't improved at all. Today I only reached Pitlochry before I had to call a halt. I bought a return ticket to Inverness, and will be back as soon as I'm fit. A bit disappointing, but this isn't a race, so I don't mind.

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