This week we took a post-work Friday evening pedal of a short stretch of the EuroVelo Atlantic Coast Cycle Route between Newton Stewart and Wigtown in Galloway. The full route starts at the northernmost knuckle of Norway and travels its’ seaward length, connecting with Scotland in Aberdeen, passing through our little corner of paradise before descending down the Atlantic coast of Ireland, Wales, England, France and Spain and rounding off in Portugal. Ironic that it was the EuroVelo route we took, given that from mile one we were transported to a flatland sanctuary of bramble-lined lanes and serene marshlands reminiscent of time spent on a tandem in the Narbonne region of the south of France. If I’d have seen a flock of wild flamingo knees-deep in the firth beyond I’d hardly have been surprised.
The barmy evening light picked out the flecks of auburn and gold in the fields, set the distant hills of Merrick and Cairnsmore of Fleet ablaze with embers of brazen colour. Gave shade to an assembly of plucky white-bottomed rabbits playing by the path.
The route was almost entirely car-free and utterly carefree. It was warm until late and the sunset felt like it would last forever.
Our journey’s destination was the Wigtown harbour, where we stayed awhile watching swallows duck and weave catching flies, their irridescent feathers catching the pink-orange fading sunlight and their reflections dancing in the placid water.
By our return leg those same faraway hills became mauve-blue silhouettes against the sinking sun. We pedalled idly, not troubled by a single hill nor a breath of wind.
14 August, 2020