Keswick and the North (again)

Being up at the incredibly early time of a bit gone 9am I made us a big lot of porridge for the day ahead and, shock, horror, only one cup of tea each…! – but that was because we used all the milk.  Tidying up the cottage and packing took ages, despite carefully organising my clothes into different coloured bags and even using reference photos of which bag went where in which pannier.  One day my system will prove its efficiency.

The day had dawned bright and chilly, so it was on with the extra layers, and off we set for the short ride back into Keswick to rendezvous with our (adopted) parking spaces in the car park.  It was already lunchtime, so after a discussion lasting about 0.3 seconds we decided to return to the cafe on the high street for pasties and some more of their amazing coffee.  I had real this time, to give me some beans for the ride home.

After an hour of excellent food it was time to make a move.  We had time of course for one last selfie and until-next-time huuuugs.  It's always a bit sad when we have to depart, but it's better to think of the fond memories.  BikerBabe led us to the flowing and glass smooth A66, and barely 25 minutes later we reached the M6 at Penrith.  As with last time, BB turned right and I turned left, homeward bound with a farewell over our Cardo intercoms.

I pressed on north, using the great power of caffeine to concentrate amongst the loud, constant roaring rustle of wind and tyre noise.  Annandale Water came up sooner than I expected and I nearly carried on for Abington, then decided a short break would be better had now than later.  I was actually glad for a bit of a stand and to jump up and down, then had a quick snack inside to recharge before hitting the road again for the last stretch.

The sun had come out and although the temperature was just into double figures it was a gorgeous afternoon, so I decided to take the A701 through Moffat and up over the Beef Tub.  Dad always said it was better than the A702 and part of me agrees: it's narrower and twistier but somehow seems to flow better too, and anyway the HGVs are busy playing on the A702 instead.  I was also pleased to spot the old bridge of Romanno Bridge as I flew past.

The Borders became Midlothian and then I was back on home turf, and sailed into the driveway in time for tea and a huge cup of tea.

Thank you BikerBabe, for another lovely week of amazing scenery and trains and canals and walks and museums and friendship!