Day 10 - Sanquhar to Glasgow - projected distance 55 miles.

The day started with some good news. The bike mechanic pixies had apparently visited during the night. When I set off today, my bike seemed to be running smoothly again, with no gear problems. Maybe there was some grit in the mechanism somewhere. That was a relief, although I did spot a small nick in my front tyre which means it will need to be replaced fairly soon. I have a spare in the car, so I might change it tomorrow. Otherwise I'm inviting a puncture. Anyway, there was no need to go hunting for bike shops in Glasgow this afternoon: possibly just as well as the ones I called were unwilling to help.

Setting off from Sanquhar, my GPS directed me in the opposite direction to the way I expected, down a small country lane which turned out to be a splendid scenic route. The lane was dotted with farms, and apart from one jogger, I saw only sheep, cows, and plenty of small calves.

Passing from Dumfries & Galloway into Ayrshire on the A76, one of the first towns I cycled through was New Cumnock, a thoroughly dour place which looked in need of a good lick of paint and some extra wealth. I liked its welcome sign though. On through Cumnock and then Mauchline, there was not too much to see before Kilmarnock, where I picked up the main A77 to Glasgow. It seemed very busy, then I realised that I was on the road just before it turned into the M77. I turned off towards a village called Fenwick and hunted again for the A77. The signs were slightly confusing, and I spent a couple of miles cycling in the opposite direction until I thought better of it.

After a few minutes I found the right road, with a wide cycle path to the side. The path, amazingly, ran nearly all the way into Glasgow, 18 miles away. I was able to put my head down into the wind, ignoring the light rain, and pick up some speed. There were a few sections of the path scattered with glass - Glasgow diamonds - but on the whole it was a good route. It was downhill too.

Through Glasgow city centre I attracted the ire of a cab driver who didn't like me passing him, but the GPS again worked a treat and I was able to zip along, using the bus lanes, and soon found the Thistle hotel, arriving just after 2pm. I collected a postcard from my friend Terry, who keeps a far better diary than me, and then it was out for a bus tour of the city with my family. Glasgow is the last big city of my trip - further north I'll be seeing more mountains and lochs than monuments and docks. Mind you, Glasgow is not quite the great port it once was - there used to be 62 shipbuilding firms along the Clyde. Now there are three.