The adventure begins . . .

Almost one year on from getting my bike, I felt the need to take it on holiday. And with no family or friends willing to take to two wheels for a short break, I was delighted to head off on my own, to my favourite island in Scotland:

the Isle of Bute.

And after a week spent watching the BBC weather website like a hawk, I settled on a three day spell in late July. Boy, did I pick a lucky few days! Known as the Madeira of the Clyde, the island was bathed in sunshine from the second I got there.

But first things first. I set off from Linlithgow train station with a ticket to Wemyss Bay for my first journey on the train with a bike. It couldn't have been easier, I simply hopped aboard a carriage marked with a wee bike logo, and attached the bike to the cycle rack with the supplied straps.

Then I discovered a bike is a bit like a dog - travel with one and total strangers will chat like long-term friends. My first blether was with a middle aged man with a white stick. His cycling with a tandem companion (he's not got enough sight to go solo) puts mine to shame, with a wee 75 miler under his belt last week. He was putting in training for a trip to Everest base camp, so his entire sporting attitude really was light years ahead of mine!

In Glasgow I had to cycle from Queen Street to Central Station (about a five minute journey) then I continued just as easily down the Clyde coast to Wemyss Bay.

I popped down to buy my ticket to Rothesay (£7.50 return) then joined the vehicle queue for the ferry. Just a point of interest to Calmac - why put the ticket booth at the bottom of the slope, so us cyclists have to come all the way back up again?

I was allowed to board first (and cycle onto the ferry) and the really exciting bit of the journey began, as I enjoyed the stunning views during the 30 minute journey.

Sitting on deck, I chatted to another cycle fan, who this time had left his bike behind on land and was heading for his boat out of Port Bannatyne ready to sail up the Kyles of Bute. He was happy to pass on his tips for the best routes around the island under pedal, not wind, power.

Somehow my bike computer clocked up an extra seven miles while chained to the rack on the ferry, but I zeroed it again just before I headed round to my B and B, the very nice Moorings on Mount Stuart Road, with a view to die for.

This is the front patio, in a little suntrap just one hour out of Glasgow. It apparently exists in its own micro climate, protected by the mainland and Arran from some of the worst of Scottish weather, and lets residents grow palm trees to rival Florida.

My first afternoon took me down to Craigmore for a lovely wee sandwich in the open air, and my next chat with another bike-magnet mate. This one I exchanged email addresses with - one day she may illustrate the children's books I have written but never done anything with.

Then I headed out to Ascog and Kerrycroy, and spent a few hours sitting on the beach reading my mum's Kindle. What a great wee toy it is, perfect for packing in my panniers and a very relaxing way to indulge yourself for an hour or two when not in the saddle. Three days, three novels, a very enjoyable way to laze away a few days.

I also got to seal spot within an hour of landing on the island. Amazing! This one was only 100 metres or so from me.

The water all round the island is so clear, I don't think these pictures do it justice.

Dinner that night was in the Waterfront restaurant - main course and a glass of wine for £12 - and I was in bed by about 8pm!

Tuesday morning had me fortified with a hearty breakfast and heading north to Port Bannatyne and Kames Beach. I found the enigmatically named Russian Tavern, complete with Cryllic writing notice boards which said goodness knows what, though I am not convinced that Bute has a large USSR population.

On the front at Port Bannatyne was a wee plant - now is it just me, or is this potted bush the double of Scrappy Doo, Scooby's nephew?

In the port the water was so clear you could see mackerel swimming around and leaping from the water - a fisherman's paradise. I'm told that in this bay the water is clear, but not clean, and Scottish Water are currently spending a fortune fixing that.


Onwards and upwards, literally, as I turned west to Ettrick Bay, up a hill that was steeper than it looks.

Maybe it was the heat - topping out at 86 degrees - or maybe it was the hills, but I found my day's cycling exhausting. A distance I would normally do in just a couple of hours spread out to about 8 hours. Now, admittedly I was taking time to smell the roses, read my Kindle and visit places along the route, but this was the longest 25 miles I have ever ridden. But fun!

This is Kames Castle, on the road towards Ettrick Bay.

And then I was over the hill and heading down to the seaside - Ettrick Bay is so pretty (and the cafe does a lovely milk shake and meringue).

And from there began the hottest and hilliest part of my day - my remedy was to stop every couple of miles and read for a while, but I was very glad to reach Kingarth in the south and enjoy a refreshing drink. There a random Irishman decided to debate nationalism v patriotism with me. Again, I blame the bike for attracting the chat; either that, or I have one of those faces people just open up to.

Along the way I spotted this donkey, a horse, and an enormous pottery dog. Can you tell I was using photography as a way of stopping and catching my breath?

I stopped again in a little forest heading north up the island, just to enjoy sitting in the shade for a change - who can believe it of Scotland in July? This also gave me the chance to recover from my eyeball to eyeball stand off with a muckle big coo. I won, I think, in that I am here to tell the tale, but she was an intimidating beastie to meet on the road.

After another hour in the late afternoon sun back at Ascog, I cycled into Rothesay itself for a fish supper. There were dire warnings from the chippie - apparently the seagulls have been known to whip an entire newspaper-wrapped haggis from your hands round here while you eat. None of them dared with me.

After finding myself dozing off on the couch by 9pm - sunshine and the sea air - I snapped the sunset then slept straight through till 6.20am, and woke up to stunning sunshine over the bay yet again.

In the morning I packed up my panniers, bade farewell to the Moorings, and headed out to Ascog Bay again, then pootled on to another more secluded patch just around the coast and was sunbathing at 10am.

I took myself into the Ascog Fernery, which is well worth a visit. A very peaceful and tranquil setting.

My other tourist destination of the day was Rothesay Castle, and again I was warned about the seagulls - one was territorial with young chicks, and had blocked off an entire tower. The noise she and her pals created was enough to ensure I didn't hang around for long.

One thing I never tire of watching is the Calmac ferry at Rothesay - just a shame I never managed to snap the Waverley, too, but I was on the wrong side of the island when it came by.

Wanting to avoid the Glasgow rush hour, I took the 2pm ferry home.

I knew I was back in Glasgow when the station guard yelled at me in Queen Street ''aff yer bike hen!''.

All in all I would recommend Bute to anyone - if you can live with the potholes on the far side of the island the roads are a dream, with very little traffic, and hills that most cyclists, especially on a cooler day, would take in their stride. If not, do what I did, and get off and push.

The weather was simply stunning, maybe too hot for cycling, but the perfect showcase for a spectacular wee island, which should be a must for every cyclist with a Kindle and a few hours to spare.