Mull of Kintyre visit

The actual Mull of Kintyre half marathon run itself is detailed on the running blog here. However as far as the trip to Campbeltown is concerned, we can thoroughly recommend it as long as you’re not in a rush. The round trip from Stranraer was just over 500 miles and the journey time there is around 5 hours. Of course you can shorten this by clever use of ferries, but a) they’re not cheap and b) you need to time everything properly to take fullest advantage.

The roads are pleasant enough and there are dual carriageways up to the other side of the Clyde, using the Erskine Bridge. Then you’re down to the slow tourist plod past Loch Lomond before the bulk of the traffic turns off on its way to the Highlands. The rest of the way is all single carriageway but through some lovely countryside which you shouldn’t really want to race through anyway. We sopped at Inverary on the outward journey, which was OK, although I recommend staying away from the chip shop on Main Street, which is crap.

The rest of the journey is pleasant but largely unexceptional, following the main A83 route through Tarbert and down the west coast of Kintyre. When you hit Campbeltown your first impressions are likely to be that it’s closed. Abandoned, in fact. There are a couple of interesting buildings, perhaps, but pretty it is not. Never mind – we drove through the town and on to Machrihanish to the west. We stayed at the Machrihanish caravan and camping park run by Dave and Chris, and rented a Wigwam for the duration, which we can recommend. Dave and Chris(tine) are refugees from dan saff, escaping the shitty side of UK society and enjoying their first season in Machrihanish. Good for them.

The only excursion we had time for was towards the Mull of Kintyre (Mull means point, apparently). We didn’t get as far as the Mull of Kintyre lighthouse, but we did stop at Keil Caves and had a fine view of the Mull and saw a seal sunning itself on the rocks and lots of otters playing around it, which we feel was much better than a crummy lighthouse.

Following the race we decided to take the scenic route back to Tarbert, and this really is one of those ‘musts’ people talk about. The road is narrow (single track) and hilly, but is a spectacular route. It’s on the national cycle path map (was it route 93? – I can’t remember) and I would think it would be a stunning cycle ride, with lots of things to see and places to stay.

We tried to stop at the Loch Fyne Oyster bar and restaurant on the way back, but apparently you have to book. How really tiresome. We ended up instead opting for the “Diner” you’ll see sign-posted at various intervals along the way. I won’t say too much about this experience, save to say that I hated my food and Naice loved hers. We were agreed that the service didn’t quite reach the dizzy heights of ‘pathetic’.

The remainder of the trip was uneventful and we deposited our Diesel Focus 1.6 back with Hertz in Stranraer before getting the Stena HSS ferry back to dear old Belfast.

209623 - licensed to pleasure

The RYA navigation exam was passed with only one wrong answer given. I can hardly say this was the most taxing exam I’ve ever done, but I’m still pleased it’s in the bag and I am now the proud bearer of one International Certificate for Operator of Pleasure Craft. Happy days.

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The CEVNI inland waterways navigation test scheduled for today at 12:00 has had to be re-scheduled for tomorrow afternoon...because I couldn't find the test centre.

Timing...

I am so glad the weather has turned miserable again, as it clearly vindicates our decision to resign from our jobs, sell our house, and throw all our furniture on the tip. Moving to the rainforest, in this context, must be viewed as the icing on the cake.

I also find myself freed from the tyranny of the tie, with promises of salvation by the shorts. This is undoubtedly a good thing, and I am already eagerly listing all the things I will be able to do as a result. I’m up to item number two so far, so it’s going well I think.

Meanwhile Ozzie steadfastly continues to behave as if everything is normal, although this may change next Tuesday when we accompany him to the grooming parlour to learn how he likes to be clipped. Even with our earnest good intentions, I fancy he will find out what it feels like to walk around looking like a disappointed pig.

Our decimated agglomeration of personal effects begins its journey tomorrow, 18th May, when the container ship departs Belfast on its way to Le Havre. We will be closely following its progress on the internet.

Finally, our money is languishing in an HSBC current account while we try to organise getting it to Brazil. Meanwhile the Brazilian Real continues to strengthen, while the pound suffers gentle subsidence. The longer term prognosis for the Real is pretty good; that for the pound, less so. While we’re hoping for some unexpectedly good news on the British economy, the chances are small, so I think we just need to get the transfer done as quickly as possible. Timing - the essence of all good exchange deals. Arf.

25 days to go.

Now we are transportless too.

Well, the BMW was finally sold last night, to a Mr David Doherty from Glengormley, bless him. The car was delivered to him last night and he gave me nearly £8000 in cash. He wanted to give me this on Saturday afternoon, but I didn’t fancy the idea of not getting it to the bank for two days, hence a small deposit had already been received. All the dosh is now sitting next to me in this café in a small rucksack, but if you have any ideas about this, you only have 25 minutes before it’s deposited in the building society across the road.

We’ve also managed to cancel a few DDs and SOs and some insurance policies and so forth, so the admin’s getting a bit more organised. Now we’re researching the best way to transfer our dosh to Brazil. I’m sure there’s an obvious solution to this, but am finding it hopelessly complicated. The various options appear to include:

1) use the bank, transfer pounds, leave it to be exchanged in Brazil
2) use the bank, let the bank do the exchange, then transfer to Brazil
3) use a specialist agency in the same manner as for 1
4) use a specialist agency in the same manner as for 2
5) open a sterling account in Brazil and transfer pounds, exchanging in Brazil as required
6) exchange pounds for dollars here, open a dollar account in Brazil & transfer dollars, exchanging in Brazil as required

And of course what complicates it further is how, when and with whom do you negotiate the relevant exchange rates and charges/fees etc?
If anyone knows anyone who’s familiar with all this guff, please let me know!!!

The CEVNI test

That's the written test on the Code européen des voies de navigation intérieure, to you pal. And I have to take it so that I can apply for an International Certificate of Competence to operate a motorboat on the Amazon. Not that the Brazilians give a stuff about whether I know the European waterways regulations or not, as they don't actually apply in Brazil. So, for example, the direction to the effect that

un feu ordinaire rouge et un feu ordinaire blanc ou un feu clair rouge et un feu clair blanc,placés à 1 m environ l'un au-dessus de l'autre, le feu rouge étant le plus haut,

may be required from time to time, is likely to be as unintelligible and irrelevant in Brazil as it is in the UK.

Never mind - don't you just love senseless bureaucracy? Especially European - especially French - bureaucracy. Jeux sans frontiers, indeed.

One car down, one to go....

We have sold the Yaris. Even this was difficult, and took over a week’s worth of advertising and a price £500 below guide. As yet we have only one person interested in the BMW, even after 3 weeks of advertising and at about £1000 below guide. We have another 3 weeks to get it shifted, otherwise it’ll be down to the local dealer to get a fiver for it. Ah well.

We also have two remote controlled yachts left which we’re giving some thought to now (at 5ft high and 4ft long, these are not items you just put in your luggage, and anyway since there’s no wind in the Amazon, remote controlled yachts are not a particularly interesting proposition).

What else do we have…oh yes - one small watercolour purporting to be by Hugh Thomson, the Irish illustrator for Jane Austen and the like. I’m tyring to get the Ulster Museum to take a look at it, although if I do, no doubt it will turn out to be a £1.50 fake.

Other than that, I think we’re fairly organised now. Just some clothes, a dog called Oz, a laptop and papers, and 4 very large (and relatively empty) suitcases. All this stripped-down, baggage-free living is all very well, but it does make me wonder what we do if the container doesn’t turn up. Speaking of which, we have a reference number for the container so that we can track it online. Although I had hoped this would something like the little blip on the map you get on flights, apparently it’s just a text update. Pity – I rather liked the idea of watching the container chug slowly to France and then to Port of Spain and finally up the Amazon to Manaus.

We're out.

We have now moved out of our house and are in rented accommodation for a month (less than that now, as I write). The move went reasonably smoothly, once we had completed boxing up or wrapping the various bits and pieces we couldn’t get rid of before the appointed day (30th April). In the process of disposing of stuff, we were impressed to discover to what extent we have become a disposal society: essentially, if something’s not new, people don’t want it. The items that went to the local tip were amazing (a 3 year old suite, for example?), when neither the auction nor the charity shops were prepared to take them. One piece we just couldn’t bring ourselves to dump, and decided to take with us (although what we’re going to do with sunbed, I don’t know - ha ha).


We finally ended up with 141 boxes and other items, which we duly had to load into our 12 foot container (after storing them in the garage a week, courtesy of our very understanding purchasers). This significant task was completed with the help of good friend Rabea, and able assistance from some of the purchasers’ family members, dear help them. Ozzie took it all in his stride of course, as usual. The whole lot was tied down with some newly-learnt knots (see earlier piece), and I have no doubt it will be secure for the 6 week voyage...

We are now relaxing in our temporary home, and concentrating on getting rid of the two cars, as well as sorting out our paperwork and preparing for the Mull of Kintyre half marathon.
Only 5 weeks to the day now. In fact I think I’ll start counting down from here. So this is B-day minus 35. Anyone want to buy a BMW….?

Ahoy there Seaman Staines...

As part of our preparations for Brazil, I signed up for a 2-day powerboating course on Lough Erne. Unfortunately the only available course was over our last weekend in the house – 28th/29th – but it had to be done, and anyway we were pretty much on top of things. So off I went…

It turned out to be a fantastic experience. The course content itself was interesting enough to keep us all (6 students) occupied, particularly as most of it was practically orientated and involved us mucking about on RIBs (Rigid Inflatable Boats) all day. The weather decided to honour us by giving us wall to wall sunshine, and although the winds were fresh, this just stopped us overheating in our lifejackets and wellies.

Being completely inexperienced around RIBs, the tasks were challenging enough, although by assessment time on day 2 we were all doing our high-speed maneouvres with relative ease, and were finally able to do our Man Overboard routines without chopping the buoys up with our propellors or knocking them senseless with our bows, which no doubt was reassuring to the assessors.

The whole thing was quite inspiring, and has reassured me that I will be able to look after my passengers (mostly Naice and Ozzie, initially anyway) and my boat once we get to the Amazon. I also managed to learn my bowline, round turn & two half hitches, clove hitch and sheet bends for real, and have now even put them to good use (albeit in quite un-nautical circumstances, but that’s the way it goes).