We have a family ambition to go for a cycling holiday on the continent one summer, imagining a bucolic landscape where hills are few and cycle paths numerous. After all, it's not the sort of thing you could easily do in Scotland with two young children in tow, with busy roads, unpredictable weather and the inevitable drudge of climbing hills.
Or so we thought, until on a whim we invited ourselves to stay with old friends in Penicuik and bragged that we would get there from Haddington on our bicycles. The boys are used to cycling to school and back, a round trip of about three miles, and s
o we hoped that covering 20 miles or so in a day shouldn't be too taxing despite their youth (ages six and eight) and their general aversion to activities not involving a computer screen.
A quick glance at the excellent Spokes Cycle maps of East Lothian (new edition published in April this year) and Midlothian revealed that we could go almost the entire way on dedicated cycle paths. After five miles on minor country roads we could take the 6.6-mile Pencaitland Railway path almost to the edge of Dalkeith and then join National Cycle Route 1 at Eskbank for a final five-mile stretch to Penicuik. Both cycle paths are the routes of old railways and so have nice gentle gradients. But how far would we get before the whining started or the bikes broke down?
Off we set one morning cycling two abreast, boys on the inside with a parent at their shoulder, zipping along quiet country roads and meeting more bikes than cars. And the cars we met were courteous, slowing as they passed, hardly interrupting the flow of boy chatter that accompanied the hum of our tyres and ambient skylark song. We startled deer, disturbed indignant hares and followed goldfinches as they fluttered ahead of us along the hedgerows. Progress was satisfyingly steady, although punctuated every few miles by impromptu roadside picnics of juice and biscuits.
When we joined the Pencaitland Railway path progress slowed, but for a good reason. Every half mile or so was a "memory-board" with stories of when the railway had run all the way to Gifford – snowdrifts, romantic trysts and childish capers. The boys read every word and then raced off to find the next board. Apart from one road crossing, it was plain sailing all the way until Crossgatehall on the outskirts of Dalkeith. No sooner had we joined the road than a driver felt the need to shout at us because our cycling two abreast in child-protective mode was "causing a hazard to the traffic" (the driver who had chosen to overtake us on a blind bend somehow escaped his wrath!).
But we were soon away from this awkward, busy stretch and able to take a quieter back road down a steep hill, through the aristocratic splendours of Dalkeith country park, and emerge right on the edge of town.
By now it was time for lunch, and we replenished our reserves with a leisurely meal of pasta, pizza and ice-cream in the friendly Cavaliere Restaurant. Then, not wanting to brave the town-centre traffic, we wheeled our bikes along the pavements for a few minutes to Eskbank. There, the cycle-path was deluxe, with smooth tarmac and road-style signposts. Our challenges now were to ignore the post-lunch heaviness in our legs and to find the least dangerous way through the scatterings of broken glass on the stretch of path skirting Bonnyrigg. Luckily, we escaped without a puncture although we did stop and rescue a family with a flat tyre (and no repair kit). And, oddly, as we got closer to our destination, the boys pedalled faster and faster. As soon as we arrived they jumped off their bikes and raced around the garden as if they had been cooped up in the back of the car all day. Two days later we took the same route in reverse, the only problem being that the weather was so good we had to buy suncream in Dalkeith.
All told, we covered almost 50 miles on our very ordinary, badly maintained and clapped-out old bicycles without (much) complaint, starting and finishing the adventure at our front door. It wasn't the continent, but we were, all the same, content.
The full article contains 747 words and appears in The Scotsman newspaper.
