The return journey. I got up early, had a quick breakfast, checked out and got to the ferry terminal at 8.15. The sadistic bastards left me and the other two cyclists taking the ferry (the elderly couple I had met at the Churchill Barriers a couple of days earlier) standing out in the cold for ages while they loaded on all the cars first. This was not the first time I'd had that happen to me, as the previous February I had popped over to Calais to do some shopping and was left to stand in the loading area for over an hour while I could easily have made the ferry preparing to leave when I got there. I sought out a nice spot on deck (but sheltered from the cold wind) to watch Stromness disappear behind us, and then got some good views of Hoy as we passed by. Unfortunately my batteries gave up the ghost as I passed the Old man of Hoy, and my spare batteries were in my luggage which I'd left on the bike. As we exited Scapa Flow I tried to imagine Uncle Gordon passing the same way when sailing with one of the Russian convoys in the war. Getting cold, I went inside to write some postcards.

Not content with letting us freeze before boarding, the imbeciles crewing the car deck would not let us disembark until we had choked on the fumes of every vehicle leaving the ship. Such consideration! I went back to the tourist information in Thurso looking for some suggestions how I should while away the hours till my train left at about 4. The woman gave me some suggestions, but most of them were too far away, so I decided to stay in Thurso. I did try to visit the local glass factory, but it was shut on Mondays. So I explored the town and quayside for a while, then went to a pub for lunch, where the food was actually quite nice, if not sufficient in quantity. I spent quite some time in there, writing postcards, then went and did more exploring. Thurso is by far the most vibrant place in that part of Scotland. But that really isn't saying much, and there is really not that much to do there. I got bored quite quickly. I met one chap who was considering going 'bent, and asked me if it's worth it. I had to tell him that round those parts, with flat terrain and lots of wind, they're perfect. Then I ran into an elderly roady who told me of someone down in Halkirk, not far from Thurso, who had a 'bent which sounded by the description he gave me to be a Kingcycle. Damned 'bents, they get everywhere. There had even been a guy in Stromness who told me he was considering getting a Trice!

I picked up some dinner in the Co-op, and then went back towards the station. I had seen a pleasant shelter in a little park next to the river, and made myself comfortable in there, as it looked like rain. As the rain duly arrived, so did several people seeking shelter, who moved off again when the rain stopped. I could see why, for as the rain stopped, my old friends the midges came out, so I had to leave. It was nearing the time to catch the train, so I went for one final climb up out of town, scooted back in, and then went to stand on the station platform for the next half hour.

Getting Mercury onto the train was a bit of a struggle, but the guard was very helpful, having checked if any other bikes were booked on the train. As there were none, I was able to lean Mercury against the newly-installed bike racks. Technically, they were designed for 6 bikes standing on end, three on each side. Practically, there was space for one recumbent leaning horizontally against three rack. The train journey down to Inverness was quite slow, but pleasant. The views coming through Caithness and Sutherland were wonderful.

The Caledonian Sleeper was late arriving, and then they took ages preparing the berths, leaving us standing on the platform for what felt like an eternity. Mercury appeared to have an entire wagon to himself - a nice change to have a decent guard's van for once! Eventually were could board, and I made myself comfortable in my cabin. After a wee while I went to the restaurant car, but could only get a chair by a table a fair while later on, by which time the only food they had left was tuna sandwiches. Still, food is food, and I stayed there quite a while reading in a very pleasant, relaxed atmosphere. Then it was time to try to get some sleep.

The Caledonian Sleeper really is a most civilised affair. Comfortable, efficient, it picked me up in Inverness at 8.30 at night and deposited me, well rested, in rush hour London the next morning. And I guess that's where the civilisation ended. Everyone in Euston was miserable, glum. Well, nearly everybody. I was still chirpy and happy. I wheeled Mercury out across the road, and then joined the merry rat race that is Marylebone road. If I thought the pedestrians were miserable, I'd forgotten about the drivers. It was really horrible to be back in town. And the rain was back, making everyone even fuller of the milk of human kindness. Still, I survived the journey back home, all 2 miles or so of it, and set about the task of unrigging Mercury one last time.

Home again. Thanks, Mercury, and well done. .