Last Wednesday, 23 September, marked 40 weeks since the accident in France, and 15 weeks since my shoulder replacement surgery. I finally got back on to my beloved Violetta, my touring bike, the previous weekend. And it was good. One week later, we loaded up the bikes with camping gear and took off for Oban, by train.

This evening, we’re just outside Tobermory, Mull, ensconced in a little shepherd’s hut. The wind is howling and the weather gods are preparing to unleash a small monsoon overnight. Hence the hut, and not the tent. The tent would cope; not so sure about the occupants.

The ride today from the ferry at Craignure to the campsite at Tobermory was about 40km, including exploratory deviations. A few hills to remind legs and lungs what was required of them. And wind. Wind that cancelled ferries to the outer isles, and put the others on warning possible cancellation. Fortunately, a tailwind for us, but loud and distracting, making communication impossible and making me quite delighted to get out of it.

But – I did it, and I’m inordinately pleased with myself. Yes, my shoulder will appreciate a rest tomorrow, but it’s doing brilliantly.

In an earlier post, I shared my target of getting back to France at week 43 to continue the interrupted journey. France isn’t going to happen quite yet. There are still appointments with surgeon and physiotherapist, and it seems sensible to let the system do its thing. I expect that to wind down in the next month or so. Meanwhile, there are plenty of places to explore, friends and family to visit, and housesits to enjoy. We shall venture further afield ere long.