Bettyhill, what can I say.......

This is the moment that I knew the inevitable was going to happen and so I leant on my handlebars and ate my mars bar in as leisurely fashion as possible before putting on my we weather gear and pushing off in race of the rain!
Of course that was never going to be a race that I would win and so I became engulfed in the absolutely worst weather of my whole trip.
Two and a half hours of torrential rain soon gets inside your clothes, and totally damps your spirit and bodies willingness to keep going!
Although that of course is just what you have to do.

Those miles were never so long, and the imagined beautiful scenery of my planning when in Totton, totally washed out!
Every move was cold and clammy, and every mile proceeded in slow motion....

By the time I got there I had lost all the excitement that I had been holding on to for so long. And the sight of the North Sea and the idea of flinging myself into it held no appeal at all!
I found my digs and unfortunately they did not raise my spirits in the least. To be honest that was the closest I came to walking out and looking for somewhere else.
Old and tired is the nicest description for this place.
A totally grubby and useless shower did nothing to mellow my mood, the idea of going out to get my dinner was the only light at the end of my little depressed tunnel!

Possibly the whole of Bettyhill, which isn't very big is just as old and tired, because the hotel was little better that my B&B, but I did spot what looked like some half decent food on the plates so I stayed.
Vegetable soup and bread, Chicken fillet and chips with bacon and melted cheese and finally spotted dick and custard washed down with Scotlands own soft drink rival to Coke,
Irnbru.
I got talking with a bloke on holiday in the area and had a good laugh... at last!