Shortly after leaving Glasgow the Astra GTC claimed it's first (and hopefully last) casualty. A young deer leapt into my path just a little closer than the fantastic brakes, and my not-quite-so-fantastic reactions, could cope with. The animal seemed to have recovered quickly, as it had left the scene by the time I had found a safe place to turn around and check on the poor beast. It didn't leave empty handed though, as the impact had dislodged a small piece of cosmetic trim from the from my Astra GTC, which was, like the deer, nowhere to be found.
I carried on south from Newton Mearns, a little disheartened by both the accident, and the missing trim, and followed the old A77 down to the Ayrshire Coast. I found an ideally placed B&B by the Cairnryan ferry port, and spent a relaxing weekend on the banks of Loch Ryan.
On Monday morning it was an early start to get along the road to the new Stenaline terminal to cross over to Northern Ireland. The Coastal Road to the Giant's Causeway is a wonder in itself. It's well signposted, and even where this road was closed the diversion kept the Astra GTC in it's element. The car loves corners and Northern Ireland's coastline lends itself to one of the finest roads for a car like this. The steering is beautifully weighted, not as twitchy as some rivals, but still direct, allowing the driver to make relaxed, confident progress.
The Giant's Causeway is a remarkable place. The visitor centre is being renovated just now so care had to be taken where the roads have been strewn with gravel over-spilling from construction trucks. The 10 minute walk to the sight itself is well worth the trek to experience the sheer scale of one of the most incredible natural phenomenon in the world.
After spending longer than planned taking in the beauty and mystery of this amazing place, I eventually got back on the road and headed inland, hunting down the old Grand Prix circuit near the village of Dundrodd. This is a road circuit I first read about just a week or two before my journey began. Unbelievably, it is still used as a motorcycle Tourist-Trophy circuit but the only evidence of this is a few chequered corner kerb-stones and marshalling posts dotted around the route. Oh, and the Start-Finish Straight, complete with Grid, Grandstand, and Paddock.
Belfast itself was a fascinating city, albeit not an easy one to navigate. The landscape is dominated by the two enormous gantry cranes in the harbour, built for the Harland & Wolff Shipyards. Known as “Samson” and “Goliath”, they are very useful landmarks to help visitors to this city find their bearings. Growing up in Glasgow in the 80s and 90s I had a very specific pre-conception of Belfast, and to be honest, not a positive one. But I found it a charming, characterful city, well aware of it's turbulent past, rightly proud of how it has turned around, and looking forward to a fantastic vibrant future, building on the strengths of the united community.
Tuesday was another eye-opening day, as I ventured through the Scottish Borders at dawn and crossed into England. As the sun rose on a crisp morning I pulled off the motorway at Penrith for fuel and to give the car another wash (keeping a white car looking clean for more than a day is near impossible!). Just two minutes from the motorway, is Ullswater, and the first sign that I'm entering a whole new world. I have travelled the M6 many times over the years, but had no idea what I had been missing, just one road over to the west!
The Lake District is one of the most beautiful places in Britain, and the roads are scarcely believable! The road beside Ullswater Lake becomes the Kirkstone Pass, known as one of the highest passes in England. It turned out this was just the first in a series of mountain passes, and routes, each of which became higher, steeper, and tighter as I progressed. The Astra GTC would have it's work cut out in this landscape,
From the Kirstone Inn, at the summit of that first pass, I took a little road, known only as “The Struggle.” A very appropriate name, but the Astra GTC coped well here. The little 1.4litre engine makes a lovely throaty noise under acceleration and soon the hills were alive with the sound of movement as my wee car carved it's way through the fabulous scenery.
Shortly after the quaint little village of Ambleside, I found the sign I had been looking for - “The Wrynose Pass”. This was one of the most intense piece of driving I have ever experienced, and makes the Scottish Highlands seem positively flat by comparison. Barely breaching 15mph, I, and a few other intrepid (or lost) drivers inched our way over impossibly contoured roads which seemed to have been draped over the hillsides at random. On roads like these, complete strangers sharing the same road begin to build a genuine kinship, and never has the phrase “We're all in this together” felt so appropriate.
The Astra GTC remained confidence-inspiring. At times I wondered if the relatively large turning circle would be able to cope with such extreme roads, but it proved no problem, as it blended tight left, steep dip, sweeping right, and over the crest, over and over again, for the best part of an hour. Yet as far as the roads were concerned the best part was yet to come.
To reach Eskdale, from Ambleside, you have to take a route known as the Hardknott Pass. This was the first time the Astra GTC began to struggle. Not with handling, or, steering, or even it's clutch, which was being put through one of the most extreme trials it could face. But the steepness of the hills seemed to interfere with the flow of fuel into or around the engine. I'm no mechanic, but that is certainly what it felt like to me. The tight, steep hairpins are just relentless on the Hardknott pass, and with speeds down to single figures much of the way, it felt like there was a real danger of being at the wrong angle for too long. Breaking down out here would be a massive problem, as these roads are just not suitable for recovery trucks, or even being towed by another car.
After a white-knuckle half-hour the Astra GTC made it to the summit, and just as slowly, edged it's way down the other side to Eskdale. I don't think there is a steeper road in England than the Hardknott Pass, and I've got to give the little car a lot of credit for the competent way it handled the challenging route.
As a treat, in the afternoon, I took the little car through the Trough of Bowland in Lancashire, a great, scenic route, between Lancaster and Clitheroe, to let it get back into the spirited driving it feels most comfortable with.
As I arrived in Preston, my overnight stop, I just had time to stop in at the local Vauxhall Dealership, and ask if they could help me find a replacement part for the front of the car. As the GTC is so new, they didn't have any spare parts to hand, but the quick thinking Parts Manager went out of his way to help me. He let me pop the piece of trim from the front of their Showroom Model and clip it onto my own car! At last my wee car was complete again, and was ready for the busy day it faced on Wednesday.
On this Journey, I am hoping to raise awareness of the fantastic work of the Sporting Bears Motor Club. Http://www.sportingbears.org.uk. On Wednesday Morning I paid a visit to Derian House, one of the Children's Hospices supported by the Bears, through motoring, and social events. So far the Bears have raised well over £10,000 for Derian House, enabling them to develop a new extension to continue caring for the children who live into young adulthood. Derian House can now provide respite care for children and young adults up to the age of 25, continuing the wonderful support they have been providing families who have a child with a life threatening illness. The hospice relies entirely on donations and you can contribute directly via http://www.justgiving.com/derianhouse.
On the Wednesday Afternoon, I took to the motorway and headed south to Ellesmere Port, and the Vauxhall Factory. (Read my blog post of the factory tour). In my next blog, I'll be writing about my Awe-inspiring drive through Wales, and you can find out if I made it to the Top Gear Track!
