Giants in the Forest Chapter 5.2: Getting to Drum

The idea for this post was to follow the map route, courtesy of Google, and describe the road from Aberdeen to Drum Castle.

It took me a while to find the right road out of the city - I don't like cycling in urban areas, mainly because I worry about jumping traffic lights or turning up into one way streets. I try to orientate myself by checking the number of pubs along the side of the road, although once I get onto the A93, it is all too easy. Although there is enough traffic to remind me that I am not in the wilds - and the odd truck to blow me into the pavement - it is surprisingly safe.


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I alternate between rather pleasant streaks of housing and more undeveloped patches of land. A closed hotel intrigues me enough for a tiny detour, and I coast up to the boarded-up entrance. There's a poster for a Circus on the window, Zippo's, which I have seen in Glasgow. I like the routines with the budgies the best.

Back when I was teaching at St Aloysius, I considered writing a response to Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance that would be about Jesuit philosophy and bicycle rides. At the time, I though that the pedal bike was a more suitable vehicle for spiritual contemplation than the petrol-driven fiend. The latter might have more of a rock'n'roll edge, all very American and fast: a push bike struck me as more British, more environmentally friendly, very 'vicars arriving at evensong.' I think I can see a few wind farms in the distance. Or was that from the train, where they excited comment, both positive and negative?

I flick between gears to listen to the rotating repetition of the chain against the cogs. It all seems fine. I couldn't ever work out a good title - Zen being so cool and concise, words like 'desolation' or 'consolation' felt too vague. The Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius of Loyola and the Art of Riding a Bicycle Around The Western Isles seemed both verbose and pretentious.

There's a warm breeze moving east to west. I duck my head down to prevent it blowing me into the traffic and hug the curb. It's a pleasure to be on a road that hasn't been pot-holed by frost. Verbose and pretentious might be a good description of me, but I wanted people to read it, not laugh and walk away.

Like jesting Pilate... I think that comparison can be left, thank you... truth, if you must know, is a gentle ride to a castle on a sunny day. Drum Castle is a real castle, too - started off in the 1200s, when there was a chance that knights might turn up and start a siege. And after seeing the Giants in Edinburgh, I am looking forward to meeting this new set - the first ones who are in a location that conjures up chivalry and those windows in the shape of crosses that you can shoot bows and arrows through.

There's what appears to be a large Garden Centre on my right - and beyond, one of those special brown signposts. This took less time than the map suggested. I swing into the final stretch, and jump off the bike to walk into the Estate.