Consett to Edinburgh

A big day ahead (little did I know) I set off at 7.30 without any breakfast (bad mistake) to cycle the 88 miles to Lauder.
The pattern was set straight away. A huge hill that went on and on and was so steep that I had to engage my 28th gear for the first time (but not the last) To say that the A68 is undulating does it no justice - it is seriously hilly.
By 10 o clock I was on the point of collapse. I really needed food but there were no towns or villages. I stopped a man getting out of his range rover who told me that the nearest shop was 5 miles back down the huge hill that I had just climbed in about 10 sections including several bursts of gear 28 or 14 miles further on.
I could have cried. I was getting close to knocking on a door to beg for food when I came to the sign for Sally's roadside cafe. 

 Sally was lovely. She could see that I was exhausted and passed me over her bar stool while she rustled up bacon and eggs and coffee and a large slice of "millionaire's shortbread" She asked me about my trip and said that she thought it was amazing. She refused to accept payment and sent me on my way with a warm glow.

After the next series of huge hills I was beginning to seriously wonder if I could reach the border let alone Lauder.

But at West Woodburn (huge hill down bigger hill up) I was able to stock up with bananas and an isotonic drink and the terrain finally began to flatten out a little. 

As I was resting at the top of one of the less flat sections a Chinese student from Nottingham appeared pedalling furiously in an insanely low gear. He was doing Lands end to John o' Groats the hard way - zig zagging his way up the country by way of the major cities ( he had come from Newcastle and was heading for Selkirk) We rode together to the border which lifted my spirits somewhat because he was finding it as hard as I was. 

The two mile climb up Carter Bar to the border saw the end of the serious hills. We took pictures at the top then he set off on the Hawick road and I freewheeled most of the way to Jedburgh (slight exaggeration but it was mostly downhill or flat) 

Suddenly Lauder didn't seem impossible any more. I stocked up on more bananas in Jedburgh and began to make such good time along a by now surprisingly flat A68 that I began to contemplate making Edinburgh which was signed at 49 miles. Home tonight? Was it possible? 

I made Lauder by 6 and decided to go for it - only another 30 miles. It didn't take long for my mistake to become evident. The sky got darker and darker and then the heavens opened. It wasn't the rain that concerned me particularly but my lack of visibility and vulnerability to the traffic. 
But I was making good time until I came to a set of snow gates. My heart sank. That could only mean one thing. 
A serious hill.
 It was!
 It was longer than Carter bar and just as steep.  Then the rain really began - it was sheeting down and beginning to make the road slippery. Help! I was still bowling along but I could scarcely see a thing. Maybe I missed a sign. Maybe there wasn't one but when I got to the end of the A 68 in torrential rain it joined straight on to the city by pass with no other outlet ( and bikes aren't allowed on the by - pass. the planners had helpfully made a cycle crossing so that cyclists could cross and retrace their steps. 
Five miles or so and I was back to Dalkeith. To say it was dispiriting is an understatement but nothing was going to stop me now. Through a slippy Dalkeith into Gilmerton, Liberton, Newington and finally Waverley Station.

I caught the 9.07 train to Ladybank and by 10.30 I was out of my dripping wet things and showered and safe and warm sipping a glass of red wine feeling  quietly satisfied that I had completed an epic journey with an epic last day.
To borrow the words of Steve Redgrave when he won his fifth gold rowing medal "If I ever again suggest riding on the A68 take me out and shoot me!"

Harrogate to Alensford (near Consett)

After chatting for longer than I had intended I finally set off at 8.15

There was a hint of wind against but nothing serious but the hills were a different matter. If I hadn't succeeded in not needing my 28th gear (walking)  to date I might have succumbed several times today.

To date I had mentally split the big hills into three and stopped for a rest after each third but today it was more like sixths or sevenths.

Still I was tent pitched showered and sipping a pint of Guinness in the Derwent Manor Hotel  by 6.30. I can't however pretend to be fresh for tomorrow - I 'm knackered - but we'll see what tomorrow brings.

A strong wind against and I don't think I can do it!

Was that a stray negative thought?

Barnsley to Harrogate

After a great night's sleep and a huge breakfast ( thanks a million Jodie and Stephanie ) Jodie, Stephanie and Elaine arrived and we went to collect my trusty steed from the other Barnsley Premier Inn (where they had kindly agreed to store it overnight).
After a round of photos and much well wishing I set off for Harrogate a mere 36 miles away.
"3 hours. What a doddle. It's like another day off."  I thought, foolishly as it transpired.
Immediately there was a series of huge hills and a tricky gusty strong headwind which slowed progress and made the downhill sections treacherous, as the gusty wind caught the bike and pushed it across the road.

Not an enjoyable trip to Harrogate  but Susan and Geoff made up for it with their friendly welcome and excellent hospitality.
I felt immediately at home with them and the reality lived up to expectations created by our e mail correspondence.

We watched England tiptoe out of the European Cup.  Susan kindly rose early to make breakfast and see me off and Geoff added his support.

Susan suggested that I left what I didn't need anymore and they would transport it home for me so I left more than I kept including all of my under utilised cooking paraphernalia which should help with the big days ahead.

Barnsley - " are ye alright??"

The day dawned bleak and with an angry sky but it was to be a good day.
I contacted Jodie and after a brief mix up over hotels I left my bike with the very helpful staff at the Premier Inn in central Barnsley and went off to meet Jodie at the station ( travel interchange )
We went to meet Elaine and Mel (Jodie's great aunt and uncle ) who were lovely and very welcoming. John and Alistair (two of Dave's friends from London were arriving for lunch along with Stephanie. Lunch was an easy going affair with lots of laughter. Elaine did us all proud.

We then went for a walk in the nearby Wentworth estate which was lovely and remarkable for the fact that the whole village was painted green ( doors, gutters etc)
It was like being on a film set - a bit surreal. Then a pint was enjoyed in the sunshine (which hadn't seemed remotely possible at the start of the day.)

We said goodbye to Alastair and John who had their own things to do and we were joined for dinner in the Elephant and Castle in Tindlebridge,  by Margaret and Steph (another Steph) It was dinner with a swing and whilst the singer wasn't Michael Bublee he was certainly entertaining.

I was embarrassed when Jodie had him announce why we were there but the pub owner put a bucket on the bar and by the time we left nearly £100 has been added to the fundraising total.

It was a good night which ended well for me when I collapsed into a soft warm Premier Inn bed.

Off to Harrogate tomorrow to say G'day to our Australian exchange partners Susan and Geoff.

Dry please!

Coalville to Barnsley

I have finally made it to Barnsley.
Although I put on a confident air I was never entirely sure that I could do it particularly with the time restriction. It is a strange feeling because this is only goal 1 I have still to make it back to Freuchie by Wednesday afternoon.

Today has not been a fun ride. It has rained nearly all day and this afternoon a dangerously gusty strong wind got up making each of the many descents tricky. Through the centre of both Derby and Sheffield was never going to be easy (but there was no realistic alternative)

The entry to Derby was exceptionally busy and then I saw the horse drawn hearse and the crowds of onlookers. At the time I thought that it might have been the funeral of  a soldier from Afghanistan but it turned out it was the six children who had died in a house fire.

Sheffield was horrible! The road surfaces were appalling and the drivers behaved as if they had never seen a bike before - perhaps they hadn't because there were no bike lanes and precious few allowances for bikes.

The road from Sheffield to Barnsley was steep and horrible made worse by the sign that announced that I was entering Barnsley fully 6 miles and several very steep climbs before the town centre.

Putting up a tent in this weather was out of the question so I have allowed myself the luxury of a Premier Inn room for the night right in the centre of Barnsley. The receptionist was excellent and suggested bringing my bike up in the lift (4 floors up from the car park) and she stowed my bike and gear  in a spare room next to reception.

A hot shower beckons and then off to explore Barnsley - centre ville..

Oxford to Coalvile

It rained all night again and yet again I packed everything away wet.

It was a foggy, drizzly, murky morning as I set off towards Oxford centre. I had decided that it would be easier to go through the centre than to do battle with the lorries on the ring road.

At the first set of lights I stopped alongside a guy with a rucksack on his back. I asked if he was going in or through and was pleased when he agreed to let me follow him through the centre. We got chatting and he was heading for Bicester - a 75 minute commute. Mutual respect was established and I see tonight that he has donated on the web site. Thank you very much!

It (the weather) gradually cleared up over the course of the morning. The day was uneventful but the road was very busy and I had to maintain my concentration. My lovely Brooks saddle which had gradually become too soft had got wet overnight and was in need of attention ( I didn't have the right tool). In Southam I came across a local bike shop so I stopped to see of they could help. The boy in the shop said that his mum was riding London to Paris for charity next week so I was able to sponsor her as payment for his help. He turned the screw at the front of the saddle which stretches the leather and makes it firmer.

My seat is now as good as new. On to Barnsley tomorrow and the weekend.

Oxford

I awoke to a beautiful sunny morning - the tent was roasting. It must be at least 10 I thought but it was only 6.30! Up and at 'em by 8, I took the bus from the park and ride which was  immediately outside the campsite.

Everywhere you turn in Oxford there is some gothic spire or some medieval tower. The students just take it for granted but the Japanese tourists were all over it like the bridge on the river Kwai.(not very pc I know)
 I strolled, I took a few photos I strolled some more - frankly I was starting to get bored(you can have too much of a good thing) when I noticed a huge amount of security around and an inordinate number of police.
I asked one of them if Oxford was always like this. He explained that it was a special graduation day and that Aung San Suu Kyi was being presented with an honorary degree. I decided that this piece is serendipity should not be wasted so I took up my place in the waiting hordes to try to get a glimpse of this famous lady.
I was rewarded a few minutes later with a beaming smile and a fabulous demonstration of serenity and dignity amid the pomp and splendor of the parade.

The crowd cheered whenever she raised her hand to wave and it was evident that the crowd was gathered for only one purpose. Some animal activists had tried to hijack the event for their own publicity but they were drowned out by the cheering for the diminutive Burmese lady. It felt a touch Orwellian to see the police videoing the animal rights protesters who sounded more like debaters than activists.


On the way back I enjoyed a pint at the Head of the River which I recognised from Morse.

I decided that punting could remain unexplored.

Portsmouth to Oxford

I set off good and early and the road immediately started to go UP.

The workers rushing to get to work were not keen to leave me too much room so I ended up shaking my fist a few times. I came a cross a road biker commuting to work who had had two flats. I offered him an inner tube but he declined on the basis that I would probably need it and someone was coming to pick him up.
He said he was in court that morning I hope he was a lawyer (he was too young to be a judge).

We exchanged bike talk until his lift arrived.

The terrain continued up - at least up then down then up. I stopped for a coffee in Arlesford which was a lovely town with individual rather than chain shops.

I followed my via Michelin route as far as Basildon when I gave up in favour of following a main road.

I reached Oxford by 6 and by 8 I had pitched the tent, showered, eaten a giant fish supper and was in the pub watching England steal the game from Ukraine in the football.

The camping and caravan club site is within a mile of Oxford city centre but set in leafy surrounds by the river bank.

Sights of Oxford here I come.

St Malo to Portsmouth

I made an early start, said goodbye to my chums from Rugby and headed for the port and the Brittany Ferries office to beg a space on an empty boat. No amount of charm or charity references could avoid a £25 admin fee but I was on my way home - with two days in hand  just in case the doubting Thomases who thought that my schedule in Britain was over optimistic were right.

I was joined in my prime spot on the boat by a lovely couple from Southsea who were the only other cyclists on board. Simon was a sprightly 82 and Kathleen was a marvelous 70. They had Belgian electric bikes which allowed them to keep on enjoying their cycling trips.

They insisted on showing me the way to the ferry which for the tiny distance covered was expensive @£3.80 Simon kindly insisted on giving me change for the ferry but in the end I had to use a note. (I will donate his change to the cause with thanks.) I really liked them and wish them a long and happy retirement.

The crossing was calm and uneventful. I succeeded in charging everything electrical  for two days ahead.

It should have been a simple 5 mile trip trip to the night's campsite but the owner wasn't very good at instructions. I phoned when I was within half a mile and she sent me on a wild goose chase which added a few miles to the trip then charged me £12 for the worst facilities so far.

The Ellerslie Camping and Caravan site is not to be recommended although some workers appeared to be living there permanently - poor souls. One night was enough for me!

Rennes to St Malo

It had been my intention to go back into "Rennes centre" and explore but it was a lovely sunny morning (for a change) and the legs felt fine, so I decided just to set off for St Malo.

I was on the NE of Rennes and the road I wanted (voie de la liberation) was NW.  I was looking at my map at a junction when a Frenchman of about my age riding a hybrid bike stopped and asked where I was going. When I told him he said he was going that way and I could follow if I liked (he should have said if I could).

 He set off at Tour de France pace but I wasn't about to let down Ecosse so we reached the road I wanted in no time which reached Roman road straight into the distance and UP. My French guide turned off with lots of Bonnes - route, courage, journee and I ground my way up the first of an endless succession of steep hills up followed by exhilarating fast downs.

I was following a route marked "St Malo a velo" when the signs disappeared and I was faced with a motorway entrance and lots of little place names none of which seemed to be in the direction I wanted to go. I wasn't about to make the autoroute mistake again so I flagged down a road biker (which was brave for until now they had generally ignored me with disdain). He explained that we needed to zig zag through the small villages to regain the route and offered to guide me. Unlike before we went at a normal pace (20kph) and chatted amiably. He was a really nice guy who was out for his usual 25km Sunday morning ride- which turned into 40kms because he guided me much further than was necessary. Riding side by side chatting was an experience I hope to repeat.

The campsite in St Malo was on a sort of isthmus between two ports just below an ancient fort. The steep climb should have warned me that the site would not be flat. The  choice - fall off the mat downhill or sideways. I met a really nice couple from Rugby who had been on a camping trip around Spain and France for a month. They had been enthusiastic bikers previously and took a keen interest in my trip. By the time they had told me of their camping trips to Africa and India I felt that  it had put my little journey into proper perspective.


True to form it rained all night and everything was packed away wet again  but I slept well thanks to the "wee dram" dispensed by by my camping neighbours.

Cordemais to Rennes

It is getting to be too much of a habit packing up a soaking wet tent with a steadily increasing  variety of wet clothes waiting to be dried.
My planned route was now abandoned and I had to work out a way to get back on the road to Rennes preferably  without retracing my steps.

I don't know what the original route would have been like but this has been my hardest day's cycling so far. To describe it as lumpy is an understatement. It was just a succession of steep hills both up and down. I didn't have to resort to my 28th gear (walking ) but that was only because the bike is too heavy to push.  I have arrived at a lovely municipal site on the outskirts of Rennes good facilities (and free wi fi) for less than 10 euros.

I plan a rest day and a visit to Rennes centre tomorrow.

 I think I might sleep tonight

Bretignolles to Cordemais

It rained most of the night, again, but the strong wind had dried everything by the time I packed the tent away (for all the difference it was to make).

The strong wind was almost behind as I went to explore St Gilles Croix de Vie and St Jean de Monts.

I didn't recognise either of them from our family camping holidays 25 years ago.

 In St Jean de Monts I nearly came a real cropper. I was sailing along the promenade when I hit a patch of sand which had been blown onto the piste. The front wheel started to go from under me and the weight of the front panniers made it worse but somehow I stayed upright and clipped in. But I was left shaking like a leaf and actively seeking a different route.
From my new route out of St Jean de Monts to the crossing of the Loire at Le Pellerin was uneventful but quick with a great wind at my back. The boat across the Loire is free. I met a Swiss couple on the boat who were cycling back to Switzerland. A quick 15kms and I would be set up by 3 o clock.

I should have known better. The camping was closed for upgrading work so I was advised by the municipal worker. Fortunately he was able to tell me where the nearest open camp site was - only another 8 kms. However it rained -  really rained,  for 7 of the 8 km and I arrived drenched to the skin.

 I have never erected a tent in driving rain before - an experience I hope not to repeat. However it is an excellent site (7 euros) and after a well deserved hot shower I am now watching France v Ukraine in the large public space (unusual but very welcome). Who knows what tomorrow will bring - yesterday I nearly bought a sun hat!

Royan to La Rochelle

It rained all night - again!

I got up early (so I thought) to find my Basque friends of last evening having breakfast and ready to leave by 7am.
I made it by 8 and it had stopped raining.
 I had packed the tent away soaking wet but rain means no headwind doesn't it? Not this morning.
Rain and a headwind but the very busy road from Royan to Rochefort had a "bande d'urgence" which was smooth so I was able to make good progress to Rochefort where the road turned to fast dual carriageway and I was no longer welcome.
Fortunately the tourist office knew of a secret quiet way to La Rochelle where I met a really nice couple who were cycling from the Italian border to St Malo in 50km stages staying in Hotels. Between us we managed to navigate a difficult section then I left them to potter arriving in La Rochelle around 4.

 By 5 the tent was up and I was sipping a beer on the "vieux port" (gulping would be more accurate).


I was able to try out my super duper jetboil stove for the first time tonight - lardons and omelette was my first delicious effort.

I am starting to get the hang of this camping lark. Sunshine certainly helps. I met an English lady at the washing up area who let me use her waste washing up suds to wash my dishes. Such generosity!

La Rochelle to Bretignolles sur mer

Since it was supposed to be rest day I turned over when the alarm went off at 6.30 and it was 10 before I set off.
I got to within 1 km of where I wanted to go when I hit the "rocade" - ringroad. No bikes, no choice but to head 5 km back to "centre ville" and 5kms in the right direction so it was nearly noon before I was clear of La Rochelle. The Basques would have been horrified. 

I didn't have any great plans other than to see how far up the Vendee coast I could get.
Much to my surprise I caught a tail wind at last and glorious sunshine, so I made really good progress and arrived at Bretignolles sur mer at about 7 pm, having stopped for a picnic lunch, and an expensive beer on the sea front at Les Sables d' Olonne.

 I am really getting the hang of this camping lark. I got the campsite for half price and then cooked a special omelette with chorizo and olives washed down, naturally, with a nice little rose.

It was a really good day. I am looking forward to seeing if St Jean de Monts is as impressive as I remember it - it was 25 years ago!

Tuesday Bordeaux to royan

Somebody up there doesn't like me - I am convinced.
It rained all night and the t shirt I washed and hung out to dry at Raissac is still wet as is the travel towel which has never dried. It was interesting packing up in the rain but I managed to keep the dry things dryish. I realised that my luck had changed when I stopped for a coffee, shortly after I set off, to work out a route around Bordeaux As I entered the cafe I plucked up my courage and offered everyone my hand and wished them "bonjour".  The French worker who had three coffees lined up ready to drink offered to help me plot my route around bordeaux. He went to his van to get a better map and then wrote out a list of the places I should look out for. Fantastic. Thank you.


It rained all morning but when it rains there tends to be no wind so it is not all downside.. My galoshes were excellent keeping my feet warm and dry. Once out of Bordeaux I was immediately into the grand chateaux of the Medoc - names you have heard of Rothschild, Margaux etc.

The rain stopped and the wind picked up in my face again and I was starting to feel sorry for myself when I came upon a party of American cyclists on some kind of "cycling for softies " type tour. I passed them all going up a hill and when I asked them where they had started from They said it was  it was Macau (about 20kms) At the bottom of the next hill when I stopped to take a photo they were being collected in a van. It kept me going all afternoon despite a strong headwind.

When I got to the boat the relativity of it all was brought home. I met three French people of at least my age who were setting out on a forty day 4000km tour of France. We chatted on the boat and exchanged photographer duties and it became obvious that they are real cycle tourers whilst I am just playing at it.





They were very nice and admired my Brooks B17 saddle but weren't too impressed with the rest of the gear. I wished them "bonne route" and "Bon courage" which  they reciprocated and then they turned up in the same campsite about half an hour later- but I got there first by getting a map from tourist information.

Bordeaux

Bordeaux has a joined up transport system 1euro 40 gets you an hour of public transport - bus tram bus they all link.

Admittedly the tram runs down the middle of the main road but there is no need for the tourist bus just take the tram.

However there isn't that much to see - maybe it was the rain ( all day or maybe it was that I have just been to Rome ( a lot to follow) but it was nothing too special  - pleasant and interesting but nothing fantastic.

 But it is big and I have to decide whether to go through it or round it tomorrow!

Sunday to Bordeaux

Having slept like a log I awoke to a black sky and heavy rain. My fellow guests at breakfast looked at me as if I had two heads when I set off to rejoin the Canal de Deux Mers. It was eerie riding alongside the canal in pouring rain with not another soul in sight - no walkers or boaters and no other cyclists. It rained all morning and that was to be the good part of the day.

When it stopped raining the wind got up really strongly in my face. I met two Brits going the other way who helpfully said that they were glad they were not going my way against that wind. I finally ground my way to the campsite  only to find a sign saying "complet" - full. Fortunately it didn't take too much persuasion to be allowed to squeeze my tent in because I wasn't going any further!

Tomorrow will certainly be easier for it is my first rest day. I am going to explore Bordeaux on foot using public transport.

What a day!

The day began well. The sun was shining and everything was packed away smoothly when I noticed that my back tyre was a bit flat. No problem I thought - just pump it up. That's when I heard the hiss of escaping air and I discovered the hole in the tyre. My cycling couple neighbours helpfully suggested Decathlon in Toulouse which was 20 kms away.
So I unpacked the bike and a greasy handed hour later I had repaired the puncture and the hole in the  tyre (as best I could) and I was on my way.
The cycle path by the Canal du Midi was like a motorway for bikes and runners and walkers. At first like crocodile Dundee I said "bonjour" to everyone but soon reduced it to a nod.  The middle of the day was pretty flat boring and uninteresting countryside as the cycle way followed first the Canal du Midi and then the Canal de Deux Mers. My one good piece of luck was when I met an old lady on a bike who directed me to a bike shop for a new back tyre.  Near the end of the planned day and looking forward to a hot shower in the municipal campsite at Bon Encontre when bang! The back tyre blew out . Nearly crying I put on the new tyre and headed for the campsite (which didn't exist except on the Internet)

The mayor in his wisdom decided not to open this year. Never mind I had passed lots of campsites so a few miles at most  and I'll find another I thought optimistically.
 Thirty miles later it was getting dark and I had not passed a campsite or a hotel or a chambre d' hote. I was on the point of knocking on a door to ask if I could camp on their garden for the night  when a sign appeared as if by magic from the gathering gloom. Only four kms promised the sign to a chambre d'hote (B&B)
It was almost dark when I tentatively inquired if they had a room. I held my breath while he gave a Gallic shrug and said that normally there would be no problem but there was a special party and all ten rooms were full but like the innkeeper in Bethlehem he took pity on me and offered me an attic room which was just perfect.(it had a bed)  I was offered the use of the family bathroom and told to treat it like home. Better I was to have dinner at the family dinner table. I nearly cried with relief - my hosts were generous and brilliant. It would have been easy to turn me away. Perhaps the fact that I was totally knackered was in my favour.

 I cannot recommend too highly "les tilleuls de la voie verte" or  praise too highly Sylvie & Claude Frisson www.chambre-dhote-gite-tilleulsdelavoieverte.fr

Surely it can only get better tomorrow?

Day Two

Huge headwind all day, after an early start.  Everything wet.  Can't have a shower, towel is soaking wet. I try it anyway but it is not at all pleasant. Eventually found my way to tonight's campsite at Deyne just short of Toulouse.

near Toulouse

I camped next to a French couple who are cycle touring with all of the comforts of home. They have a table and chairs and real glasses for their wine. That's style!  But, heavy, like my bike, I need to lose a few kilos.  Why did I think I  might cook?

Going to sleep now. It is definitely not easy to maintain a blog on an i - phone! 

Raissac to carcassonne

Finally under way.

It took me the whole morning to pack the bike - this camping lark is not easy!

Gisele came to head the send off party and take a photo - in fact she was the send off party.

The cycle to Carcassonne was uneventful. Putting the tent up was more eventful but it is up - lets hope it stays up.

The bike felt strange at first with two front panniers but I quickly got used to the weight and I do have some very low gears which is just as well because there is no way I could push it up a hill. (these words may come back to haunt me)

It is just as well I put the tent up carefully. During the night there was a fantastic electrical storm (orage) which was accompanied by torrential rain and a big wind. I was amazed to still be dry and intact in the morning.