Rolling Tales

Justin's brought the domain name for our new bells-and-whistles website which will be the home for our future cycling adventures. Not much there in terms of content or current photos yet, but over the next few months you'll find a bit more over at www.rolling-tales.com.

Less than three months till we're off... scary!

Broken chain link

My £60 Trek Antelope wasn't much loved by its previous owner, so I've learnt to replace gear cables which have snapped within the shifters housing, know what it feels like when a crank arm is about to fall off and cleaned a lot of gunk off the cogs which look suspiciously cracked and worn.

No surprises then when the chain gave in earlier this month, though it was only one side of a link, which was somewhat of a blessing as it took a couple of days of commuting with my pedal-stroke feeling a bit 'weird' before I had a closer look and saw the link sticking out like a broken arm.

Fast forward to mid-November and with a handy Protools CT-5 chaintool purchased and a Sunday morning spare, we attempted a repair job, with this video serving as encouragement that the task ahead would be a piece of cake.

In reality the old pins really didn't want to budge but with a bit of brute force (Justin) and encouragement (me) we pulled off the broken bits of chain and reattached the slightly shorter chain, even having time to read the instructions for our new tool which showed how to loosen the chain links after reattaching.

Clever eh, and we didn't even leave grease on the living room floor.

9500 k

If I could easily take a a photo of the inside of the sewer system, it would be here.

I'm not one hundred percent sure that's where my bicycle computer ended up, but the romantic in me thinks that clattering off the road and into a gutter grating is a good way to go, even if the clock was only 500 kilometres from clocking over.

Last Friday evening, when this micro tragedy struck, I'd been pondering the distance on my way home – just five weeks of commuting until the clock ticked over, less if we managed some weekend rides into November. I wondered how far you'd get if you travelled 10,000 k in a straight line? Could I have cycled to Russia?

The computer will have filtered through the waste water system and has probably been fished out with leaves and rubbish and empty cola cans by some mechanical arm.

As for the 1000k photo project, I'm not sure if I should try my luck with another Cateye Strada 8 and reset it to 9500 (which frankly feels like cheating), start again with something new, or give up the idea all together? I'm going to have to think this one through.

A map named Asia

We're the proud new owners of a map named Asia. Its a thing of beauty, and its not just its size ( it's length is just shorter than the width of our double bed) or the bright colours; or the twin expanses of Russia and China through the middle. No, the brilliant piece of art, which had me idling in bookstores with the weight of it in my hand trying to justify the spend, this map stretches East from Ireland past England all the way to the tip of Australia. Yes it covers Asia, but the clever mapmaking boffins who designed it don't let Asia sit in isolation.


The reason this is so exciting is not just because of my fetish for cartography. Next year we hope to be lucky enough to be travelling some of that by bicycle and while we've been plotting things we want to see on our trip on googlemaps sometimes the big picture is worth looking at as well.

Even if its just to remind ourselves how big things are.

Swimming at Dancing Ledge

Take two of camping at Tom's Field Campsite over last month's August Bank Holiday weekend. This time we knew what we were looking for when we followed signs to the Dancing Ledge, but the day before it had been raining and on Monday morning it was still overcast so we doubted that we would want to swim.

We scrambled down a cliff fron to reach this pool which had been blasted out of the ledge and by then I had made my mind up that it was one of those once only opportunities, so jumped in.

The 9000 km photo

This is the 9000 km photo, taken on a bank holiday Saturday just outside Swanage where we're based for a few days camping at the tail end of Summer. We're late out of London because of mechanical failures and end up on a slow train down to Poole, so despite an early start its late afternoon when we cycle into Swanage in search of lunch and supplies and I forgot that I was about to clock another 1000k.

So not truly a 1000k photo, but a safe margin over, heading up to Tom's Field Campsite. Cat and Graham are just coming into frame.

Cycling to the top, with stops for cake - Part 5

This is part five of the day by day account of our trip from Lands End to John O'Groats.

Day 18: June 30th
Glen Nevis to Inverness

Glen nevis to inverness. 111k. hot day. slow going on tow paths and forest tracks then climbed east side of loch ness to avoid main rds. didn't see nessie

Tow paths and forest tracks all morning. Slow going on gravel but away from the traffic on the A82. Looked back at Ben Nevis in bright blue sky – hot morning.

Lunch outside a service station among silly low blood sugar arguments then further snacks in Invergarry at the start of Loch Ness before heading to the more remote east side of the loch. Climbed up into the hills, long drags that went up through forestry, eventually reaching a sort of plateau with water supply lochs carved out of the landscape. It was hard work in the sun and with the knowledge of the distance up to Inverness still ahead of us, but we did get a fantastic view and spectacular descent which just went straight down like a ribbon with kinks in it.

We eventually turned off a side road to head back towards Loch Ness, passing signs for local falls further ahead. As we approached them, I ran down to visit, while Justin stayed by the bikes with the flies that were following us. He didn't miss much, as they were from hydro dams and little more than a trickle down the mountain side.

The next bit on the map looked downhill and flat as it followed the line of the loch, but in reality was a series of gradual hills which meant we couldn't cruise. We passed a single monster watcher snoozing with a tripod and camera set up next to him We had planned to stop before Inverness but I was in front and without the map, and missed the turn off, leading us into the town centre. We found the campsite easily enough, and while it was enclosed in a giant wire fence, the campers section was full of other cyclists. Must be at least 20 degrees here but texts from London say its hit 35 down there.

Met a German girl at the campsite, cycling around Scotland with her boyfriend. She said they didn't understand how we managed with so little stuff. We thought that the giant cycle route map of the UK we saw them holding up to the fence to plan their journey may have added to their load somewhat!

Day 19: July 1st
Inverness to Helmsdale

Inverness to helmsdale. 119k. most of day on main roads with firth to our right. spotted colony of seals. towns much bigger than i expected up here

Hot morning, even before we leave camp its warm – we're out at 8:30 only to stop in central Inverness for a coffee before leaving the town. I really like Inverness even though we've seen so little of it – don't know if its the friendly coffee shop staff, or the streams of postmen cycling off on their front heavy bright red bikes.

On main road (A9 mostly) for majority of day with some small detours. Towns out here are much bigger than I expected and everyone is out in the warm weather. We frequent a few bakeries to sample Scotch pies (pretty much gravy) and cold potato top pies (just like what we used to eat at school).

We catch Britain's smallest ferry from Cromaty to Nigg – only room for two cars and the deck spins around to let them drive off facing the right way. We have lunch in Tain – in a garden in front of a cemetery and a sign for the Tain experience which doesn't look very busy.

We cycle a loop of minor road around Dornoch to get off the main road for a bit and are treated to the sight of a colony of seals just outside a settlement called Skelbo. Tea and scones on a busy main road in Brora, then the last few miles to Helmsdale and loveliest hostel ever – gorgeous living space, light and clean. We have huge pub dinners followed by desert back in the communal kitchen before we feel fed enough.

There's a sign outside our hostel which says 55k to John O'Groats – not for us, we're going the long way around.

snack report: they sell potato topped mince pies up here which taste just like the ones we used to get at school canteen. an insight into nz food history?

Day 20: July 2nd
Helmsdale to Thurso

Helmsdale to thurso. 94k. baking hot day- thousands of butterflies in heather and deer. swum cautiously near 1st nuclear powerplant. stormy evening

Keep waking up in the night as it is really light in our room. Toast and cereal for breakfast, then out of the door and on bikes before 9. We take a minor road to Melvich - the wind is behind us and climbs are gradual so we move fast. There are lots of birds and butterflies and epic treeless landscapes, hardly any settlements.

We stop at a near empty RSPB visitor centre in an old railway station waiting rooms, following train tracks that we'll be coming back along in a few days. Warm day again – we're scheduled to stop at Melvich but we're there before 1pm so carry on towards the next major town, Thurso. Swim at Reay in sight of a decommissioned nuclear powerplant, then eat lunch on a grassy embankment overlooking the sea.

Thurso campground is run by an American who brought the place a few months ago and is doing it up, slowly it seems – the place is in a state of disrepair and wins the award for worst showers of trip!

We eat a proper fish and chip dinner which is scoffed quickly before a big storm hits and almost soaks through our tent in half an hour. As soon as the storm stops everyone in the campsite is out inspecting damage. We can see a house across the bay on fire. We watch fast moving clouds as the late evening sun comes back out.

Day 21: July 3rd
Thurso to Wick via John O'Groats

John o'groats! 32k - whole way in a gale of a headwind. job done... except the small matter of cycling back to wick this afternoon. photos first tho

Headwind all the way to John O'Groats which makes it hard going in a desolate landscape. Nothing to see, just the last few miles to tick off and optimistic B&Bs drying washing in the wind.

This end of the country is a bleak attraction without any of the money spinning fudge-making and clothing franchises of its Southern brother. Barely any visitors aside from two other cyclists completing the challenge in a makeshift cafe. We sign the book, order bacon and square sausage sandwiches and look at the deserted boarded up hotel outside. Even the official photographer at the direction sign looks bored. Relief from the dreariness comes outside where the other cyclists offer to take our photo and we stand holding our bikes in the wind comparing notes about our adventures.

On the way forward to Wick we pass two cyclists nearing the end, on racing bikes with no luggage and our headwind at their tail.
“Starting or finishing?” one yells at me over the wind, a video camera in one hand.
“Finishing!” I yell back.
“Good” he shouts back as he passes, still filming.

Its a long haul into Wick broken by views of some ruined four story houses, now run down, but made me wonder who they were built for up here. We're in Wick by 2pm and it reminds us of the stone houses and harbours we left in Thurso.

Our Harbour View Guesthouse has no view of the harbour and smells like stale smoke. Justin keeps on having to remind me that there wasn't anything else on offer when we booked the accommodation. We have the afternoon off though, and it feels unbelieveable what we have managed to do.

thurso to wick via john o'groats. 60k total. headwind and straight most of the way. the end is run down though met 2 other finishers. pints downed in wick!

Cycling to the top, with stops for cake - Part 4

This is part four of the day by day account of our trip from Lands End to John O'Groats.

Day 13: June 25th
Threlkeld to Powfoot (just past Annan)

threlkeld to annan. 82k. waved beautiful lake district goodbye, snuck up on sleeping ponies then sailed into scotland on tailwind. sky is huge here

Shrugged off the last of Lake District hills. Counted number of new midge bites and waved goodbye to the lake district this morning. Crossed fords and went through farm gates which form part of the C2C route.

Passed sleeping ponies, and later fed ponies roaming freely in commons before Hesket Newmarket, where we stopped for morning tea and chatted to a man who was drinking coffee and had a young daughter in tow.

Quick ride into Carlisle and a 1pm lunch. Warm, even sunny in Carlisle – a first for us in three visits and makes the town seem much friendlier. New cycle route had opened up headig North and before long we had popped up in Scotland.

Flat cycling on rough roads along the Solway coast. Amazing wide sky seems to dwarf the land, and the sea stretches out forever until it hits the other side where we ended our first multi-day cycle tour at Boustead Hill a few years ago. We wave to our former selves – having come a long way from having one pannier each and staying in BnBs across the width of the country.

One of the cheapest campsites yet is just past a golf course, on the outskirts of Annan. Its a quiet site with only one other tent pitch (some older European cyclists) alongside us looking out onto an empty football pitch with a row of static caravans fading into the distant. There's also an enclosed hut for cooking and dishes which must indicate that the wind is a permanent fixture. The bathrooms pipe the local radio station and woman's have couches and plants. Very posh and only £10 for the night. They even recharge my cellphone battery for free.

The mudflats left by the receding tide look appealing but we satisfy ourselves by hanging out in the shelter of our tent watching the clouds move swiftly over the sky.

Snack patrol: well fed on lake district specialties these last few days though still not sure i like kendal mint cake. ambleside cafes are topnotch

Day 14: June 26th - 141 k
Annan to Farmers Field near Coylton Arms

Annan to coylton. 140k. flat roads didn't feel like scotland until pm hills. yha shut so cycled on. gave up at 9pm-camping in a farmers field lots of midges

Long straight flat roads for the first few hours of the day so we flew into Dumfries where we had decided to try and sort beds in a SYHA which was further up the road. Didn't really feel like Scotland proper yet – too flat – the Solway still too prominent. Justin got a number from Dumfries Tourist Information for the SYHA and found out the hostel we were looking to stay in was only available for group bookings, the start of a series of misfortunes on today's accommodation front.

Stopped in a a southern Scotland village for lunch at a real oddity - an organic teahouse which specialised in the variety of soups they offered. We weren't the usual clientele, those would be ladies discussing other teahouses in Scotland and admiring artwork from local artists while I was impatiently waiting to get served in my grubby cycling kit. According to a clipping on the wall this may have been the best teahouse in Scotland. Meanwhile, whilst waiting I seriously wondered if we should give up on the idea, but when our food came out - warm soup and toasted sandwiches – it was just the fuel that we needed. Whole town had a wierdly hippie vibe we couldn't quite put our fingers on, quite unlike anything else we were to pass today.

Back in Dumfries the Information ladies had told Justin that there wasn't a lot of accommodation in the area we were heading. We had marked a few places to try – first village we got to about 3pm and while there was a sign for a B&B there wasn't sign of much else to entertain us, so we continued on. We tried the next town, which had a significant number of rowdy youth on the main street, waiting for buses to take them elsewhere, it seemed. Justin heard someone say something about nicking our bikes and the two hotels which did accommodation didn't look like they'd do the kind of accommodation where we might want to stay.

Our cycle guide marked a campsite at another town up the road, but it wasn't on our OS map – found a burnt out wreck on the edge of a depression hit township. Two pubs which would have been likely candidates for a bed for the night on the outskirts seemed to mock our intentions, one was boarded up and the other had been burnt to the ground. We passed another two towns the same as this – sitting menancingly on hills with their identikit houses and one or two empty workers pubs. Justin spent a lot of time in said pubs asking about accommodation, mostly with no luck.

We went quite a lot further than we had planned for today and ended up doing tired circles trying to find a full campsite and then retracing steps to a full B&B until at 9pm we gave up and found a farmer to ask if we could stay in his field. The night that followed was full of midges, thousands of the buggers, falling on the tent like a rainstorm.

We had no dinner save for a few banana sandwiches and we were dog tired – we collapsed and hoped that we had killed most of them. We had been too tired to enjoy the evenings ride – 9pm is definitely too late to make camp!

Day 15: June 27th
Coylton to Blackwaterfoot

coylton farmers field to blackwaterfoot bnb on isle of arran. 71k. scrubby coastal ride then leisurely pm over arran hills. quite a contrast these 2 days

Early start (well you would as well if you could still hear a thick hailstorm of midges against your tent). Breakfast in a school yard, then second breakfast just outside Dondonald at Cafe Rosella – well deserved fry up. Our friendly waitress tells us about her phobias – water, cows, planes – but how she would really like to visit New Zealand to see the coloured water. It takes me a while to comprehend that she's talking about Rotorua.

We hit a coastal cycle path which takes us up to Ardrossan – the tarmac winds all over the place and is really scrubby, not as scenic as we had assumed. Its low tide everywhere but a warm day so would have been good for a swim in the natural tidal pools dotted up the coast.

We take the ferry to Arran and the on board tourism information lady sorts us a B&B in Blackwaterfoot within seconds of our enquiry. She also gives us some advice about midges – apparently we shouldn't camp near trees or water – last night we were directed to the spot by the trees and stream – thanks Mr Farmer man!

We have first lunch just off the ferry in Broddick and then took supplies from the bakery for a second lunch en-route. We took it slowly over the huge hill across the middle of the island before reaching our B&B for the night and visited the Kintyre Hotel (only pub in town, but a very posh one this time) for dinner and dessert with views across to the mainland. Nice way to blow the daily budget and a deep sleep in beds after an easy days cycling.

snack patrol: made up for lack of calories yesterday with diner fryup at cafe rosella just outside dundonald. perfect second breakfast for the unwashed

Day 16: June 28th
Blackwaterfoot to Kilmelford

Arran to kilmelford. 110k. back in scotland proper with overcast skies. flatter than expected. lots of lochs. last nights camp behind a pub - few less midges

Big breakfast provided by our B&B lady Pat. Quite a treat to be well looked after and to not have to pull down a tent! Its a fairly flat, fast road to the north ferry at Adrossan and misty before we catch it. We check out the local castle and eat leftover hot cross buns from yesterday.

Its a low sky day (said Justin, who wanted me to add that), and chilly. We need jackets and polyprop for the crossing which has just four cars and a bunch of other cyclists on it – four very serious lycra clad blokes and two older European cyclists with matching jackets and shoes.

Aside from first big hill, the afternoon's riding is fairly flat, alongside lochs on fairly busy roads. We stop for lunch at the harbour in charming Tarbert where Justin gets chatting to a man and his two children while I pick up supplies at the coop. They wave when they pass us later heading north of the town.

A fast afternoon's cycling but campsites we had marked are no-existent so we end the evening (at a sensible time at least!) outside a pub in Kilmelford where they've kindly agreed to let us pitch for a £10er. Alas there are still midges here, as the Hungarian barmaid warns us but at least we get a comfortable few beers in before calling it a night.

Day 17: June 29th
Kilmelford to Glen Nevis

To the foot of ben nevis. 101k. hillier and busy roads all day. warm afternoon so loch dip after lunch - freezing water, madness! best campsite view yet

Hills caught up with us today. My legs were sore and I struggled until Oban. Weird mix of organic / fairtrade shops and discount / outlet retailers in the town. Good coffee though. Justin tired after morning tea and demanded an early lunch. First place we came to had a view over a loch and overpriced sandwiches but a good respite from the heat.

Swum after lunch in a loch in freezing water near an old couple sitting in deck chairs throwing stones into the water for their dog. They must have though we were mad. It was a very quick swim. Had afternoon tea at a picnic spot just out of Fort William with a good view then hi-tailed it on busy main road (only option unfortunately) to Fort William then to tonight's camp in Glen Nevis.

Its the most stunning campsite we've stayed at yet – the mountain looms in front of our tent in the afternoon sun. We consumed a huge amount of food tonight – a kinda fresh mexican salad / mountain of food and some local beers. Its nice to have showers and shops on site again. We get beer and icecream for dessert and sit on a picnic bench absorbing the view. Wish we could have stayed another night and climbed to the top of Ben Nevis.

Cycling to the top, with stops for cake - Part 3

This is part three of the day by day account of our trip from Lands End to John O'Groats.

Day 9: June 21st

Bishops Castle to Chester

Bishops castle to chester - 114k. climbed down from hilltop camp then steep climb into shropshire hills then grey sky and flat roads! tiny campsite tonight

We're at a tiny campsite at the back of a farm south of Chester. There are three other cyclists here, a father and adult son who have camped under the trees and are finishing a round of beers and a young lad who is dropped off by his family who also has a Thorn. All three have cycle covers which makes me feel a little less ridiculous about lugging our half broken piece of plastic around.

The campsite is really tiny and gorgeous – there are cows sitting just across a simple wire fence, a family with young children in an antique caravan and a little brick facilities block with just one shower and toilet for each gender.

Today we left the expansive Foxhole Castle Campsite, a huge site on a hill with gorgeous views - then climbed another hill, the very steep Stiperstones. Another wild and moody hilltop with wild sheep, but this time hampered by the threat of rain which also obscured the view. Whe the rain became a bit more serious we were further down the ridge. It seemed like a good time to stop for tea and cake and we were warmly welcomed into the Bog Visitor's Centre. The centre sits in an old school house and was run by two volunteers who had a whole kitchen filled with cakes.

A fast afternoon on flat farm roads. Lunch in Ellesmere where there is a food festival divided between opposite ends of the town. We settle outside the Co-op and are joined by a solo cyclists who is doing Lands End in a few less days than us. She's doing it fast and on major roads, she says because the Pyrenees defeated her and she still had some holiday time left. We're impressed.

Three cyclists and all of our stuff attracted a reasonable amount of head-turning and three small children stop to look over our bikes. I tell them that the one they're looking at is mine, and the other black one is my boyfriend's and the most inquisitive one relays the information to the rest of the group. She is determined to unravel what we're doing. “Where are you going?” “North of here – to Chester.” I say. “And then you're going home?” “No, we're going to camp.” “And then you're going home?” “and then we're going further north, to Scotland.” “And then you're going home?” “...in a few days....”

The other question the girls have is slightly less predictable. They spot an old toothbrush through a clear bag on the back of my bike. “Why have you got a toothbrush there?” they point. “Its for cleaning my bike.” They are goaded away gently by parents and I hear the same child saying to the others: “She uses her toothbrush for cleaning her bike,” with a certain amount of awe in her voice.

We find our campsite after a few false turns. I see a guy walking two llamas down the road of this tiny village while Justin is inside asking for directions, and then spot a family we saw cycling the other way half an hour ago. I get directions from the family and we roll into our campsite at 6pm, making a proper stirfry for dinner. Yum!

snack patrol: another day another selection of homemade cakes sold by nice volunteer ladies. today ginger cake and coffee at the bog visitor centre - nice!

Day 10: Jun 22nd
Chester to Ormskirk

Chester to ormskirk: 100k. wildly underestimated todays distance so off mersey ferry and into after school rush hour! warm evening for cycling at least

We misjudged today's distance by at least 40k and due to difficulty of navigating across the wirral we only caught the ferry across the Mersey to Liverpool at 3.30. The morning's cycling was a jumble of industry and forest tracks until the waterfront with windmills in the distance and gorgeous views across the water. Justin and I take turns to be in foul moods – we weren't going to get to Liverpool in time to catch up with some of my old workmates and I took offense to something Justin said early on which coloured the day a bit grimly.

Before the ferry we went off-route to find a bike shop to fix a squeak in my chain and so I could try on helmets. Bike show was on the edge of a big dock area in Birkenhead. Nice shop, not sure I'd recommend hanging out in the surrounding streets.

We had to wait 40 minutes at the ferry terminal before we could go across and then the short distance took a frustratingly long time – great if you want a view of this magnificent city – not so great if its almost 4pm and you're about to hit Liverpool rush hour.
The weather brightened in Liverpool, and apart from Justin scraping his hands when falling off a canal path (second fall of the day for him – served us right for arguing) we made it through the grimy northern suburbs without too many scars.

It was a beautiful early evening for riding once we got back into open countryside but we took a wrong turn somewhere and ended up in Ormskirk rather than the detour that we thought we would take past the town. We stopped to stock up on food and realised that we wouldn't make our scheduled campsite.

We cycled to a nearby park intending to eat dinner in the last of the sunlight, but just as I was pulling out burgers Justin walked over to a family to asked for directions. The father brought one of his children over, just at the point that we were keen to be done cycling for the day and weren't really up for conversation.

While I rudely scoffed my hamburger, Justin held up our end of the conversation and the man explained he wasn't really a local but had moved to the area because his brother had a church nearby a few years ago. He did tell us that he thought there was a caravan park just outside town and gave us accurate directions to it, but he wasn't sure if it would accept campers so we were keen to move on.

After reaching Abbey Road campsite and establishing that there was a camp field and settled in just after 8:30pm.

I was slightly suspicious when I came out of the shower block and spotted the man and his brood of children walking towards me in the late evening light. He said hello and went on to explain that someone had asked the wife (carrying the smallest child) if there was a campsite nearby just yesterday, and they had come to investigate. Odd, but harmless enough. I wished them well but didn't invite them over to our tent. Our day had been long enough.

Day 11: Jun 23rd
Ormskirk to Hawkshead

Ormskirk to hawkshead. 140k and 8hrs! cycling through the friendly north. small boy said hello as cycled past and asked are you exercising? sunshine hurrah!

139k.
Another long day – longest yet, Cycled out of Abbey Farm Caravan Park at 9.45 and had flat country roads for most of the morning, skipping across the M6 (first motorway in the world!) several times.

Morning tea at a proper northern greasy spoon in Leyland where we also posted a couple of maps home. Lunch was grabbed at a supermarket of a farmers shop – like a rural delicatessen – and eaten in a spot by a stream where a bunch of kids and their teacher were hanging out, some even swimming. Justin had spent the morning speeding off and was a bit disgruntled about being told off for going too fast all the time but I was insistent that we should pause, especially in the middle of a hot day when it seemed that everyone else was. Plus the ham was fantastic.

Leaving Preston later in the afternoon, I'm a fair bit behind Justin on a fairly busy road when a small child of about 4 yells over to me from a park which overlooks the street I'm cycling on. “Hello! Are you exercising?” he asked. “Yes, I'm exercising,” I grinned back at him. Later still we ride along the canals out of Lancaster, a wicked way to get north of the city and big stretches of the sea to our left again.

Its getting late as we approach the lake district, 6pm or so but roads are fantastically quiet and the light was pretty special and as we debated how far we should go (alway... “shall we keep on going?” “Yeah, we might as well...”) the hassles of the morning starting to fade away.
We had no idea when the last ferry across to Hawkshead would be and were riding against the clock winding up and down some impressive hills when Justin suggested that we cut across to a more main road which clearly be flatter sitting in the valley we could see below us... although it definitely wasn't and two steep hills almost defeated me.

Fantastic light for riding, views for miles and we made it onto the ferry just after 8pm, and even better we were never asked to pay for the journey (thanks ferry men).

The hill up to Hawkshead isn't as steep as I remember but its a long way to the village. We pull into the first campsite we see in Hawkshead just before 9pm. Its still really light and there are birds everywhere. An eccentric cyclist fixing his bike talks to anyone who will hear him out and himself when no-one else will. He rides away in a tailors shirt and trousers in the morning. Birds everywhere, bird song and ducks wandering around. It doesn't stop all night.
We nip down to a Hawkshead pub after dinner and have last drinks with the locals.

Can't believe we saw so much in one day.

Snack patrol: found a truckers diner in leyland yesterday. served proper mugs of instant coffee and spoke a dialect i couldn't grasp. very cool

Day 12: Jun 24th
Hawkshead to Threlkeld, 42k to camp then 14k unloaded to Keswick for supplies.


Still in the lake district: 40k. meant to be a rest day but headed north looking for a nicer campground. now a few steep hills east of keswick

Today was meant to be a rest day but we decided to make some headway into the lake district hills as it was a beautify and sunny day. Leisurely start to the day with bacon and mushrooms on bread followed by cereal for breakfast.

Meandered up to Ambleside to go to a shop for a promised birthday present. but alas, they were sold out so no yellow inflatable camping pillow for me. Coffee and cake in a cafe by an old watermill we had been to on our last trip to the district. Ginger shortbread from Grasmere – then a slow climb up hills around Thirlmere lake (I hoped we could swim but turns out its a large and precious spring water reservoir).

Camp was on a sheep farm just one big hill out of Keswick. We went down to the township for groceries and got quite lost on the way out, ending up on a busy duel carriageway for a bit, before returning to big horrid hill which most cyclists were walking up. Lazy late afternoon at our campsite, surrounded by hills which turned amber in the dusk.

Laundry done, and BBQ dinner though this was somewhat spoiled by midges which attacked us as soon as the sun faded.

Cycling to the top, with stops for cake - Part 2

This is part two of the day by day account of our trip from Lands End to John O'Groats.

Day 5: Jun 17th
Holmen Clavel to Priddy (Mendip Hills)

to priddy in the mendip hills. 77 k waited out the rain with 90 mins in wells. flat roads of somerset lovely. camping in the clouds tonight.

Ah down hills and flats! Bum complains of injustice today, but the riding is easy – we don't pass a major town all morning and soon finish most of our supplies and two pork pies brought at a village butchers.

Stop for coffee at a silver trailer home cafe, which sits behind a forest park visitors hall due to be completed in 2010. Rain starts and we go inside and chat with the cashier about one of her regulars who is doing LEJOG in a week. Nice rolling countryside through marshes in the afternoon – flat for miles either side of peat ditches and swans floating in canals. There is a little rain, but it doesn't settle in until Wells where we stop for a late lunch anyway. We wait it out for 90 minutes and as it looks like it will clear we climb the short but steep hill past cheesy Wookey Hole and into the Mendips in low cloud (not too bad a climb either) then book in at a campsite. Its then that it starts pouring with rain. Small arguments about sorting out the tent in the rain ensues but the downpour stops before dinner – gourmet style pasta and local bacon and cider and nice changing weather on the hills. Another cyclist is camping beside us and tells us he's done a 16k walk today. We think he's keener than us.

Snack patrol: proper somerset pork pie. can't remember which village butcher we brought it from but eaten outside the church at muchelney.

Day 6: Jun 18th
Priddy to Llanthony via Bristol / Severn Bridge, 122km

Long downhill from Priddy down past Chew Lake, then seems like forever picking through Bristol before the Severn Bridge which is 4 miles with a sharp wind threatening to throw us off– great views but hard cycling. We see a couple of cyclists we'd seen in Launceton and Padstow as we're heading into Chepstow. They stop and chat – and we're not surprised that they're doing the same trip. We're fed and stocked up on food by 3.30 and head into the Welsh hills. Its immediately stunning – lush green, great cycling even though we've a long way to go into the evening, and the hills aren't helping. A lady stands at the end of her drive watching us cycle past her up one of the first hills out of Chepstow – I smile and say we're nearly there, she laughs at me and says there's another hill the same to follow.
It may be slow going but its beautiful out here. We finally arrive in Llanthony at just after 8pm, which means a very long day of cycling. Our campsite is a field with one other tent in it – hills crowd around us and its not raining! £3 per person, bargain. Hopefully full rest day tomorrow.

Wales! 122 k the day before yesterday with 50 done before we crossed the severn bridge into wales. finally at llanthony at 8pm but glorious hills

Day 7: June 19th
Llanthony – Break day

Quiet birthday filled with chores – cleaned bikes, clothes. Treats in the way of cake and beer, pub dinner at the Priory, music. Climbed hill in the afternoon. Wish it was slightly warmer for swimming. Sat in fast changing weather and read and ate.

yesterday: rest day in llanthony. thought we might have campsite to ourselves but it filled up after noon. hill walk in pm but mostly chores and not moving!

Day 8: June 20th
Llanthony to Bishops Castle

llanthony to bishops castle: 94k. over the black mountains to hay on wye is the most stunning route ever cycled. pm back in england farmland again

Early morning bacon sandwiches then a climb out of the valley to the ridge top where sheep are roaming free and it felt incredibly wild and like we had somehow climbed to the top of the world. Stunning views – well worth the climb, and a gorgeous descent – I took it slowly as I wanted it to last forever.

Stopped at Hay-on-Wye for charity cake sale cups of tea and muffins (using first cake vouchers provided by Justin!) The ladies running the tea shop asked how long we had been riding and we had to admit, just a hour or so, and mostly downhill. I felt it wasn't right to leave Hay-on-Wye without spending some time in the bookstores, but we had to barreled out of town and head on our way.

A cloudy afternoon and pedaling into the wind through big industrial farmland, no towns through the greater part of the day. Ate a quick lunch on the edge of a driveway of a farmhouse as nowhere particularly nice to stop.

It took a long time to get to Bishops Castle and its small town civilisation and then it was slightly disheartening that we had to leave immediately to find a campsite. Now we're on the top of a hill with beautiful views of other hills on all sides and at least half a dozen cars with paragliding equipment on top. Had a BBQ with wild boar burgers and sausages. Mist clouded over the hills (one of which we'll climb tomorrow).

Snack patrol: hay on wye charity cakesale - what were we thinking? should have brought a whole teacake instead of two slices.

Cycling to the top, with stops for cake - Part 1

What follows is a day by day account of the 1740 kms Justin and I cycled between Lands End to John O'Groats in three weeks between June and July this summer.
(ps The badly punctuated gray bits at the start and end of each day are from twitter)

Day 1: June 13th
Penzance to St Ives via Lands End

easy 2pm start from penzance then to st ives via lands end today- easy and beautiful 56 k. have been warned about coming days hills!

Our train gets into Penzance at 3pm so we're not sure how far we'll get past Lands End before wanting a campsite today. Our first serious hill is out of the tiny fishing village of Mousehole and reminds us it won't all be flat. Legs shake, breathing gets hard, walkers heckle. In all of our planning from the comfort of our living room, I forgot about the hills.

We get to Lands End smoothly enough – sign visitors book, take photos, talk to an old couple one of which did the ride a long time ago and head on our way. The road between St Just and St Ives is stunning and quiet in the late afternoon. The sea is really vast and we wonder if we're already on the best piece of road of the trip.

We stop for cream tea in Morvah at 5.55pm. The nice man who runs the place is just pulling in his sign as we pass and is one of those who left London in the 80s for this lifestyle. We sit in his quiet garden watching birds and eating fresh scones, instantly envious of the lifestyle (well at least these scones heaped with clotted cream and jam).

We reach St Ives and Ayr Holiday Park at 7.10 and its lucky that the owner of the campsite has come back to the campshop to pick something up so we are able pay and stay. Meet another Thorn bicycle owner – third person we've talked to about the trip today already. Clear skies and a beautiful evening – we walk down to St Ives in cycling shoes and back up via the beaches watching a 10pm sunset. We spot a seal in the harbour. It's an easy first day.

Snack patrol: cream tea at morvah at 6pm - nice man feed us cups of tea and scones even though closing time!

Day 2: June 14th

St Ives to Padstow

87 k - St ives to padstow. found the hills today. some beautiful views of the sea. most friendly campsite last night - tonight we're on a hill!

Good intentions to leave 'early' but by the time we've made a trip up to the Spar for breakfast supplies and started packing up its just past 9, then an inquisitive baby wanders over to try on our helmets (too big) and we talk to its parents for the next half hour or so. We finally roll out of the friendliest campsite in the South West just after 10am.Its a very hilly day interspersed with beautiful views of the coast.

We stop for real coffee at a cafe nestled in the dunes. The cafe's carpark is full of campers who stayed overnight after a gig last night – judging by the number of surfboards, most are here for the waves as well.

Further on in Perrenporth, there are big waves and lots of surfers in the water, but we decide its not warm enough to swim.

We stopped in a tiny village called St Agnes for lunch supplies and with the nearest beach down a big hill we didn't want to climb again, settled for a dusty lane which had its fair share of flies to eat stale bread tomato and salmon sandwiches. Better stop would have been the next town along which was full of shops selling pasties which we were by then too full to try.

Reached Padstow by 5:30pm. Rick Stein's fish and chips eaten on the waterfront under the watchful eye of massive seagulls for dinner. Warnings in the town proper suggest not eating fish and chips outside as the seagulls will steal them. Too knackered to catch up with my workmate Jon who's holidaying in the town, its an early night.

Snack patrol: no cornish pasties today but rick stein fish and chips in padstow for dinner. worth it for the view alone but stellar feed as well

Day 3: June 15th

Padstow to Okehampton

padstow to okehampton - 87 k. rain clouds threatened out of padstow then drenched us for 4 hours. hills again today. wet gear and shoes hung out in bunkroom.

We're ready to leave, almost earlier than yesterday, but by the time we unpack the tent again (bike computer left in it!), purchase coffee and pasties in Padstow, bump into Jon, then miss the ferry... its 11 before we've left Rock behind.

Unfortunately rain clouds catch up with us fairly quickly and from noon we're treated to a four hour downpour which drenches our shoes before we can find shelter to dig Justin's overshoes out of his bag. We were coasting downhill most of the time and I'm sure the morning's riding was spectacular but I couldn't see a thing through the rain pouring onto my glasses.

We climb the giant hill into Launceton needlessly but at the top are bakeries and a bike sized space outside the supermarket where we hang out for a sodden lunch of pasties and hot cups of tea. We head back down the hill seeing two cyclists climbing up in the rain, looking like a mirror of us an hour ago, though maybe better prepared. We make good time to Okehampton on some straight as an arrow roads. Rain is threatening again as we look for a campsite and the near empty campsite at Betty Cottles also has a bunkhouse room for £12.50 a head which we wisely decide is a good way to dry our gear.

Doom Bar beer from Rock on tap in the bar, which we have all to ourselves to plan the next days travel. Bunk house reminds me of remote bunkhouses in middle of New Zealand. Though we screw up lots of Dartmoor hills brochures to fill our shoes with so they can dry, no walkers join us in our room and we hang wet clothes over every inch of space. Early night and sound sleeping!

Snack patrol: cornish pasties from padstow far superior to those from launceston. lukewarm pastie unforgivable when have spent 3 hrs in rain!

Day 4: June 16th

Okehampton to Holman Clavel (Blackhill Downs)

oke to Blackdown hills. 92 k! lost in the hills for 2 hours before stumbling upon campsite. was meant to be an easy day! nice rolling devon.

Too good to be true - ready to go at 8:30! But then as we're putting panniers on bikes an unfortunate bump from Justin's bike topples it over, and we rolled out at 9am, still quite good going, though Justin a bit annoyed that he had scratched my bike up.

Aside from the hill out of Okehampton it was a nice day of meandering around river valleys and quiet country roads, a beautiful sunny day. Stopped at Crediton for lunch supplies then lunch at 1pm at a small village green, complete with babbling brook and someones forgotten sandals. I foolishly said we'd be at the campground at 5pm but then we encountered the Blackdown hills and got sucked into the vortex of small country lanes which ensured we were lost for the next two hours.

We stumbled into the campsite we were aiming for completely by accident and I check its name with disbelief against our master list of campsites. And a flat pitch! Tired legs from a longer than expected day. Must remember to fuel Justin more. Expect my butt will be sore tomorrow but tonight we have a £10 campsite with free showers and nice wee pub just down the road.

Snack patrol: crediton has best bakery of trip to date. chelsea buns for 40p and large pickle and beef rolls for 1.40. yum.

Truck Festival and LEJOG writeup update

I forgot to tell you that we survived our LEJOG cycle trip. And it was damn good fun.
I've been down with a cold (or possibly the flu?) all week since attending Truck music Festival last weekend (I'm not convinced the two aren't related).

Truck was pretty good fun, but one night camping mistakenly in the 'Party camping' area of Truck (read: 16 year olds throwing raw bacon on our friends tents at 4am) wasn't nearly as exciting as our three week cycling and camping trip the length of England and Scotland. The trip report is one edit away from being publishable, so if you're like to live vicariously through us instead of cycling more than 1000 miles yourself you may well be able to do that in the next few days. No promises now.

The 8000 km photo

We've just had our first night in Scotland and are just hitting what I class as 'proper' Scottish scenery on our epic Lands End to John O'Groats bike ride when the next 1000 kilometres roll around. You can see the first hills of the day in the distance. Comic accommodation dramas still to come.

The 7000 km photo

We're in Cornwall, a few days after the beginning of our Lands End to John O'Groat's trip, and just outside Rock which is a short ferry across the bay from Padstow. Its not rainy and there's not a single car on the road.

Sadly the old faithful pink Raleigh has all but died - the last few commutes before this holiday I had to kick the derailleur back into shape and could only ride it in a few gears. Could fix it, or could get a commuting bike that's actually the right size for me.

Before the end of the trip we will roll over a thousand mark one more time...

Last night before Lands End to John O'Groats

Its five minutes to midnight and we're just one last night from our three week trip from Lands End to John O'Groats. I don't think that it is going to sink in until we've been away so long we have to wash clothes.

You're going to have to check the left panel on a regular basis if you'd like to follow my text message updates through twitter. Over on Justin's website his twitter feed will feed nicely into his blog.

I'm trying not to think about the hard work ahead of us - three weeks off work pedaling around the country sounds pretty easy from the comfort of my bed.

Lands End awaits! Roll on tomorrow...

Geographical spread of Philpott's

Met a Philpott today on a social ride with the London Cycle Touring Club. The ride is part of our 'training' for Lands End to John O'Groats, which we really haven't done a lot of. Anyway, people were friendly and seemed happy to chat about our new Thorns and thought that three weeks was a good length of time to do our upcoming trip and still make it feel like a holiday. Beautiful day and nice not to navigate ourselves for a change.

As we started cycling after lunch, a regulart called Richard Philpott cycled past and introduced himself. More interesting than the fact that we're probably not related is he said that according to a London University study into geographic origins of last names, the Philpott's came from Kent, which is where we were cycling.

You can see a pretty cool map illustrating where Philpott's were in 1881 here

Lands End to John O Groats planning session

There are just two weeks until we head down to the bottom of England and then cycle to the top of Scotland, so today we finally sat down and plotted each day's distance and possible campsites to stay at along the way. Still looking a little daunting aside for three easy days through Cornwall at the start and I suspect our 'break' days without cycling are likely to get gobbled up by wrong turns and inaccurate milage estimates.


We headed out on our new bikes last weekend for three days to get used to them and trial out a bunch of camping gear, realising that we can do a huge 135 km if necessary, but it is hard work, and that leather bicycle seats don't wear in immediately.

Last thing to do is figure out how we're going to document the trip - work has suggested daily postcards (to them, of course) and I like the idea of mobile blogging either with laptop or via text messages. If all of that sounds like too much there's always pen and paper...

Running London Marathon

A telling statistic about London Marathon: 36,000 people are at the starting line on race day, and only 500 of those fail to complete it. After dedicating the previous 5 months to fundraising for sick children's charity WellChild as well as training my not very athletic body to run past a comfortable 5 km and then keep pushing it to run further every weekend since December, I was reluctant to let some mysterious uncomfortable pain around my right knee stop me completing the distance.

0 – 12 miles

I'm over the starting line at 10.00 after 15 minutes slowly creeping toward it. I had been looking for the Runners World magazine pacers which I had planned to follow but couldn't spot them. My knee started playing as soon as I start running but I've decided to ignore it as in training runs it seemed to stop complaining after a few miles, even if the pain got worse if I stopped. Anyway, I'm glad I'm at the back of the field.

Its unseasonably warm and there are already supporters lining the roads and hanging out windows of houses around Blackheath. I come to the first gentle downhill and can see thousands and thousands of runners into the distance. I have to hold myself back to get over the first mile mark at 10 minutes.

I'm already missing water stops, but its because I can't see them because of all of the runners around me. Its like a cruel magic trick – I'm concentrating on where I am in this mass of runners and suddenly everyone around me has water bottles in their hands. At the third mile mark this happens again. I start thinking irrationally – what if its like this the whole way around? But then something clicks and I can see the sponsors signage and spot the bottles of water being handed out. I won't dehydrate after all.

I'm running at a fairly steady 10.5 minute mile for the first 5 or 6 mile but when I pause for a toilet break my knee is getting worse, so I slow a little more. People are commenting on the heat. I've barely noticed it but glad I'm wearing a hat.

There is music everywhere including bell ringers and later steel drummers occupying a roundabout where I swear we had an argument with a taxi driver a few years ago. Near Greenwich I pass a guy dressed as a tree and am determined to get to the finish line before him. The support from the spectators is amazing – loads of people have bags of oranges and jelly babies which they're handing out and they're all encouraging – people were shouting well done from the first mile – 'well done for making it to the starting line' I guess.

I've been primed as to where my supporters will be near mile 12 and spot my tall workmate Julie in the crowd along with core support team of Justin, Cat and Andrea without much trouble. I've managed to run the whole way to them and past them, but I don't stop because I'm not sure that I'll be able to start again.

12 – 20 miles

Its still really busy at the half way mark at Tower Bridge. All the runners put their arms up as is tradition since TV cameras started filming from the bridge's suspension pillars. My knee is feeling worse and I'm increasingly worried about it so I find the next St Johns tent and am treated by a young kid who spreads baby oil on it but doesn't reassure me much.
We're in the quieter roads of the docklands and it suddenly feels like the rest of the race is a very long way. I set much smaller goals – if I can run for 30 minutes or 35 or 40 minutes then I can walk for 5. Walking hurts my poor knee more but when I start to run again I have to take baby steps in order to get back into some sort of forward motion. I'm not exhausted from the effort of running its just my knee is refusing to move without complaint. I end up looking at my watch every minute then every half minute willing for time to pass quicker than it is.

Somewhere before 20 miles I hit an emotional wall, the one runners talk about hitting, I guess. I'm long over targeting any specific time but I am overwhelmed with frustration of even getting through the event – I don't even know if I can walk the rest of it at this stage, let alone run another step. I wish that my name wasn't on the the front of my running singlet as people are still yelling sweet supportive things to me, even though I'm in tears and hobbling. I spend some time wondering if I've done permanent damage to something in there.

I see a distance marker ahead which appears to be the 20 mile mark, but as I get closer I see its 30 k. Still 12 k to go and my watch says I've been out for four hours already. The finish line seems very far away.

20 miles to the end

London spectators somehow pick you up and moves you forward. Somewhere after 20 miles someone on the sidelines shouts something which spurs me on (I can't even remember what) and I start running again. I go through one of the shower tunnels and manage to keep on for another mile or so before I'm forced back to a walk. There are others resigned to walking – I take a quick poll and its the knees that have scuppered all of us. I walk / slow jog without any pattern into a part of London I know really well – the edge of the city where I work.
I am walking again when I see a bunch of workmates camped out a the bottom of the street we work on. I manage to break run just as they spot me but my knee still hurts a lot so I can't keep any pace up for long once I'm past them. I force myself to speed walk in some awkward fashion for a while which means at least I am going forward with some momentum even though it's not a pretty sight.

The route follows the river along Embankment and you run towards and then past Big Ben. It is still thick with spectators here and they are urging us walking wounded on. I can see the 25 mile mark and I manage to start running again when I spot the WellChild supporters outside our post race reception with 600 metres to go. They make a lot of noise in my direction and Justin, Cat and Graham have all been watching out for me. Another set of charity supporters in rainbow chant my name as I go past and with only 500 metres to go I know I can make it and start running at a reasonable pace. I pass someone dressed as a lifesaver carrying an inflatable boat around their waist.

At 400 metres I turn a corner and can see the finish line and I start picking up speed and start passing people who are struggling to get to the end. And then I can hear someone over the loudspeakers saying that we'll all have finishing times under six hours despite what the clock says and I've made it and for a moment I'm hyperventilating and can't breathe properly and I'm elated that its over and even with a medal around my neck its a little surreal and I can't quite believe that I got there in the end.

The 6000 km photo

There has been a long winter (mostly of running) since the last 1000 milestone. Exciting bike events in last 1000 kilometres include losing bike computer, breaking bike rack and most excitingly handlebars coming loose from bike during Norfolk Coast ride - luckily when had stopped bike outside a pub where they had the necessary tools to tighten it up again.
(And that explains that wierd feeling that the handlebars were moving out of sync with the road.)

Clocked over 6000 within metres of the house, so another exciting picture of urban London sprawl is to your right.

Two weeks in Goa and Kerala

Trip Report: 22 February to 8 March 2009

From our first taxi ride, into Panjim from Goa airport, our eyes were assaulted by almost every icon of South India you could expect to see – gorgeous sari wearing women carrying loads on their heads, cows wandering down the middle of the road, erratic driving, a festival in full swing on the side of the road, palm trees, mangrove swamps, giant billboards, dust and heat.

It was hot – sweltering the first day, and we had come straight from the tail end of an English winter to the hottest day in Goa for a long time (40 C!). We sheltered in the Portuguese churches in old Goa and sat in the shade in old ruins.

A day later and a hop down the country by plane later, Fort Cochin wasn't much cooler, especially when we got lost in the Jewish quarter for a few hours in the heat of the day. Local markets across the water in Ernakulam were filled with everything you could ever dream of needing and I could have explored the narrow streets for much longer if it wasn't for the cooking class we had signed up for back on Fort Cochin that evening.

After consultation with Mr Walton who runs the immaculate Walton's Homestay (more of a boutique hotel with secondhand bookstore) we decided to head to Kumily by bus, where we had planned to do some walking in Periyar nature reserve. The bus ride is so slow that even rickshaws overtake us but even with mosquitoes biting my ankles consistently it is a beautiful way to slowly creep up the Western Ghats which are full of dark greens and the lighter jagged lines of the tea plantations.

Our preferred guided trek - the overnight Tiger Trail - was fully booked so we opt instead for two day walks. The border walk was with only three other tourists and three guides and I felt privileged to have experienced this beautiful area with such a small group. Shortly after we started walking the guides think there are elephants around and make us wait while they track them. While we wait the bird-life makes itself known. We don't see many animals (though elephant trunks ripping up vegetation! Gaur on the track we were meant to be walking on! Black monkeys!) but the walk itself is fantastic, and our lunch spot by a corner of the lake really special.

Day two at Periyar we take a bamboo raft tour of the lake with some walking added. Our guide is incredibly enthusiastic and takes us off the path whenever he thinks there might be something to see (usually not a lot!) Justin and I and another girl in the group swim in the lake after lunch.
Another hour on the bamboo rafts before the last bit of trekking back to the boat jetty but its in this time that we spot a herd of 20 or 30 Gaur and then finally when we should really head back we spot two elephants which we can only just see without binoculars. They're fantastic.

Fast bus out of the Ghats. The fact that you're reading this means that we made it in one piece, but a pretty hairy ride especially going down the mountains which we crawled up a few days ago. Crowded vehicle with a dozen nuns standing and at least 4 bums to each 2 person seat.

After 6 hours on a local ferry we ended up in hectic, noisy, traffic filled Alleppey, seeing nothing of the village described in our guidebook. The main business here is house boats and while they look amazing we can't see the appeal for us and instead take a canoe tour with a local guide for a few hours, stopping off for Thali at the same time as a boat full of merry Goans. We follow a road a couple of kms down to a beach in the afternoon where I eat deep fried chillies and we watch locals strolling in the late afternoon sun.

A few shorter bus rides today and we're back in Fort Cochin for another night with the Walton's and we finally make it to the Dutch Palace which has a disappointing museum before heading along the waterfront to spend some time observing the inefficient Chinese fishing nets (each scoop of the net catching maximum of one or two fish) and the slightly more efficient net and canoe based local fishing industry. The same evening we have one of our best meals of the trip at Dal Roti where we are told that we've over-ordered and we should have half of what we're looking at on the menu. They're right, and every mouthful is delicious and the place would be worth another meal if only we had time.

We spend a rare lazy morning in coffee shops and looking in shops before we're on an overnight train back up to Goa where we are sharing a carriage with a grandmother who feeds us snacks like we are her kin, sorts out lunch for us and and answers all of our questions about what we've seen so far and tells us about herself. She's got a real sparkle and is fantastic even if overly concerned that we get off at the right stop so is up every time we get up between 4 and 5:30 when our train finally pulls into a station close to Agonda Beach.

We get to the beach when its still dark and its just us, some cows with sharp horns and a pack of beach dogs until sunrise ...and the beach dogs really want to be our friends.

Justin found us a beach hut at Agonda Paradise, beside a quiet restaurant with an uninterrupted view of the sea. The sea was a welcome respite from the heat and with the beach being somewhat of a yoga retreat, there's cereal for breakfast and a French bakery of sorts, plus fresh fish for dinner at a plethora of beach front restaurants. We even find bicycles to hire for a day. It was a great base for a few days but I couldn't have done it for two weeks - though if Justin could have six swims in the sea every day I think he would relocate. Final trip by tiny minivan was to the airport in the early hours of the morning. We pass a lady riding a bicycle before dawn without lights, people walking to church on the side of the road in their Sunday best, and places of worship so full or hot or both that chairs are laid outside in the courtyard. Later we pass the only real slums I saw in the trip. Another world, again. The airport for our return flight is crowded with package holiday tourists. I feel the urge to tell them what they've missed out on.

We managed to cover a lot of ground, moving through environments which swung abruptly between mayhem and tranquility. I think that for me that was the beauty of India.


Want more? Justin has photos, maps and other tales here.

Things that need replacing

With March almost over, there's a lot I should be writing about:

• our fantastic trip to India (Justin has put something up over here)
• the last few weeks of marathon training (please sponsor us by heading over here)
• the slow editing of my novel (didn't sign up for National Novel Editing month here)

Yeah, yeah, all that could be interesting... but at the forefront of my mind? Some things that need replacing:

• Rear Bicycle rack: Noticed the frame had come apart on Sat at the supermarket when putting heaviest shop ever on bicycle. Apparently Blackburn have a lifetime guarentee but I'm wondering if I can hold it together with cable ties until Easter as we want to go up to Norwich with the bike

• Bicycle computer: Lost Saturday evening, somewhere after 5678 kms between Hampstead Heath and a pub on the edge of it. In fact I know my bike had done more than 5700 kms - tantalising close to the next 1000 photo mark. We're bidding on bike computers on e-bay.

• Running shoes: Apparently a marathon's a long way, and when you run a long way your feet expand which explains the blisters on my middle toes, or so says a running shop man I spoke to on Tuesday. Half size bigger shoes here we come.
  

• Coffee grinder: So its Wednesday, and its not that my grinder doesn't work, its just that it doesn't work in an orderly or safe manner. No freshly ground coffee before work? Should I give up? buy ground coffee? or ebay replacement perhaps?

Onward

Whist Aftermath

Graham and I ran our first fundraising event - a Whist Tournament for WellChild - on Sunday at a pretty cool wee pub where Bob Dylan once played up near Goodge St in London.

Lonely Planet and Simon Amstell (the comic) kindly donated some prizes for our raffle and we taught a room full of people how to play Whist then got thoroughly thrashed by most of them! The picture is the very serious final round.

I also learnt that drinking beer after a 90 minute run makes me feel very tired - not sure if I'll manage a celebratory drink after the marathon!

We also raised £150 plus some spare change for WellChild so over 10% towards the big fundraising goal. If you couldn't make it, you can still donate - there's a quick link just on your left.

Taking cupcakes to work tomorrow to promote the cause....

Marathon prep

Went to London Marathon's 'Meet the Experts' seminar on Sunday. Scariest thing I took away from it? Before the marathon, I'll have to do a 3.5 hour run. Ummmm. That in itself sounds like a very long way!

Suffice to say after a week where I struggled to get out of bed let alone run, I went for an hour run as soon as I got home. Still raining and freezing and dark out there.

Trip Report: Six stormy days from Dieppe

Day 0: London to Dieppe (5th September 2008)

Not the Friday evening send off we had hoped for – torrential rain is forecast and we are absolutely soaked before we left London. I spent the train ride down to Newhaven stuffing newspaper stuffing in my only pair of trainers for the trip. With a decently strong storm hitting England and Northern France we considered buying better wet weather gear, or possibly even catching the first train out of Dieppe in the morning to warmer climes, but we were already on our way. Changing at Lewes we were directed to the bike carriage of the train through to Newhaven. We rushed our bikes on board to find four other cyclist crushed in the entrance way with us. “Heading for the ferry?” they asked us – and what else would you be doing with two panniers on the back of your bike on a late and stormy Friday night. “Couldn't resist the weather forecast?”

Despite waiting in the bracing wind for half an hour riding bikes onto a cross channel ferry is pretty good fun – you are climbing into the cavernous mouth of a metal whale of sorts. We'd opted out of the comfort / expense of a private cabin for the five hour journey so were pretty stoked to find an almost empty and quiet cabin where we could recline in chairs get a few precious hours sleep and dry the rest of our stuff.

Day 1: Dieppe to Fecamp (6th September)
kms 83
Ave 13.8
Max 40.5
Hours on bike: 6

Its still pitch black when we jump off the ferry and not much before 5 am. We grab an early coffee at the first open Tabac in town, guessing its the only place open when we spot the weekend cyclists pulling chairs up at the other side of the cafe. There's something alluring (or irrational) about having all the hours of daylight stretched out in front of you so we decide that Plan A of heading down the coast (as we have maps, and campsites plotted out) will be achievable despite storm forecasts and lack of sleep. What Plan B, anyway?
The first couple of hours of riding are glorious. We climbed out of the port town (and apparently there's no way out of Dieppe that doesn't involve climbing) and found ourselves on a high farming plain, with the cliff edge to the sea in the far distance. Dawn rose slowly through an overtired veil of surrealism – it feels like I'm viewing the world through 3D glasses, with a giant hay bales rolling into the distance and the edge of the world within eyesight. Just as I was yelling something to this effect to Justin a flock of pheasants were disturbed on the side of the road and all flew off, except one poor confused bird which kept running just ahead of his tires for a few more metres before finally taking flight.

We spend the day climbing in and out of the coast line, sometimes following bits of the North Sea Cycle route and sometimes staying on higher ground. Most of the seaside resorts we pass are tiny summer-only grounds and with less than fantastic weather the beaches don't look worthy of even a fleeting visit. Ghost-towns, some with a field of caravans parked up but not a lot else.

It rains a bit, but worse, the wind picked up during the day. About 10 km out of Fecamp, I had slowed to a crawl and suggested we take a side road that looked like it would come off the high plain and duck in the backroads past some wind turbines we could see in the distance. Suffice to say, a good place to put wind turbines, not such a great place to cycle with gale force strength headwinds.

We were aiming for Etratat but exhausted, stopped for lunch at Fecamp at about 3pm (6 hours of riding on a handful of pastries) and decided to call it a day. We'd done 80km, 20 more than we'd estimated and there was another 20 km of cycling into a headwind before we would hit our original goal of Etratat.

A dry but windy afternoon and a wet and stormy night. Our tent was pitched on a terrace lawn overlooking the sea so we got a good view of the Jet Ski Grand Prix which was taking place. There were fireworks in the evening but it was too wet for us to open the tent and watch. Not too much of a problem as both exhausted!

Day 2: Fecamp to Etretat (7th September)
kms 27.5
Hrs on bike: 2.15 hrs

Windy and wet day so stayed in the tent at Fecamp to see if it would clear. Tried leaving Fecamp by the coastal route but so windy that I couldn't physically push my bike up the hill. At least I found some humour in that, but not much fun in the wind and rain!

The ride was nice, and short, although a bit hilly. It would have been fantastic if the weather wasn't so bad. Stopped to feed a donkey in a small hamlet and the sun came out and wind dropped.

We were in Etretat by 1pm and as it was still wet, cold and blustery we stopped for crepes and cider before deciding if we would attempt to camp again.

The campsite was an easy km out of town. After the tent was up we cycled back into town to explore the waterfront and the eroding white sandstone cliffs (quite like the needles over the water in the Isle of Wight). Gorgeous views and nice afternoon walk in the wind before more cider, then a restaurant for dinner where we were definitely under dressed and not quite French enough for the nouveau cuisine offered on slabs of slate. The motorcyclists sitting at the next table to us were taking pictures of their food, an old couple at the window were dining with their golden Labrador. It was that kind of place – and we were in polypropylene tops with windswept hair.

Day 3: Etretat to Villieurs / Caudeux en Caux (8th September)
Kms 65
Hours on bike: 3.5 hrs

My bike computer clocked 4000 in the morning. A nice and warm day, with easy country roads with village church spires popping up every few miles. We chance upon a wickedly long downhill just before our lunch stop in a tiny village just of the seine. The tarmac is so smooth and the road just keeps curving down that we're both distracted by the ride and miss the turn off to the local château, where we had planned to stop for a quick look.
Lunch was fantastic (nice apple tart too) and at least had a good view the château. After lunch a few miles of hard slog on the edge of some busy roads near the Seine, but we were cheered on by a group of picnicking French people.
The evening's campsite was just the other side of the road from the Seine, and it is so hot that we're convinced we want to be swimming. Justin's found a cartoon styled map of the area showing a swimming pool up at Caudeux en Caux so our expectations are high and we head into the town with a bag of towels and swimwear only to find at the tourist information bureau that the swimming pool is shut because its no longer summer (hey, its 25 degrees – how is that not summer?). We stock up on food before heading back past the campsite to Villiequers (which had something to do with Victor Hugo with the obligatory Victor Hugo museum). We sit on the side of the Seine and watch the ships going by for a while before realising that directly behind us is a nice bar that seems to be setting up some outdoor tables. They serve a very nice cider but when we see people being led into the garden in their finest dinner gear we decide we're probably out of place and return to the campsite for a camp stove dinner with the Seine in site and the sun going down.

Day 4: Caudeux en Caux to Jumieges (9th September)
Kms: 27 to destination plus 30 more unloaded
Hours on bike: 2 to destination, 2.10 unloaded bike ride

Warm started to the day and we detour to an abbey above Caudeux as it looks like a short day ahead. The ride to Jumieges is really quick so we grabbed sandwiches for lunch down by a car ferry across the Seine before making our way the Campsite of the Forest. Dark clouds roll in and the tent is putting up a fight so we go for an unloaded bike ride around the region for the afternoon. Apple orchards as far as the eye can see and it must be apple picking season as there is a basket at the end of each row of apples and industrious pickers among the trees. We attempt a shortcut back to the campsite on a road which is on the map but somehow end up deep in a forest just as a downpour starts. Maybe shouldn't have ignored the 'trespassing' signs and just as we're backtracking out of it there is almost an incident with some big scary black dogs on the edge of the forest.
Bit drizzly and miserable at the campsite and we are again the only ones not spending the night in camper vans. Not sure what the regulars think of us!

Day 5: Jumieges to Rouen (10th September)
Kms:40.5
Hr: 2.20 to Rouen then 3 hour walk through city.

As had completed a good ride around Jumieges valley yesterday, today we jumped across the river on a little (and free) ferry down off the Route des Fruits at Le Mesnil then ducked south through the steep uphill and awesome downhills of Foret de Mauny before hitting another cure of the Seine. The only other cyclists we saw were struggling up the side we were drifting down and there were barely any cars in sight. Our original plan was to reach Rouen from the South but the road from our late breakfast stop Grand Gouronne was pretty industrial with more than a fair share of trucks and lorries so we river hopped again (small but free ferry again) and tackled the slightly quieter northern route into the city. We followed our noses to the central tourist information bureau, who ensured we had a hotel (cheap, central and with bike storage) within the blink of an eye. Spent the afternoon wandering around the cathedrals and an awesome evening meal in a little Bistro not far from Joan of Arc square.

Day 6: Rouen – Forges Les Eaux (11th September)
Kms: 63.9 (plus 30 mins unloaded around town)
Hours: 4

We found it hard finding our way out of Rouen - we had a few false starts and motorway entrances before, as a compromise we took a hill towards the airport, a bit South West of where we are headed and possibly adding another 12 – 13 kms to the trip. We pretty much lost the early start from our hotel by this point but a breakfast at about 10 was well deserved. Second half of the day is on quiet roads and its nice riding.
The hot pools are not open at Forges Les Eaux and the small town seems pretty dead, dominated by a large casino / hotel complex. The campsite is nice enough despite some persistent rain and this is pretty empty as well. Cheapest campsite to date at only 7 Euros probably due to the lack of nearby attractions or maybe we've hit the off season. I participate in some French based conversations which I don't understand.

Day 7: Forges Les Eaux – Dieppe (12th September 2008)
Kms: 55 (Approx – bike computer was playing up)
Hours on bike 3:45 approx

A slow and easy day following the Avenue Verte back to Dieppe. Translated as 'Green Road' the Avenue Verte is a car free trail running a pretty smooth line down an old railway track with possibly the best tarmac to date and good signposting but not a lot of excitement along the way. Scenery wasn't as spectacular as views from hard earned hill tops anyway. It was easy to pick up at Forges Les Eaux though a bit of a gray and drizzly day for the ride as there is not much to see on the route and it was a bit cold and damp to leave it for long. The biggest surprise of the day was that the cycleway spat us out about 8km from Dieppe and basically onto a busy byway.

The kite festival was on in Dieppe so we easily entertained ourselves for the afternoon watching people play on the fields by the sea, then had a late pizza dinner. Our ferry was scheduled to depart at 6am so we sat on the wharf playing cards and watching people walk their dogs into the early hours. At 4am we cycled the last km to the ferry terminal to check in only to find sleeping bodies lying in the corners of the open ferry terminal which we had decided would probably be shut but hadn't of course checked. The sleeping bags were just stirring when we found out that our ferry would be delayed a few hours. Finally on the boat at about 7am we slept very soundly indeed!.

First run of 2009

... was yesterday morning over a thin carpet of snow which has just one pair of running shoe prints trailing off in front of me. Wish I had taken my camera out with me - a beautiful spend of 25 early morning minutes, though a few more people around on the return of the loop around and through the park. Cold snap in England - its freezing out!

Roll on the marathon training..