France by bike (again) - Day 4

Ongoing archaeology at Petworth House.

I awaken on Tuesday morning, really not feeling in very good shape.  Didn't really overdo the beer, but many parts of me ache, I've got a fairly nasty sunburn, and my digestive system is rebelling against the sausage-based diet I've been existing on for the last few days.  Nonetheless, I drag myself to breakfast - yet more sausage - and then out onto the streets of Portsmouth before 9am.

As I recall, last year the eighty miles or so back to London was something of an epic adventure, a fourteen hour journey involving a great deal of pushing up hills, some ill-advised mountain bike terrain, and borderline physical breakdown both of me and the bike.  This year then, I've amended the route a little, adding an extra couple of miles but avoiding serious climbing until I hit the North Downs.  And, thank heavens, it works, I'm able to pedal on at a reasonable pace all morning and into the afternoon, making regular stops for water, and indeed ice cream.  The new route is quite scenic as well, among other things I pass Petworth House which gives the French Chateaux a run for their money.

Under the M25 - practically in London now.

If I have to climb over the North Downs, then Reigate Hill is not a bad place - there is at least a pavement all the way up alongside the busy A217.  And this time, the roll down the other side is on a minor road, so decent speed and less destructive to the bike - although, the fusillade of clicks now coming from the crankshaft show that the poor old thing has suffered as much as I over the last few days.  I briefly take to a bridleway to duck under the M25, then ride through the last bit of green belt into Greater London.  As last year, from here the route is via a succession of suburbs, all easy enough going - in fact I'm pleased to find I am still pedalling quite strongly.  This time I make it home less than eleven hours after leaving Portsmouth, quite an improvement on last year.

South Norwood Country Park.

Photos to go with this post can be found here.

France by bike (again) - Day 3

Easy going on the old Railway line.

Day three then, and while I'm not exactly raring to go, I do feel better after a decent night's sleep and some breakfast.  I'm a bit worried about missing the boat though, I have fifty miles to do and the ferry departs at 5pm, not really sure what the terrain is going to be like either.  So it is a relief when I find myself on that staple of the UK cycle network, a disused railway line.  Just as at home, it provides a gravel surface and more or less no slope, and even shelter from the sun as I generally have trees on either side.  Very pleasant cycling I must say, I can see why the hotel garage was full of bicycles.

Only fifty-seven kilometres to go!

Nice to see signposts for Cherbourg along the way - and being in kilometres the distance seems to reduce quite quickly.  The other direction is signed for Mont-St-Michel, it doesn't say how far.  As the cycle route is rather less direct than the way I went last year, I am guessing quite a long way.  One problem with following an official route though, I'm not passing through many towns.  At around lunchtime I do at least stumble upon an artisan bakers... here I get an excellent sandwich, a chantilly swan and a can of orangina, all for a mere five euros.

Festival pains eh.  Reminds me of Glastonbury...

The afternoon wears on, and sadly the railway comes to an end, from now on I'm faced with more up and down, and my pace drops alarmingly.  Still, I've made decent time and can afford to slow down a bit... as it turns out I get to within seven miles or so of Cherbourg, and then roll downhill all the way to Tourlaville on the coast, after which it is a flat mile or two to Cherbourg.  After a quick look around I realise that while I can see the ferry, for some reason the entrance to the port area is all the way back in Tourlaville, ho hum.  A bit more pedalling then and I board the boat, time for a beer or three on the way back to England.

This time I have the whole evening to spend in Portsmouth, fortunately my old mate Martin is on hand to direct me to a more salubrious part of town, and indeed the George Hotel where I've booked a room turns out to be a pleasant pub.  Still, I can't make it a late one as I have a full eighty miles to do tomorrow.

The fast boat - Cherbourg to Portsmouth in just three hours.

Photos to go with this post can be found here.

France by bike (again) - Day 2

Back at the Tumulus de Colombiers-sur-Seulles.

I am cruelly awakened at 6am, after too many beers the night before.  Time for a coffee, then I'm off, seventy miles today, and the hangover is not helping.  From Caen I head west, reversing my route of last year.  It is nice to reach Bayeux and feel I can stop to sightsee, where previously I was worrying about missing the boat.

I follow last year's route all morning, stopping at Noron la Poterie for a fine lunch of merguez and potatoes done many ways.  Then at Saint Lo I break new ground, joining an official cycle route, this will take me all the way to Cherbourg.  At first I ride along the river Vire, so flat, good.  Shame it is a British style gravel path.

Cycle route along the river Vire.

Again it is very hot, I am drinking a lot of water, which becomes a problem as France seems to shut on Sunday afternoons.  Fortunately I stumble upon a boules rally in Saint Fromont, they've sold all their water, but somebody has opened a mysterious roadside cabinet with a tap inside.  There is a sign here for my destination, Carentan, which is good as I am tiring.

Sadly it proves to be a long way still.  I think the heat isn't helping, am sure my muscles shouldn't hurt this much.  Seems to be affecting the brain too, at the hotel the receptionist explains the usual stuff, but I just stand there like an idiot.  Carentan is nice though, more great food (All you can eat saucisse sec!  Trou Normande!), and the marina makes a pleasant spot for a beer or two before bed.

Restaurant in Carentan.

Photos to go with this post can be found here.

France by bike (again) - Day 1.

Not quite as wet as last year.

Well, this seemed to go pretty well last year, and I have the bike part of a triathlon next weekend so need to train.  Off to Caen then!  As per last year, I start from Frimley, taking a relatively easy fifty mile route to Portsmouth.

I recall struggling to find a pub for lunch last year, so I do a bit of shopping on my way through Surrey, and eat a pleasant packed lunch in a field.  Of course, this year pubs have re-opened, honestly though I am not feeling it, I am just too hot.

I've eaten lunch in worse places...

And it keeps getting hotter... I read a paper later suggesting temperatures of thirty-three degrees or so, and I am struggling.  My twist-shift gear is too slick with sweat to work, so all I have is the thumb-shift hub gears - all three of them.  Still I make it to Portsmouth, feeling really rather peculiar.

Interesting place.  My ferry goes at 10.45pm so I have most of the evening here... Not sure I fit in what with my lack of tattoos.  Finding a pub doing food proves tricky, eventually I find a rather scary Wetherspoons, with its own dancefloor, beer served in skiffs, and id checks on the door.  They do at least provide me with an enormous hotdog.

Ferry to Caen - sadly no restaurant or entertainment.

Photos to go with this post can be found here.

North Downs Way, Part 3

We three, hiking again.

Back to Kent for another weekend on the Downs then, and once again I've persuaded Stuart and Sarah to keep me company.  Two twenty mile days as well, I hope it doesn't break them too badly.  For once the weather looks like letting me down, the skies are grey and the forecast suggests there will be rain at some point, still it is dry enough when we alight from the train at Borough Green, and head uphill through Wrotham to rejoin the Way.  The morning's walking is familiar enough as we follow the ridge line, mainly through woods, including an extra mile or so when we get confused by one of the numerous broken signposts.  It doesn't help that I'm relying on my phone to navigate, and it picks that very moment to break down.  Still, we make it to our lunch stop at Cuxton just shy of 3pm, and grab some beer and sandwiches at the White Hart.  Only eight miles to go...

Medway crossing.  Shudder.

There is a slight hurdle to cross however, namely the river Medway.  Excitingly the NDW does so via a strip of tarmac alongside the mile long bridge carrying the M2 over the river - not being a massive fan of bridges, this isn't really a highlight for me.  I make it across in one piece, and then it is but a short stroll, never getting to far from the M2 - in fact we cross that motorway three times, in addition to having crossed over the M26 and M20 this morning.  Thrilling stuff.  We spend Saturday night at the rather excellent Bridgewood Manor Hotel, where there is haute cuisine (duck potato!) and a goodly amount of wine.

Some of the many steps.

Sunday morning, and after a short swim, then a large breakfast, we head off, back over the M2 (only time we cross it today though, boo).  Today our route is more or less along the historic Pilgrims Way, along which people used to travel to Canterbury to view various relics of dubious provenance.  Much of the route survives either as a quiet country lane or a rough cart track through the woods... of course as a long distance path the NDW takes a rather more gruelling route, up and down over hills and ravines, the slope is often steep enough to require steps.  While we don't get lost, it is nonetheless a struggle to keep to yesterday's pace, and it is past 3pm by the time we reach the Dirty Habit in Hollingbourne.  Another late lunch then, at least it is a good one, a variety of British tapas washed down with beer.

There is a monk under there somewhere.

The afternoon turns out to be something of a contrast to the ups and downs earlier on, as we keep to the Pilgrims Way, more or less hugging a contour line.  It isn't terribly exciting, but we do get to enjoy the view south across the Kent Downs (and of the M20!).  Somewhat miraculously the weather holds up, we get some occasional sunshine, and not once do I need to put on my waterproof top!  Before long we are heading downhill into Charing, which seems very quiet on a Sunday evening, there is at least a pub where we grab a celebratory pint.  Then off to the station, and a rather lengthy journey back into town - there really are a lot of stations in Kent it seems.

North Downs Way, Part 4 is here.

Photos to go with this post can be found here.

North Downs Way, Part 2

Millenium Stones in Gatton Park.

Another month, another section of the NDW, this time just me doing the walking, never mind, I am used to wandering by myself after all.  Looking at the map, I do wonder somewhat why I planned to finish at Reigate last time - if we'd gone a mile or so further all told we'd have reached Merstham, whose station is pretty much on the Way, and which has a direct train back to London.  As it is I stay on the train as far as Redhill, change there and then on to Reigate, and then have to lump all the way back up Reigate hill... at least there is a nice view from the top.  Then downhill to Merstham again, where I cross the M25 - this motorway will be an ever present companion for the weekend.

The Surrey Countryside... oh, and the M25.

Can't say the walking here is especially thrilling - I'm on a ridge, but mainly walking through woodland, pretty enough with a carpet of bluebells but not exactly an awesome wilderness.  Now and then I get a view south, complete with motorway.  At least it is easy going, and in fact I make short work of the day's fifteen miles.  Lunch at the Harrow is good, the end of the route however is at Clacket Lane service station, where the food looks a bit dubious and overpriced.  Worse yet, stupid licensing laws mean I won't be able to get a drink here, so after checking in to the Days Inn and having a rest for an hour or so, I'm back on the road.  Only a short way though, to the Grasshopper Inn on the A25... odd place, a charming Tudor building and the food is good, service is not so great though and the beer is at best variable.  Fair play to them for building a massive fire for me to watch while drinking a pint or two mind you.

The Grasshopper Inn.

Sunday morning, yet more nice weather, and off I go, up the fairly small hill back to the NDW.  Before very long I'm out of Surrey and into Kent, losing altitude all the way, and indeed I find the Way now runs through fields rather than a strip of common land as previously.  There is still a motorway roaring away to the South though... eventually I cross back over the M25, but looking at the map the Way continues to run alongside the M20, ah well.  I stop for lunch at the rather posh Rose and Crown in Dunton Green, then find myself on a surprisingly urban bit of the route through Otford and its environs.  Seems a nice place though, looks like a good spot for a pub crawl... also I seem to have come on the day of the village fete.  No time to tarry however, so, one last rather steep climb up Otford Mount.  From here it is a gentle downhill to Wrotham (pronounced 'Rootum' apparently), where I find another Rose and Crown and grab a quick pint.  And, back on the train to London - two weekends down, three to go!

Photos to go with this post can be found here.

North Downs Way, Part 1

Spring has finally arrived in the UK, so I can get out into the countryside without having to wear my thermal underwear.  Last year the South Downs Way went well, so an obvious plan for this year is to do the North Downs in the same fashion - in fact that was my original idea last time, but the only hotel I could see working for the first weekend seemed to be booked out for the whole year.  Much like its neighbour to the south, this is a long distance path running for a hundred miles or so along the ridges of Surrey and Kent, specifically from Farnham to Dover.  Again there are alternate routes towards the end, either via Wye and Folkestone, or via Canterbury.  I reckon I can complete the thing over five weekends.

Starting out in Farnham.

As with the last weekend of the SDW, I have got Sarah and Stuart along for company, so three of us set off from Farnham station.  I can't say it's the most memorable of walks to begin with, we walk through woods, past golf courses, and in ditches that I suspect are ancient earthworks.  There is a ridge, the Hogs Back, but we're not on it - the A31 not being an ideal walking route.  Still, we get some excellent ploughman's lunches at the Good Intent in Puttenham, and then pass some points of interest.  Firstly, I drag the others up a hill to look at the ruined St. Catherine's Chapel, scrambling down a steep, sandy slope on the other side reveals why this is not the official route.  Then up another hill, this time on the Way, we pass St. Martha's, a church only accessible via a mile or so of dirt track, and amusingly find a wedding party toiling down it.  Before long - only fifteen miles today in deference to my companions - we reach our stop for the night, the Manor House Hotel.  Very nice too, we have a bit of a swim and try out the jacuzzi before dinner and several beers.  There's a wedding party here too, not the same one.  Hope they didn't mind me patronising their bar too much - I did pay!

Reminiscent of Portugal, apparently.

Sunday brings more clear skies, I do wonder if the tourist board or some such should pay me to walk the downs, always seems to be nice when I do so.  An interesting route today too... for most of the morning we walk on the south side of a ridge, wooded but often with views towards the Surrey Hills, and eventually towards the South Downs too.  At regular intervals we pass pillboxes, built in the early days of World War Two when a German invasion seemed imminent, and still in good condition.  For lunch, we descend into the Mole Valley and head to the Stepping Stones Inn for beer and sandwiches, then cross the Mole via the stepping stones in question.  Then it is the first big climb of the Way, Box Hill, hardly a mountain but certainly steep.  It is mainly steps cut into the hillside so really not that hard, and before long we reach the top, with its car park and many people enjoying the first sunny weekend of the year

Pillboxes on Box Hill.

The way continues along another ridge, yesterday's sand - prehistoric beaches I assume - giving way to familiar chalk.  Slowly we make our way downhill, but there is a sting in the tail, before we reach our destination, Reigate, we must climb Reigate Hill.  But again it isn't too bad, and once at the top we get an interesting folly to look at, then something I had no idea was there, Reigate Fort, part of the London Defences built in the 1890s due to concerns over a possible French invasion - funny to think the Entente Cordiale was signed just a decade or so later.  From here we clamber down the hill in time for a beer or two before getting the train back - just about, Reigate Station apparently being designed, much like the fort, to keep people out.

Donated to the people of Reigate by Sir Robert William Inglis.

Photos to go with this post can be found here.