France, at last!

Mas de Flory, Degagnac, France

Well, I've been yearning to visit France for a long time, I'm finally here and it doesn't disappoint.
I have just eaten the perfect lunch, fresh bread, delicious cheeses, balsamic dressed tomato, sun ripened peaches and strawberries. Nothing exotic I hear you say but wow, the textures and flavours were outstanding. Brie, au point, melting like butter on the palate, full of flavour but not overpowering; a local hard cheese, Florian, also full of flavour but sharper and contrasting in texture. The tomato tasted as thought it had just been plucked from the vine, sweet and succulent. The peach was one of the doughnut variety, I have only seen these for the first time this year, beautifully tender, juicy and full of flavour. The doughnut shape makes the fruit very easy to eat, its flattened profile enabling one to bite without ending up with juice everywhere, the flesh surrounds a tiny stone in the centre, much easier to manage than the conventional spherical fruit. The strawberries were amongst the most flavourful I can recall. I could not have imagined a better lunch on a hot and drowsy summer's day.
I arrived here yesterday afternoon having flown from Leeds to Bergerac. My hosts met me at the airport and apologised for the fact that they had planned a visit to the local sport superstore on the way home. It is just as well that I have no space to carry anything more as there was plenty of temptation to purchase 'stuff'. It was a great store, whole sections dedicated to various sports and outdoor activities. The horsey bit was especially tempting, I nearly bought Lucy some jodphurs. The cycling bit was not quite as attractive, not much in the ladies section at all, just as well.
The next stop along the way was for lunch. I cannot recall the name of the village, but if you look at the photos I have put on picasa the ones with the bunting are the lunch venue. We had lunch in a little local restaurant sitting outside under a big umbrella. The lunch was nice but we all agreed not outstanding. The most amusing bit was the arrival of the local pompiers for their midday meal, too bad if there is a fire at lunchtime. They greeted everyone in the restaurant, including us and sat at what was obviously their table; they are very much a part of every small French town and are greeted enthusiastically by everyone they meet. 
Having consumed a generous lunch we set off for home. The drive took us through beautiful rural scenery with rolling hills and valleys, pretty villages decked with colourful flowers,past fields of fat glossy cattle switching their tails  lazily in the afternoon heat, mares with foals dozing beside their mothers. High above the road imposing chateaux made statements about times long gone, what stories could they tell? The road ran for some distance alongside the Canal du Midi and the Dordogne river. The canal looks little used but the river is huge and is obviously enjoyed by many as a leisure facility.
We arrived at Mas de Flory in the late afternoon. I was shown my room in the barn, converted by John and Aileen to accommodate their guests. It has been really sympathetically  done with five bedrooms each with a very nice bathroom; shared eating and relaxing space on two levels and a wooden deck overlooking the the fields and forest to the rear, the only sounds are the birds.
I unpacked then went for a stroll around the immediate vicinity. There are lots of tracks and paths to explore, I thought of Andrew and his mountain bike, it would be a brilliant place to mountain bike. I anticipate it being a brilliant place to tour too.
In the evening we went to the local town of Gourdon, they were celebrating their local fete. The town is ancient and centres around a small hill topped by a bastion and of course the church. The views from the top were spectacular, 360 degrees in the evening sunlight, viewed with a audio backdrop of Swifts screeching and swooping low to catch the evening harvest of flying insects. The main street was given over to the amusements, rides, shooting galleries and food stalls that make up this sort of event almost anywhere. The atmosphere was buzzing and we enjoyed a drink in a cafe watching the world go by. To assuage our hunger (not huge after a good lunch) we had brochettes, I chose beef, meltingly tender, very yummy. It was a an excellent evening of rural French entertainment enjoyed at a very acceptable 25 or so degrees. Why have I left it so long to revisit France?

Sunday dawned with the promise of some serious 'chaleur', forecast in the upper 30's. The agenda for the day started with breakfast, followed by a visit to a local market, lunch and sorting out my bike.
I am the only full holiday guest staying at the moment, there is a couple doing B&B, he is French, she is Russian, draw your own conclusions! There is also an Australian family who have just bought a house nearby to renovate and are staying here until their house is habitable. They only spent three weeks in France before selling up in Australia and deciding to come here. I can understand why.
Breakfast was delicious, just what I like, fresh fruit, yoghurt, juice, fresh bread and a choice of home made preserves, fig, raspberry and cherry. This with excellent coffee made a good start to the day. I need to get cycling if this regime is to continue. This afternoon we fit the bike, tomorrow we ride., cannot wait.
Item two on the agenda was the market. We drove for about a quarter of an hour to another small town nearby (cannot remember the name). The market was everything I think a market should be, compact,  not too rambling and filled with sights and smalls to delight the senses. Wonderful local produce, veg, fruit, cheeses, olives, sausages, honey, roast chicken, paella, freshly gathered mushrooms, colourful plants and flowers, jewellery, clothes, books, pottery, kitchen ware, tools, the temptations were huge but I have no space to carry anything more. The expedition was rounded off with a coffee stop in a local cafe, altogether a great outing. Photos to follow.

Disjointed jottings

Fakenham  to Norwich 

The route from Fakenham south east towards Norwich passes through pleasant undulating farmlands until it reaches Reepham where it joins the off road Marriott's Way. This is another old railway track, named after the engineer who built it. It runs for about ten miles and delivers one right into Norwich. The track is not metalled but provided a really smooth and secure cycling surface, an opportunity to up the pace a bit unimpeded by potholes, loose gravel and cars, all of which feature on a daily basis.
I arrived in Norwich in time to find somewhere to stay and to have a look around the centre of the town. I enjoyed the market  place and the old narrow streets surrounding it and was impressed by the Castle towering over the town centre. I didn't hunt down the Cathedral or other historic buildings as my hard pedalling legs did not want to walk any further.
The journey for Wednesday was planned to Beccles,  a small Georgian market town. I managed to loose the route as I left Norwich and rode off piste for a few miles before I found it again. During my ride I encountered one of the Sustrans Rangers, responsible for maintaining the signage on the cycle routes I have been using. He invited me in for tea and biscuits, leant me a map and put a bit of extra air in my tyres, he and his wife were really charming. The route followed the River Yare for most of the way, passing some beautiful riverside homes along the way. As the route turned  away from the river I was faced with one of the steepest hills I have seen in miles, I had to get off and push.
The route changed rivers to the Waveney and I cruised into Beccles via the quay. I was quite peckish so paid a visit to the cafe next to the harbour and had a very nice chicken sandwich whilst sitting in the sun, very pleasant. The next task was to find somewhere to sleep. Tourist info provided a couple of alternatives, there aren't many to choose from in Beccles, and I found a room in a really lovely old Georgian town house right in the town. 
The next destination was Woodbridge and, apart from cycling in a large circle around Halesworth en route and adding a few unnecessary miles, I had a good ride. I found a place to stay in the old converted Railway Station, offloaded my bike and had a walk about. Woodbridge is quaint, it has lots of really old timber framed buildings and narrow streets. It has a large river harbour and an apparently active sailing community. I discovered that the town has a museum devoted to the Suffolk Punch heavy horse, sadly it has limited opening hours and I missed them.
When I set out from York to have a look at the East of England I had planned to cycle to Harwich, on reflection I wondered why, I was not planning a ferry trip and I don't think that Harwich is particularly special in other respects. 
There is a cycle route that goes west from Felixstowe to Newmarket and I decided to pick it up at Ipswich and head for Newmarket.
Stowmarket provided the first stop, quite early as it was raining, much to the locals' joy as the countryside is very dry. Stowmarket is home to the Museum of East Anglian Life and apparently has Suffolk Punch horses. I decided to delay my departure in the morning and have a look at the museum. The museum was good, I got a discount for arriving by bicycle, and for being over sixty! I enjoyed wandering around for about an hour and a half and took lots of photos, some of which I will put on picasa. I was disappointed that the Suffolk Punch I had hoped to see had his head down in a distant paddock and all I really managed to get a view of was a large chestnut rump in the distance. Rather oddly the local funeral director in the High Street had a wonderful display of photos of Suffolks so I took pictures of that! It was much nicer than plastic flowers and a granite headstone.
Having taken in the cultural side of Stowmarket I set off for Bury St Edmunds, not an ambitious goal. A pleasant ride through quiet Suffolk lanes took me via the village of Tostock, a pub was marked on the cycle map and I decided to stop for lunch. I ordered a Ploughman's lunch, wow, it was huge, it comprised fantastic Stilton and Cheddar, pate and wonderful ham with two warm fresh rolls and salad. Just as well I had not planned to go a lot further today, sleeping under a hedge in the afternoon sun seemed like an attractive option but I resisted and pedalled on to Bury.

Bits & pieces add up.

Lincoln to Boston and onward.

I have not written for a couple of days and realise that I hardly know what day it is.
I originally thought that I would not write about this section as it was not particularly interesting,  but on reflexion perhaps the little things would add up to something.
The ride from Lincoln started with a steep descent down the narrow cobbled streets of the old city, a sharp left at the bottom took me along the banks of the River Witham. The route picks up an old railway line that runs on a strip of land between the river and a canal, this is called 'The Water Rail Way'. I think this is rather clever as it combines all the elements of the route, apparently Water Rails are sometimes seen along the waterways. There are some great sculptures along the way, there are photos of some of them on Picasa. An old railway station on the route at Bardney has been turned into a tea room, it has been really well done, old signs, contemporary furniture, old metal advertising signs and excellent tea and scones. They have also got B&B in two converted railway wagons.
As the day progressed the wind increased and the latter part of the day was hard work riding over flat and not very interesting fen land. The most interesting things in the area are the place names, Anton's Gowt, Dogdyke, Fishtoft, a few of the more outlandish ones.  I decided to stop for the day in Boston, the town has little to remark upon except the rather ugly church tower, it can be seen for miles and is known as 'The Stump'. There is a shortage of B&B's here so I checked into the local hotel, a nice contrast to the tatty establishment in Lincoln.
To the south of Boston the flat fens continue and the route crosses Fosdyke Bridge in the north corner of The Wash. On the weather front wind was again the order of the day, I was getting a bit bored with flat landscapes and riding into the wind mile after mile. Wisbech seemed as though it might provide a suitable haven for the night so even though it was only mid afternoon I decided to stop. In days gone by Wisbech was famous for its Horse Fair; the centre of the town, where the fair was once held, has been replaced by a truly awful downmarket shopping centre with a huge picture of a horse on the pavement in its centre, sad, really sad. As I walked through the town it was also apparent that most of the people in the street were Polish, labour for the huge acreages of food crops grown in the area. 
I set off from Marmion House, sounds much grander than it was, towards Kings Lynn. Surprisingly it was windy again, did I really have to pedal so ineffectively all day? I hoped that Kings Lynn would be worth a visit and might even be a place to stop for the day  if the wind persisted. In spite of the wind I made reasonable progress, the route enters Kings Lynn along the banks of the Ouse and delivers one into the centre of this ancient port. There are some beautiful old buildings and I found a nice spot on the quay to have a baguette and a drink. The wind seemed to have abated and I decided to continue on my way.
South of Kings Lynn the terrain changed, small hills, hooray, some relief from the boredom of the last couple of days. I never thought I would be pleased to see a hill.
The cycle route was on quiet country lanes and passed through some very pretty villages. I especially liked Castle Rising. 
The next place on the map was Sandringham, I was quite excited by the prospect of cycling past the Queen's front door. The house can only be glimpsed from the road but the estate is immaculately kept, the verges are mown, the hedges, fences and gates are in perfect order, it all looks really loved and as though it belongs to someone with pots of money.
I was enjoying the more varied countryside but thought I'd better look for a place to stay for the night. I turned down the hill away from the signed route to see if Dersingham could provide. Not only did it provide, it turned up trumps with one of the nicest B&B's I have stayed in. The breakfast was amazing, eggs Benedict!
The day started cool but, dry; this did not last for long. I was rapidly getting cold as well as wet and had stopped in the shelter of a large Chestnut tree in the car park of a pub called 'The Gin Trap', an unusual and possibly unique pub name. It may have been wet, but it was neither flat nor windy and I enjoyed riding through the Norfolk countryside.
The first place of any note was Burnham Market, a very pretty Georgian market town. I was quite peckish and fancied a hot drink so one of the local tea rooms beckoned, a well worth while stop, a nice frothy latte and a big piece of coffee and walnut sponge. Fuelled up I pedalled on to another Burnham. This one is Burnham Thorpe where Horatio Nelson was born in the  parsonage in 1758.
The rain could not tarnish my enjoyment. The countryside looked lovely, lots of wild flowers and pretty cottage gardens, the scents were a bonus too, honeysuckle in the hedgerows and roses in the gardens.
The next part of the route was a totally unexpected bonus, the signs indicated a sharp left through huge cast iron gates, the entrance to Holkham Hall (http://www.holkham.co.uk/). I opened the pedestrian gate, pushed my bike through and stood all alone at the end of the most dramatic drive, it was dead straight and I guess about a mile and a half long rising gently to an obelisk on the crest of a gentle hill. The avenue was lined by what looked like huge trees, they were in fact small groups of trees grown together looking like very large specimen trees. The feeling of cycling alone down this glorious driveway was extraordinary but I was quite unprepared for the sight that met me as I cycled around the obelisk over the crest of the hill; there below was the magnificent Holkam Hall, settled in manicured and landscaped parkland, a lake full of wild fowl, deer and sheep. Do have a look at the website, it shows you the house and parkland on the front page. My ride took me from the way off to the right of this picture on the road that sweeps around in front of the house. I have just looked at Google Earth and the drive and obelisk are clearly visible.
The route carried on through the estate in the dunes behind the beach, this includes large areas of wetland where I saw an Avocet, can it get any better? This bit of the track was quite tricky, bumpy with soft patches of sand, I needed to concentrate hard to stay on my bike.
Lunchtime already,  I stopped at Wells next the Sea for a sandwich. This is a pretty old port, there are still lots of leisure craft here but I suspect that the main income of the town is now tourism.
The rain finally cleared and I pedalled on to Fakenham to find a place to sleep.

My Half Century

From Selby south and across the Humber

Well, the weather forecast was wrong, it turned out to be a glorious day, perfect for cycling; sun, blue skies and and almost no wind. I set off after breakfast with a big smile on my face hoping that my proposed fifty odd miles would be achievable, this was my longest planned ride so far. The geography was on my side, for the most part this bit of England is flat, the latter part of the ride has hills but nothing like I have previously encountered. 
The place I had chosen to spend the night was to the south of Selby and on the wrong side of the river, this meant I had to backtrack a bit to find a bridge. I cycled down Brown Cow Lane passing quite a few morning dog walkers, there seem to be an unusually large number of Greyhounds in this area. I suppose it may be a legacy from the days when coursing was still PC and the Waterloo Cup was run in Lincolnshire.
I easily found the cycle track which was a concrete surfaced farm track beside the River Ouse, the route follows the river deviating from time to time to return to the very quiet road, it passed through some pretty villages on the way, most too small to support a village shop or pub; the houses in the area are red brick, no stone here. The brick is mellow and weather worn, I love it.
Somewhere after about five miles I must have missed a signpost for the cycle route, it was somewhere in a field, I still haven't quite worked out where. The first give away was the self closing stile, I thought it was a bit odd for a cycle route? There is a photo of it  in the picasa album of this stage. To get through it I had to take off the panniers and lift the bike over the bottom ledge. The track appeared to run along the top of a dyke, which would be OK but it was very rough and rutted, and pitted with mole hills, fine if you are on a bare mountain bike, not so fine on a heavily loaded touring bike. On reaching the end of the dyke my thoughts about this being the wrong route were confirmed, another of those silly stiles and a big flight of steps up to the road! I unloaded the bike again and carried it up the stairs. I then consulted the map and returned to the cycle route by the shortest way possible, I don't think it actually cost me much time, I might have missed a pub, but no harm done.
I was by still well on schedule to achieve my fifty or so miles for the day. The ride progressed through the flat arable farmlands of south Yorkshire, acres of oil seed rape, potatoes, beans, beet, flax and grains. I was quite surprised to see lots of big irrigators, hasn't it rained enough? The railway line makes use of these flat lands a adjacent to the river and I cycled across numerous level crossings, they have improved the crossings for cyclists, they are really smooth  and bike friendly. I also crossed a bridge over the busy M62, a reminder of how much nicer it is to be in the back lanes rather than the motorway lanes. One more crossing, a lovely old lock at Weighton, serving the Market Weighton Canal. When it was built I imagine it was in regular use carrying produce from the town to the river and on to the port at Hull, it now looks functional but not as though it is regularly used.
Getting closer to Hull the geography was changing, there were hills appearing, the edge of the Yorkshire Wolds, this would slow me down a bit. One hill in particular did, I took another wrong turn, up a very pretty track through deciduous woodland. It was steep, I carried on to the top, having to get off and push only to reach the top to confirm my fears, wrong way. I enjoyed the ride back down and managed to find the right turning.  Onward towards Hull and the villages appear to be more affluent, big German cars, beautifully manicured gardens, huge houses and glamourously attired ladies of leisure. I guess these are the dormitories for the successful businessmen of Hull.
The Humber Bridge (opened in 1981) in now in sight, it is huge. It is also very high and I have to get up there somehow. The map makes it look as though it should be fairly straightforward. I managed to miss another sign and only rediscoverded my way with the help of a very nice young (they are all young now) policeman on a mountain bike; they are sometimes around when you need them. On arrival at the start of the bridge cycle path there are two alternative routes, which one to choose, no clues, except one appears to have a no cycling sign! I consult a passing cyclist who says they both end up in the same spot on the other side but the way he was going was the less windy, as good a reason as any to follow him. The no cycling sign applied to the road, not the path by the way, silly me.
The remainder of the trip was unremarkable, only about five miles, a bit of a climb with a nice downhill into Barnetby le Wold to find my bed for the night.
I had managed 55 miles in just over six hours, I was pleased with the day but resolved to do a shorter ride tomorrow.

Where have all the hills gone?

New phase, York to Selby

Today I set out on a completely new stage of my trip. Having been a bit unlucky with the weather in Scotland I thought I would go as far away as is possible on this small island, so I'm almost in East Anglia.

I decided that taking a train from Leeds to York would be a good way to get the high density traffic around Leeds out of the way and the National Cycle Network route passes through York and can be picked up close to the station. I used the coffee and muffin combination to fuel up and then put on my waterproofs, umm, it's raining again and set off. I'm hoping that as the week progresses the weather will improve, tomorrow does not look great at the moment.

The cycle path runs along beside the River Ouse in York, it is very pretty, lovely old buildings, lots of river boats, people rowing and to add to the interest the local Hash Harriers running all over the place looking very intense and a bit damp. There were lots of family groups out, seemingly enjoying a walk inspite of the rain and lots of dogs just relishing being out and about.

The next bit of the track ran alongside and then right across York Racecourse, there was no racing today but the track was being made good use of by runners and more dogs. There is something about a racecourse that I find really exciting, I can always picture galloping horses, brightly clad jockeys, hear the thundering hooves and smell the unique horse smell, it gives me goosebumps, silly I know, but I cannot help it.

There was a short and rather uninteresting section of track alongside the busy main road before the route joined an old railway line. This section of the cycleway was apparently bought by Sustrans in 1987 for £1.00, it is great to ride on, the surface is tarred and for the most part well maintained. It is signed every mile and has some interesting seats and shelters along the way. I'm sorry I have no photos, it was just too wet. It goes through mainly arable farm land, all very green at the moment. There are quite a number of small waterways, one was being well used by a chocolate Labrador who was loving the rather muddy water and paying no attention whatever to his slightly irate owner who thought it was time to go home, I wonder if they are still there?

As I pedalled my way along the track I noticed various models of planets and realised that most of the Solar System seemed to be there, along with signs stating distances to various heavenly bodies. I eventually managed to find out what it was, this link explains it http://www.solar.york.ac.uk/. If I pass this way again in sunshine I will have a better look.

I was making quite good time and was in danger of arriving at my B&B destination too early so decided to stop in Selby to find a bite to eat. As I neared the town centre there was a lone male cyclist stopped on the pavement, I asked him if he was local and could recommend somewhere to eat. He apparently used to live in the area but just happened to be there today as part of his training to ride from Lands End to John O 'Groats with some old university friends, celebrating twenty years on from their graduation. As we were about to go our separate ways he glanced down at my bike and commented on the fact that my back tyre was almost flat. What pain, it was raining, the bike was filthy and I really did not feel like fixing a puncture. What to do, I walked down the High Street and found a sort of bike shop that was open even though it was a holiday. The guys in the shop were very nice but I could see that they were less than enthusiastic about fixing my bike. They pumped it up for me and suggested it might just be the valve, I was not convinced. I went off to find some lunch, on returning to my bike the tyre was flat again, so much for the valve theory! I pleaded helplessness and produced a result, if I bought a tube the manager was happy for me to pay one of his tyre bay employees to fix it, job done. I am still slightly unsure of why it went down, I took the old tube and inflated it in their water tank, I found a hole, seemingly in the wall, a pinch maybe, but why now after having ridden quite a long way? I just hope it is still inflated in the morning, if not I will just have to do it myself.

Time was now progressing and I could safely continue to my B&B without being embarrassingly early. The route south of Selby runs for a little way along a canal, I have no clue which one though. I was merrily pedalling along splashing through puddles admiring the beautiful traditional narrow boats when the name of one seemed familiar, 'Phyllis May ll'. Of course it was Terry and Monica Darling's boat. Terry wrote Narrow Dog to Carcassonne, an amusing account of their travels across the Chanel inn their narrow boat with their narrow dog, a Whippet called Jim. He followed this up with Narrow Dog to Indian River and apparently a trip to Wigan Pier is on the horizon. I had to stop, I spent a moment or two having a shouted conversation with the Darlington's then continued on my way.

My ride for today, about twenty five miles was almost over, it may have been wet but it wasn't windy and I really enjoyed it.

The B&B is very nice and they provide supper, which is good as there do not appear to be many alternatives close by.

I have planned a longer day tomorrow, I just hope it is not too ambitious, especially as thunder storms are forecast. Watch this space.

Remote beauty

Journey to Mallaig

Tuesday morning was bright and blustery but the gale blowing for the last twenty four hours had calmed considerably. I left the haven of the hotel hopeful that the ferry would leave Brodick for Ardrossan and the train to Glasgow. I was not disappointed, the ferry left on time with a few words of warning from the Captain that there was a possibility that berthing in Ardrossan could still be a problem. We were delivered safely back to the mainland and I rode my bike off the ferry and onto the rail platform to board the waiting train. The train journey to Glasgow is not very special but I was looking forward to the next stage; I had booked myself and my bike on the legendary West Highland Line from Glasgow to Mallaig via Fort William, this single track journey is arguably the most scenic train ride in the British Isles.

The railway leaves Glasgow along the banks of the Clyde, passing Greenock (Billy Connolly country); Glencoe, site of the massacre of the MacDonald clan in 1692; Ben Nevis, the highest mountain in the UK at 1344 metres and still covered in snow in May. A large stretch of the line passes through country that is completely inaccessible by road.

Many of the stops in the remoter areas serve as hostels as well as being railway stations, they are all painted white with green windows and doors and the walls are clad with something that gives the effect of small curved tiles, almost like fish scales. Every stop seemed to have hordes of Goretex clad walkers waiting to board the train to bag their next Munro.

The scenery along the route is beautiful, wild and dramatic. Mountains, lochs, rivers and streams and a lot of wildlife as well as sheep and cattle. It was quite tricky to get many photos from the train for various reasons, rain, dirty windows, trees adjacent to the track blocking the view and on a few occasions the speed of the train. The latter excuse was infrequent and only on the downhill sections, the gradients up and down were quite marked in some places.

The train leaves Glasgow composed of six carriages, two are taken off to divert to Oban, two further carriages get left at Fort William and two carriages then continue from Fort Willaim to Mallaig. I think that the reason only two carriages go to Mallaig is that the gradient is too steep for the train to pull more, it is the only time I can remember really having the sensation of climbing a steep hill in a train. The train terminates at Mallaig, it is a ferry port for Skye and lots of other small islands and a destination for walkers. I unhooked my bike from the rack, attached the panniers and cycled off around to the east side of the harbour to find my B&B.

I had decided to spend three nights in Mallaig so I would be able to have a good look around. I decided that my first excursion would be to take a ferry to Knoydart. Knoydart is a remote peninsular inaccessible by road and the tiny hamlet of Inverie boasts the remotest pub on mainland Britain. It sits on the northern shore of Loch Nevis and has a population of about 100 adults. The ferry drops you off in the morning and returns to collect you at 3:00pm for a short cruise up the Loch and then back to Mallaig. The hamlet has a Post Office, a pub and a small tea room. The weather was wet and cold so I decided that before setting out for a walk I would sample the tea room, hot chocolate and freshly baked carrot cake supplied the necessary calories and thus fortified I set out to explore, nothing radical as I was not equipped to conquer the great outdoors.

I walked east beside the loch, the road was through beautiful deciduous woodland, lots of moss and stones and obviously carefully managed. The Knoydart Foundation exists to preserve the unique character of this largely untouched landscape. Most of the dwellings are traditional cottages, some now holiday let's and some very much lived in. One aspect of local life would appear to have changed, the church is no longer in use as a place of worship but is now a dwelling. The foundation has a bunkhouse situated in an old farmhouse, a popular spot for walkers and others who come to savour this remote spot. I walked on to 'Long Beach' where there is a campsite, in the summer sun it must be idyllic, a grass roofed wooden shelter, a fire pit, running water and some wooden benches and tables surrounded by hills and silence, if you don't count the lazy waves slopping on the shore. The shells and other jetsam on the beach after the gales were colourful and varied, the blue of the many mussels adding a cheerful touch.

The rain was getting heavier and I was getting hungrier so it seemed as though retracing my steps to the pub for some lunch might be a good idea.

The pub 'The Old Forge' was an appealing refuge. Situated on the edge of the Loch with an unimpeded view of the pier the pub seems central to local life. It is obviously patronised by all types, locals, walkers, yachtsmen, holiday cottage residents and anyone else in need of shelter and refreshment. It would appear to offer live music too, guitars and bodhran's lay waiting to be played.

I picked a table with a good view of the Loch and had some really great tomato and basil soup with crusty bread, I followed it up with toffee pudding, working on the theory that if I had a decent lunch then I would not really need to worry about supper, hmmm. Having enjoyed lunch there was not much time to explore more before the ferry returned to collect us. Once aboard the warm dry Ferry we were taken up the loch, the idea being to see the view and possibly some wildlife, the lack visibility rather marred this bit of the trip but it was still nice to have a look around, the scenery is beautiful.

I am writing this hoping that the clouds might lift a bit and I may be able to enjoy a local ride on my bike, time will tell. If the weather does not change I may just go to Mallaig and try out the Heritage Centre, tomorrow it is back on the train to Glasgow and south.

Wild and Windy West

Lochranza

Well, I've got to the west coast of Scotland & how!

I left my B&B in Edinburgh on Saturday morning and cycled into the city to catch a train to Glasgow. It was a nice downhill trafficless ride and I almost wished that I had decided to stay. I took the chance to buy myself a new book at the station bookshop, found my train, loaded my bike into the purpose built bike compartment and settled down to enjoy the trip. Arriving in Glasgow I changed trains for a local service to Ardrossan harbour and the ferry to Brodick on the isle of Arran.

The weather had been slowly deteriorating as I travelled west and by the time the ferry arrived in Brodick it was pouring with rain and quite windy. I had about 14 miles to cycle to the Youth Hostel in Lochranza where I had booked two nights stay. I stopped off at the Coop to buy food for two days in the hostel because there is no shop in Lochranza. I set off along the coast thinking that although it was raining it wasn't too bad, the road was flat and sheltered and I was doing a reasonable speed. That was until I turned away from the coast and up the hill, straight into the teeth of the wind, I could not actually pedal into it it was so strong, it was going to be a long walk! The trudge up the hill seemed interminable, the rain was getting heavier, as was the bike and I'm sure the wind was getting stronger too. The hillsides were awash with torrents of white water, it would have been very pretty on a sunny day but it was somewhat lost on me plodding uphill pushing my bike. As I suppose always happens I eventually reached the top.

The ride down was almost as much fun as the ascent; the hill was quite steep, it was mostly covered by running water which concealed all the gravel and potholes. If you ride a bike you will know that these are both things you would normally try to avoid, the wetness of the conditions and the weight of the bike made the brakes a bit less effective than usual, all contributing to a ride that lots of people would pay good money for in an amusement park. I got it for free. I managed to stay with the bike and we arrived safely at the Youth Hostel. I parked my bike and went into the reception area, the lady on duty looked at me standing there dripping onto her tiled floor and said, "I hope you don't want a bed, I don't have any left." I could have cried, but I had booked. I pointed this out to her, she hurriedly consulted her computer, apologised, and said she did have space, whew, that was a relief.

I found my bed, had a shower, got some food, dried my clothes and my view of life improved. Tomorrow had to be better.

Tomorrow was indeed better. It was a bright and blustery day and I took advantage of the sun to walk around the Loch. I took lots of photos which are uploaded to picasa if you would like to see them https://picasaweb.google.com/josephine.parkes/Lochranza?feat=directlink.

My original plan was to take the ferry north from Lochranza and cycle on towards Tarbert. The weather forecast was bad and the distances quite long so I took a decision to return to Brodick, catch the train to Glasgow and from there take the train to Mallaig. I hope that this will mean I get to see the rain from the train. It means that I can see the Isle of Skye and perhaps do some shorter local rides. The train ride is supposed to be an experience in itself.

I am now writing this, still in Brodick. The weather was too bad for the ferry to sail. I booked myself into a very nice hotel and have enjoyed a day of comfort and warmth with a good Internet signal. I have also eaten too much and spent too much money, but I've really enjoyed it. Let's hope the weather allows the ferry to sail tomorrow.

Final countdown.

Innerleithen to Edinburgh

To say that I had misgivings about the ride over the hills to Edinburgh would be an understatement. I stayed in Innerleithen last night to try and ensure the shortest ride possible, there is a large area of high ground between the start and finish of the ride and although there are figures on the map I'm not very good at translating them. The peaks of the hills measure between 400 and 650 meters, I did not climb to the top of any of them but it gives you an idea of the height.

The weather looked good before I had breakfast. I had been advised not to leave too early as the road is busy with commuter traffic. I had breakfast, packed my panniers and went to load the bike, aargh, the cloud had descended and it was pouring, what to do? The landlady kindly offered an extra nights stay if I did not want to ride. I sat down and had a quick look at the weather forecast, it looked as though it would improve towards the middle of the day but remain windy, gusting up to 36mph! With the prospect of an improvement I donned my waterproofs and set off. The ride started along a very flat part of the valley, really nice to ride along, it was just the weather that was rubbish. I soon realised that I had too many clothes on and as it was still quite wet I decided I needed to stop and divest myself of my middle layer. I was by now approaching the small local golf club so I nipped in and asked if I could strip off, I got a funny look but was directed to the ladies locker room and took a layer off, much better, off I set again.

The road now started a gradual climb and continued thus for about six miles, I think. It was a much more gradual climb than I had envisaged but quite a sustained effort, I was warming up again and the rain was almost over. Once again I stopped to change, removing the waterproofs and exchanging the trousers for my warm cycling tights, much more comfortable. Had I been carrying my original load I would never have got going again and I was still a way from the top.

The road was quiet and most drivers seem to be very courteous, giving cyclists a wide berth which is just as well looking at some of the potholes along the side of the road. This is a bit unfair as a lot of the road has a perfect surface. I continued to climb and eventually thought it looked as though the summit was nigh, but no; it was a short downhill and then up it went again, but this was the last push and the road swung right as the most amazing view across to Edinburgh and the Firth of Forth appeared. There was a place to pull over so I parked the bike to take in the view. The wind was blowing very hard, I struggled to hold the camera steady enough to take any photos, the visibility was not perfect either but it was a great vista non the less.

From here it was downhill big time, wow, what ride. I didn't,t actually allow myself to go over 25mph as the bike is heavy and starts to wobble so that was fast enough, after having spent most of the morning travelling at about 7mph.

Now I had to negotiate my way to the B&B I'd booked, I only managed to get one night as Saturday is the Edinburgh Marathon and rooms are scarce. This leg turned out to be the most difficult bit of the trip. After a few false starts and getting caught up in some really awful traffic I found it. It is very nice, they even insisted I bring my bike into my room.

Today is tinged with a bit of sadness, I'll never have a first trip again, my trusty map is unlikely to be used again; but onwards. I have decided not to stop in Edinburgh, I cannot face the city traffic, what I encountered today was much worse than anything I experienced in Leeds. I have elected to take a train with my bike to Ardrossan and get the ferry to Arran tomorrow. I have booked into the Scottish YHA hostel in Lochranza for two nights, so I'm off to see the west coast.

Along the way today I saw some lovely birds, some species I never expected to see here. I will just list them, if anyone wants to see a pictures the RSPB site http://www.rspb.org.uk/england/ is easy to use and has good illustrations.

Oyster catchers, Curlew, Golden Plover, French Partridge, Grey Heron, Ring Ouzel (red status), and the more everyday but still very pretty Goldfinches, Blue Tits, Chaffinch, Black Headed Gulls, lots of Skylarks and others I did not note.

Today's ride was about 30 miles again, I'm not quite sure how long it took as I took a bit of time getting lost and found once I reached suburbia.

Short ride day.

Melrose to Innerleithen

Having seen the sights of Melrose and there aren't very many, I set out for a relatively short day's mileage to the small town of Innerleithen, it is about 20 miles from Melrose. The logic behind this was to be as close to Edinburgh as possible, there is not much between here and Edinburgh and a lot of it is uphill. Tomorrow may involve a lot of walking!

The weather was quite clement as I set off just after 9:00 am. No rain and not too much wind, a good start. The route was mainly along quiet roads running beside the Tweed, lots of bridges to cross today.

The first part of the route after leaving Melrose was right next to the river, I tried to take a photo of my bike and I but didn't look at it very carefully and on inspection this evening I was headless, pity, it was a pretty bit of the river.

The route turned into cycle path and passed through beautiful treed avenues lined with spring flowers, idyllic.

Onward to slightly higher ground riding through fields full of ewes with already fat lambs. This bit was quite undulating, not serious hills, but not flat either and I didn't have to walk, hooray.

Returning to the valley floor from the hills I was able to actually achieve speeds in double figures, it hasn't happened often. I stopped just before the route got back to a busier road to have a squizz at the river and yet another bridge at Yair. A Dutch couple were busy taking photos and I chatted to them for a few minutes, they obligingly took a photo of me for me, James keeps complaining that I should have more pics including me, it's quite tricky to find places to put the camera & use the timer.

After a short ride along a stretch of relatively busy road the track returned to a little used lane through Forestry plantations and deciduous woodland, all very pretty in the sunlight. It was fairly up and down but altogether a lovely ride to my chosen stop for the day, Innerleithen.

I left my bike at the pub where I had booked B&B and had a look around, there was not a lot to see but I bought two delicious pies from the local butcher for eighty pence, they filled a gap. I had been advised to try the local ice cream, I did, inspite of the fact that the temperature was nearly freezing; it was a bit of a disappointment, not up to Argentinain standards.

I still had some time to fill in before I could occupy my room so looked around for something to do, the main attraction in the town appeared to be Robert Smail's Printing Works, so, nothing venture, I went to have a look. It was fantastic. The business was owned by three successive generations of the Smail family, the last of whom never married and when he gave up the business in the 1980's it was purchased as is, by the National Trust for Scotland.

The business was started in the 1800's and the family kept everything, it appears today very much as it did when it started.

The visit started with a look at what they call the case room, here all the type was set. The compositor who looks after this area is hugely enthusiastic and shared her love of this ancient skill with humour and lots of information. For example, did you know that 'mind your p's and q's' comes from telling printing apprentices to be careful whilst sorting letters, not to muddle them up; or upper and lower case comes from how the trays of capital and non capital letters were laid out for the compositors to use, capitals in the top tray and little letters in the lower one. There were other examples but I cannot recall them all.

The machine room was looked after by an ageing Aussie with long grey hair! He trained as a printer in pre computer times and obviously loves the ancient presses, he is responsible for maintaining as well as printing.

The visit was rounded off with a look at the companies books, they have a copy of every job they have ever done with date and quantities, a remarkable record.

By now I was feeling a need for a hot shower and a change of clothes so I returned to the pub. Once refreshed I went to sit in the bar to use the wifi, within minutes I was joined by a young Border Collie bitch who climbed on the next table and brought me a mouthful of beer mats, apparently I was meant to throw them, but there is not a lot of space in a pub for throwing games, we managed a few goes but it was getting a bit rowdy so we had to stop, she was so sweet; her Mum and brother were here too.

I'm off to find something to eat, I need to fuel up for the ride tomorrow.

Tweed Valley

Berwick to Melrose
The day dawned (I don't really know how it dawned, I was still asleep), bright and clear apart from a few fluffy clouds scudding across the blue sky. I was cheered by the weather and the fact that this was to be my first day with a much lighter load.
I had a very good full English breakfast in the hostel and had the bike loaded and was ready to depart by 9:00. There are some very steep hills in Berwick and as the hostel is down by the river I had to climb up through the town. I elected to push the bike as there are numerous one way systems and narrow streets, the lighter load definitely made this easier, a good start. The route for the day is mainly on quiet country road with little or no traffic rather than on dedicated cycle paths.
Just a little way outside Berwick I crossed the Border into Scotland for the first time, not an impressive crossing but a milestone nevertheless. For most of the trip the route follows the river Tweed, the lanes meander along the valley, sometimes beside the river and sometimes along country lanes through productive farmland. The valley has long had a reputation as one of the most fertile agricultural areas in Scotland. The past wealth of Berwick was based on its location as a port to carry the grain south to places such as Newcastle for brewing and flour milling. Along the way I spotted my first Highland cow, shaggy coat and long horns. There is a mixture of arable farming and stock rearing, both cattle and sheep, all looking very well fed. There were a lot of pheasants too and evidence of feeders; I think there is a lot of shooting here too. The farms look big and affluent, with beautiful old stone buildings.
Soon after Berwick the road crossed the river for the first time, this brought me back into England over a lovely old small suspension bridge more suited to horse drawn transport than modern traffic (which is restricted). Across the bridge the road climbed up the side of the valley past a large honey farm where words of encouragement were shouted as I pedalled past. I would have had to walk with my previous load.
A little further on at Norham was the ruin of yet another castle, there are fewer now on the route, it is no longer 'Coast' and not much 'Castles' either. Just after Norham the road crossed the river Tweed again, this time on a beautiful old stone bridge, I stopped for a few minutes to watch some people fly fishing. Crossing the Border once again back in Scotland the road climbs steeply away from the river and again I had to push.
The route was now towards Coldstream of the Guards fame, they originated here in the days when fighting was was part of daily life. I bypassed the town and continued through back lanes in the direction of Kelso. There was quite a lot of climbing, some I managed, some I didn't and had to get off and push. I don't know much about Kelso apart from the fact it has a racecourse, my route took me right beside the track with it's hurdles and steeplechase jumps. It looked as though they were preparing for a race meeting with lots of watering and grass cutting going on. Before I lightened my load Kelso would have been a days ride, about thirty miles; but I felt carrying on to Melrose was not unrealistic, about another fifteen miles.
The latter part of my day was hard work, partly because of the hills, and partly because I am still not really fit enough. I did lots of stops for snacks and drinks and lots of bike pushing. I was cheered at one point by the appearance of four Guinea Fowl who ran in front of me for quite a distance before they realised that heading for the hedge might be a good idea. Some of you know how dotty I am about these silly birds, I have lots of happy memories associated with them. The route crossed the river once more, this time on a beautiful little suspension bridge, it was just a footbridge and I suspect built largely for the convenience of anglers, very picturesque.
I made it to Melrose in the late afternoon, very tired but happy to have completed about forty five miles.

Nearly in Scotland

Seahouses to Berwick

Sunday dawned grey and windy but with no rain. The clouds were higher and not as black so I hoped I would at least stay dry. The wind was not quite head on so things looked good. For the first time I booked accommodation before arrival and just hoped I could get there in time. I have been cycling about thirty miles a day, this seems achievable at the moment; hopefully I will manage more as I get fitter.

The start of the day was riding through quiet country lanes a little way inland. I headed towards Bamburgh and it's iconic castle hoping to get a good photo, I managed a OK shot but the weather was a bit gloomy, so I had to make do.

The route continued through some very pretty countryside with a few steep valleys, whizz down one side, push up the other. I nearly bumped into a Peregrine Falcon who swooped across my path whilst looking for a snack. I also passed a beautiful old stone windmill that had been converted into a gorgeous home, sorry I don't have a photo to show you,it didn't seem a good idea at the time.

The ride progressed well along quiet minor roads until it turned back east towards the coast at Beal. I had misgivings at this point that I would be able to ride this section along grassy tracks across sheep grazed dune and wetlands. I actually quite enjoyed it, it was like riding across waves (without water). Some bits enforced a stint of getting off and pushing but it was a beautiful bit of coast and worth the effort. The track eventually joined the coast path, this was a bit perilous for my loaded bike in parts, I didn't fancy falling off the cliffs with or without my bike, so once again I walked quite a bit. The weather had by now deteriorated and it was damp and windy and I just wanted to get there.

Berwick hove into view around a bend in the track, nearly done. I found the YHA where I had booked for the night, it is amazing, a newly converted old Granary and only open for three months. I found my room and enjoyed a hot shower in the shiny new high tech bathroom. The hostel has a nice Bistro type restaurant where I had an excellent chicken Caesar salad for supper.

I will spend tonight in Berwick and set off tomorrow minus my camping gear. I have sent all 10 kgs of it back to James. I hope that I will really be able to enjoy the ride with a smaller load. I now have only two panniers, previously I had four, and the tent and sleeping bag. The weather has not been really conducive to camping, so I will just have to find a bed every night. We'll see how it goes in the morning.

Puffin marvellous

Seahouses and the Farne Islands

Although I have only been riding for three days I decided to take a day off and visit the Farne Islands whilst I have the opportunity. For as long as I can remember I have wanted to see Puffins and what better place to fulfill this wish than the Farnes?

This group of small rocky islands sits just off the coast of Northumberland between Seahouses and Bamburgh. The islands are an important sea bird sanctuary and the Longstone Lighthouse sits on the north eastern fringe to warn shipping of the hazard. The islands that is, not the birds.

I started my day by moving from one B&B to another, the place I stayed last night had promised two nights but on arrival I was told that they had made a mistake & could only accommodate me for one! The first place was very posh but not really that nice, I wish I had had two nights in the place I am in now, cheaper and more relaxed and a really nice landlady. Plus a decent wifi signal.

Once I had moved all my stuff I set out to explore the town. Seahouses is a destination for local days out and has for many years been a popular holiday destination for the workforce of the north east. Originally a fishing port it would now appear to be supported largely by tourism. Trips to the Farnes are obviously a big attraction. It also has the highest density of fish and chip shops that I have ever seen. I tried one, it was good but not as good as the one I tried in Leeds.

The coast here has long sandy beaches backed by dunes and the water is crystal clear, so a walk along the beach seemed like a good idea. It was invigorating to say the least, the wind was blowing hard from the north as I set off towards Bamburgh. I really enjoyed it, there were lots of walkers, many with dogs, all sampling the elements. I walked for about an hour then went to find a bite to eat before my trip to see the birds.

There are quite a few businesses running boats to the bird sanctuary. I imagine that the numbers are quite carefully controlled as the islands are a very important breeding ground for many varieties of sea bird and they also support a large colony (3,000+) of Atlantic Seals, even though this is the North Sea. There was a large contingent of Dutch birders waiting their turn to go, most of them carried serious tripods and cameras with huge lenses; many of them were dressed in cammo clothing, my red cycling jacket felt a bit brash.

My boat left the harbour at 2:00pm, the passenger carrying part of the boat was uncovered but it looked as though we might escape getting wet. The islands are about 30 minutes from the harbour. As we approached the islands the number of birds started to become evident, from a distance the rocks just look as though they are covered in guano, but most of the white patches are actually covered with birds. The air was alive with shrieking sea birds, squabbling over food, nest space and probably prospective mates. There were also lots of birds just bobbing about in the water, it must be nice to be well enough insulated just to sit on the surface and watch the world go by. Once we were closer to the rocks the strong ammoniacal smell of bird poo irritated the nostrils, similar to entering a chicken shed.

The main varieties of birds nesting on the islands are Puffin, Guillemot, Kittiwake, Razorbill, three varieties of Tern, Shag, Cormorant, and Eider. There are quite a few other varieties recorded from time to time but the aforementioned are the most common sea bird varieties.

The boat also fitted in a look at one of the seal colonies, they are almost as appealing as dolphins with their Labrador like faces, large eyes and long whiskers. They all looked quite relaxed, lying about checking out the days quota of tourists.

Once we had done a tour, with some useful commentary from the skipper; we were landed on Inner Farne to have a wander around. It was quite extraordinary to be able to walk around the island with so many nesting birds. There are designated paths, but you can get very close to many of the nests and the birds generally seem quite unconcerned, the Eiders seem especially chilled. The Arctic Terns get quite aggressive once they have eggs but it is still relatively early in the season; egg laying will take place soon then it seems you need to wear a hat!

You can see from the photos how many scores of birds there are, numbers beyond imagination. In the visitor centre there are numbers recorded by the wardens, the only one I can remember is for the Puffins, over 30,000.

The boat left for the return journey at 4:30pm, as we left the heavens opened, it was heavy soaking rain. I arrived back with the only pair of non-cycling trousers I have with me absolutely dripping and I had arranged to meet a friend for supper.

My obliging landlady managed to dry my trousers and I had a very nice pub supper with an old work colleague. I nice way to round off a memorable day.

Castles galore.

Amble to Seahouses
I didn't leave Amble until nearly ten this morning. The initial part of the ride was beside the River Coquet, it was very pretty, lots of birds and yet another castle, Warkworth, in the background. Once over the river the cycle route took a sharp turn up a short steep hill, pushing the bike was the only practical option. Once up the hill there was a horrible stretch of farm track, loose gravel and potholes, I was convinced that falling off was quite probable, fortunately my prediction was wrong and I made it to the metalled purpose made cycle path to Alnmouth.
I had planned to cycle to Alnwick to see the Castle and gardens but looking at the map I thought there were too many hills involved. I decided instead to go to Seahouses and stay for two nights to enable me to fit in a trip to the Farne Islands and hopefully spot some Puffins. For as long as I can remember I have wanted to see a Puffin or even two, so let's hope tomorrow fulfils that wish.
I stopped for lunch today at Craster, for those of you who don't know, it is a tiny fishing port, renowned for its smokehouse producing, amongst other things, kippers. I had lunch in the pub garden, a juicy crab sandwich and a rock shandy and a spectacular view of Dunstanburgh Castle. The route certainly delivers on the castle front.
Most of the afternoon ride was along quiet country lanes through classic English countryside. The weather was a bit blustery and I did get hailed on, but I rode into Seahouses just before four o'clock. I was overtaken by a group of MTB riders as I came into the town, one of whom asked me if I was moving house? Very funny!
I think I rode about thirty miles again today, I really do need to sort out my  bike computer.

Blown Away

Whitley Bay to Amble

I felt as though today was the first proper day. It was a glorious sunny morning but, the wind was howling, I think it was blowing about force five when I left Whitley Bay just after nine o'clock. My bike provides a nice solid area for the wind to blow against, it was really hard work. The wind aside, the cycle route runs close to the coast and is really exhilarating to ride along, at least it was not uphill. The beaches were thinly populated, mainly by people walking their dogs, it reminded me of Muizenburg, it looked great, I would like a dog again one day.

The next town of any import was Blyth, not very inspiring but it provided an Asda with clean loo. The cycle route through Blyth zig zags through housing estates and allotments and at one point crosses a grubby stream with a footbridge, the approach to the bridge has steps and steel barriers, on a cycle path! I managed to negotiate it but my bike is heavy and fat. I have put a photo on picasa.

North of Blyth the cycle route is back in wilder countryside. I stopped by a memorial to a sunken coal mine, I imagine the sea just overwhelmed it. I also chatted to a man walking his two elderly dogs, his accent was so thick I really struggled to understand him, but he did point out the local pub which is owned by either Bobby or Jackie Charlton's son. I was tempted to stop & sample their brew but decided to carry on pedalling, particularly as the wind was now blowing even harder.

The next stretch of the route was functional but ran alongside a busy main road, but north of Newbiggin it returned to the country lanes. The weather was a bit wet along this stretch and I thought I was going to get soaked, thankfully the rain blew over. Not altogether surprising considering the strength of the wind. I stopped in a tiny village called Cresswell and had a very good ice cream.

The final leg of my trip today took me along behind the sand dunes of Druridge Bay and country park. This area is obviously a birders paradise, lots of men in green with huge camera lenses and monoscopes. I saw lots of birdlife but was not able to really look because the moment I stop concentrating I' m quite likely to fall off my bike. The heath land behind the dunes was full of wildflowers too, I particularly noticed the Cowslips. Whilst navigating this stretch I took an unsigned detour and circumnavigated a huge lake full of wildfowl.

I finished my day's ride in Amble and sought out a B&B to rest my weary bones. I had a nice seafood pasta for supper and a walk along the harbour to round off the day. I've managed to write this without losing it this evening but cannot upload it as the Internet is very slow. Perhaps tomorrow it will be straightforward.

This ride was about thirty miles, I forgot to look at the computer.

Newcastle to Whitley Bay.

Well, I made it, I've completed day one. That sounds as though it was a bit arduous but I really enjoyed it.
James cycled with me from his home in Leeds to the railway station, I was quite nervous about riding a heavily laden bike through the roadworks and traffic of Leeds. En route another cyclist commented that she did not think we had shared the load very well; James was riding his bare skinny speedy road bike. Whilst my bike is more of a pack horse, James' is a racehorse. 
James put the bike on the train for me, although the allocated space was big enough I was worried that with the swaying of the train the bike would topple over, so I sat with it to Newcastle to avoid any embarrassing incidents.
On arriving in Newcastle I fortified myself with coffee and a muffin and purposefully pushed my bike out of the station. I was not keen to ride, not knowing quite where I was going in a strange and busy city.  It took me a little while to get to the cycle route along the river, but wow, what an impression the bridges and riverside made. I think it was partly inspired by an emotional response, Newcastle is where I was born and although I never lived there there is something deep within that reacts to "coming home". 
I climbed on my bike and pedalled off along the cycle route, it was a real pleasure, a wide traffic free path running along the banks of the Tyne. The route is for the most part well sign posted, I cycled past the eastern end of Hadrian's Wall and before too long I was at Tynemouth and the first castle of the "Coast and Castles" route. The coast really is beautiful, clean sandy beaches, lots of big rock pools and at the moment very few people and beyond it all the vast expanse of the North Sea.
I arrived in Whitley Bay at about four o'clock, located my B&B, and settled down to blog. I spent about half an hour or so writing only to lose everything when I tried to save it. I have now decided to write in the iPad notebook first, I can then copy it to the blog and not worry about the vagaries of google's programming.
I hope day two is as enjoyable as day one and that I manage to cycle a bit further.

Nearly there.

Well, who would ever have thought that tomorrow they would see me setting off on an open ended cycling tour!

I'm not quite sure where the idea evolved from but after lots of research and lots of shopping, most of which I have to carry, tomorrow sees the start of my travels and at the moment I have no idea where the end lies.

I'm starting with a bit of a cheat and catching a train with my bike (bike goes free) from Leeds to Newcastle. I plan to cycle from Newcastle to Whitley Bay to spend my first night in a B&B. On Thursday morning the ride starts in earnest.

I'm not sure of anything much, apart from the fact that I'm lucky enough to have no time constraints. This means I'm not under pressure to complete huge daily distances and I'll have time to enjoy the ride. The first stage of my trip is along a well ridden route, the Sustrans 'Coast and Castles'.http://www.coast-and-castles.co.uk/ As I progress and my fitness and confidence improve I imagine I'll be able to predict what my daily mileage might be, initially I'm just keen to enjoy it, even if it is only ten miles or so a day.

I'm taking a tent with me; camping is also unexplored territory for me, I did a bit as Girl Guide aged about twelve! Living on a boat is a bit like camping, at least a tent stays still. I've pitched the tent in the garden and that went OK, wind and rain might make it a bit more of a challenge though. I plan to use both B&B, & hostel type accommodation according to weather & availability. I wouldn't really want to go too long without a hot shower, and I don't imagine those I meet along the way would like it either. I've tried out my camp stove too and that worked better than the electric kettle; I do need to develop my culinary one pot skills though.

I'm hoping I'll be disciplined enough to blog regularly and that this is the first of many entries, so watch this space and I plan to update this after tomorrow's journey.