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Published: December 20th 2010
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As we sit by the pool in sunshine it all seems so long ago that we took to the British roads. Our goal was to cycle England from sister's home in Olney, Bucks to the Scottish borders and back down via the Lake District. We set off in glorious sunshine and the perfect English summers day. We wondered why we hadn't done this before. Images of cream teas on perfectly manicured lawns flashed by as we peddled the country lanes. Our first destination was St Neots. No idea what to expect but Ray managed to fall off his bike just as we entered the camp-site; this was not to be his only fall and within a day or two his knees were in shreds. A pleasant town St Neots turned out to be with the river running through it. We camped by the river and watched the boats go by. Next day we headed off through Cromwell's Huntingdon and onto Lincolnshire. Not sure what is in the water here, but the host at our camp-site appeared naked (well just a skimpy pair of trunks) demanding £10 (an offer we couldn't refuse) for a stay in his apple orchard.
Woodhall Spa
Yorkshire Wolds
It won't be flat for long was an interesting stop with our camp-site giving us entry to the Lido. The town itself was a former military officers base in WW2 and nestled in the surrounding woodland was a restored 1930's cinema. Can't remember the film but enjoyed the ice cream in the interval. Within a short time we arrived at Barton upon Humber and we were about to leave the flat countryside of Lincolnshire for the Yorkshire coast. A memorably scenic cycle across the Humber Bridge and we were in Hull. Now put your prejudices aside as Hull is a nice place with some interesting fishy sculptures (see pic) and a very pleasant waterfront. Our cycle had all been quite easy and our next stop was Beverley just 30 miles away. Yorkshire however had other plans and our beautiful English summer turned wet and cold. Beverley, however, was a pretty town, but the intelligence of a camp-site rather like WMD's proved to not exist. Having cycled a further 20 miles we found the patch of grass and a hose pipe as a shower. We decided to forgoe the Spartan roadside field and continue on to the beckoning bright lights of Bridlington. 30 miles on and we
Coldstream
Luxury B&B in Scotland reached Bridlington but all the sites were for Caravans only. Reighton Gap (bizarrely) and a Hoseasons camp-site was our only hope. It was Bank Holiday and it was full but we managed to squeeze our impeccable 4 seasons tent next to the £20 specials from Halfords and went for a desperately needed shower. They were closed! A friendly cleaner took pity on us and allowed us a bath (what a treat). Just in time before the fish shop closed we sat on the cliff top and reflected on our 100+ mile cycle day. Next day and we climbed up out of Reighton Gap, breakfasted in Filey and onto Scarborough. Our route took us off road on the disused railway skirting the North York Moors to Fylingthorpe then Whitby, Cosmopolitan Whitby ( how our standards have declined) provided us with a fantastic meal.
The climb onto the North Yorks Moors from Whitby had us wondering why we hadn't just toured round Lincolnshire. Resting at Scaling Dam we phoned friends in Stokesley who welcomed us into their home for the next couple of days. We slept in a bed. This was completely alien to us as they had a garden we
Morecambe and John
Eric Morecambe's lesser known partner could have slept in. They insisted we slept indoors. We were feral by this stage and in an attempt to bring us back to 21st century society they took us to a music festival.
Rejuvenated, we cycled along the another disused railway (we didn't need roads by this stage) and arrived in Durham where we stayed in University accommodation – boy did it bring back memories for Ray. The small dingy room with a single desk and bits of blu tack still stuck to the walls. Ashington provided a council run camp-site (endangered species) next to a river. Whilst in Ashington we took the advantage of getting the hell out of there (you'll know why if you've been) and had a day trip on the bus to Newcastle where the delights of the big city were all the more appealing after our self enforced privation.
Our journey took us onto the Northumbrian coast with it's castles on the beaches. New to both of us this is a beautiful part of the country, well what we could see of it between the rain-clouds. Yes 2 weeks of continuous rain was taking it's toll. A memorable trip across to Lindisfarne and tea on the lawn. We arrived in Alnwick. The camp-site was the local Rugby pitch and offered a communal team tub to wash in (very Roman!). We had to be out in 3 days as the site would be full; Jules Holland and Alison Moyet were playing at the castle. The young girl in the cake shop stared glassy eyed “Jules Holland and Alison who?” she said, oh we felt old! But cycled on singing “Only You” for an hour or two. Onto Berwick upon Tweed and a few days rest. The Scottish borders beckoned and our five pound notes started to look a little strange, looking like they'd been printed in Hamish's bookshop. Our first stop was Coldstream as in the Coldstream Guards. Camping is quite civilised in Scotland (unlike Bridlington) and we were next to the river for free. We started to like Scotland more and more and treated ourselves to a pub dinner (roast something or other but it was fantastic). A full Scottish breakfast and a few words of encouragement from a sweet elderly Scotsman (quite clearly one of us) and over the Pennines and into Carlisle. Oh how easy I made that sound, I'll repeat OVER THE PENNINES (without getting off the bike and pushing).
We had arrived in the Lake District a few weeks early and so camped by the lake at Keswick for a week and then toured the lakes until Ray's mum and sister came to join us. We had booked accommodation at the top of Kirkstone Pass (look it up). This was not cyclable and so Ray's sister had to be our taxi service. We visited many towns including the quirky Ulverston where Stan Laurel was born. This is when the plans started to unfold and it became clear that Ray's mum was not going to stay in the home but that she was also incapable of looking after herself. She had no option but to have us look after her and so our cycle journey was cut short. We cycled onto south out of the Lakes - on the way in Lancaster a bee stung John on his eye and he was sure that they were trained to attack Yorkshiremen. With a swollen face John managed to limp into Preston. We checked into a lovely hotel and held a crisis meeting where we decided that we would hatch a plan to rescue Theresa from 'the home'. A base in Leeds proved to be a good idea and a couple of weeks later John, Ray & Theresa were in an apartment enjoying the Victorian arcades and browsing around Harvey Nichols. As the weather began to turn we set off for Lanzarote which is where we are now. After a few weeks of settling in we have reached a pleasant equilibrium. We have a small villa just outside Playa Blanca with a pool. The sun shines here all the time (well except a couple of days) and we are ready to receive guests. We are pondering our return in March and Brighton seems to have taken our fancy. We now spend hours on the Internet pondering next Winter's destination – all ideas welcome as we have so far explored UK (too cold), Panama (too wet), Gran Canaria (too gay), Auckland (too far), Buenos Aires (just right?). Hope to see as many of you as we can in either Lanzarote or Brighton.
Lots of Love
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Damian
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Living the dream! A lovely well writing blog as usual. I'm joining the unemployed masses now so I will have to come and visit with all my free time.