June 2021 - My first cycle tour (Self propelled camp) Day 2

‘Don’t judge camping on your first night away’ I was told. ‘You never sleep on your first night’ said another seasoned cycle tourer. 

Thankfully my body hadn’t listened. Whether it was the fresh air, the exercise, the soothing sound of the rain or just the comfort or the sleeping bag, I went out like a light. 

I could hear the others moving around and unzipped my tent to see what the new day held in store. It was like the world had changed seasons while we slept. 

There was no blue in the sky. In fact the clouds had decided to join us for breakfast. 

We could hardly see the end of the field and the nearby horses threw strange shapes in the skyline as they moved around. Time for a coffee. 

Battling with yet another leg cramp while sitting awkwardly on the floor, I vowed then and there that next time I would need a camp chair. I would just have to shed the pounds that the chair would bring - it’s a necessity! 

Time for breakfast and the camp dog was well aware of the campers routine. He took quite a shine to Bab’s, sitting beside her as close as he could. I’m not sure whether he was after the warmth from her blanket or a bit of her porridge, but either way, he stuck around long enough for Bab’s to get a selfie. 

We took our time packing up - everything was wet and with the low clouds still hanging around, the tents were unlikely to dry any time soon. 

I have realised that things never quite pack the same way twice. And the bike seemed so much larger and heavier today. We filled our bottles and readied ourselves to leave. All hoping back off the bikes as soon as we remembered the strange, unridable, surface of the driveway. 

We left our home for the night in search of new adventure (well a local windmill to be precise) 

After a slight detour (we took the wrong road), we arrived at Wilton windmill. Note to self - windmills are usually at the top of big hills - remember this when you agree to go sightseeing with a very heavy bike ;) It was worth the trip though. 

The sign for coffee and cream tea reminded me how hungry I was. Shame the cafe didn’t open for a few more hours. No worries though as Jo had another coffee stop in mind. 

This place was amazing, an open barn at the end of a farm track. An honesty box for any small purchases of the homemades dotted around, but best of all, a sign with a phone number to order hot drinks and fresh sandwiches. 

It instantly became lunchtime! 

The sandwiches were amazing. And Pinckney’s farm shop was quickly added to my list of favourite stops that I must revisit at some point soon.  

Fully satisfied and pleasantly warmed by our impromptu feast, we needed to make a move. We had to climb the Chiltons. We had travelled through a gap on the way there, but this time we were climbing up to the ridge - this was no easy ride  -before dropping down to Weyhill, a town with a rich history of Gypsy conventions. Though it meant more to me in a slightly more modern era as the last village we drove through before my grandparents house. (This was a very welcome signpost when you were a carsick youth) 

Bab’s neatly zoomed up the hill on her Goddess of a bike. Reaching the top with enough time to spare to grab our her camera for an embarrassing photo of me struggling up there with Jo politely riding alongside to give me moral support. She was pretending that the small wheels and heavy bags were holding her back too. But I knew she was really just keeping me company. 

Once on the ridge the 360 views were just amazing. I only wish the phones camera - or any camera for that matter - would do the scene justice. 

We carried on a while before we felt the need of another stop. It was warming up by now and the friendly pub was welcoming us to join them. 

We all ordered cold drinks and while I went to investigate the very animated game of dominoes on the nearby table, Jo and Babs tried to identify the pretty comfrey in the ditch behind us, which were singlehandedly providing a whole hive of bees with their pollen.  

 We didn’t have far to go now. We dropped down from the ridge and headed back towards Winchester. 

We said our goodbyes just before a long down as Babs didn’t turn off as soon as we did. 

I once more marvelled about the many friendships and experiences that cycling has brought me. 

My life unmistakably enriched by my favourite hobby and the friends who enjoy it alongside me. 

Thank you Jo and Babs for your friendship, great company and tremendous patience shown when answering my billion questions as we travelled. 

‘Have we put you off yet’ asked Jo. 

‘No chance - when and where is tour number 2?’