It was time for a long overdue meet-up with my cycle camp friends. Life has just got in the way for so many reasons, so a big get-together or a long ride was out of the question for this summer holiday.
But this camp's plan was to meet Jo in Kimbridge for some lunch, then meet Jill in West Dean then ride on together to Salisbury for Jill’s second-ever camp. Sadly Babs and Jenny couldn't join us for this one, but I was sure glad to have the chance to pack up and roll away from home for a sneaky night in my new tent.
I was packed up and ready to go with a little time to spare, so I sat in the garden with a coffee. With the luxury of a moment to think, I wondered why I seemed to have such a wide load this time, with thoughts of ‘Does my bum look big in this?’ reverberating around my head. I then somehow remembered my water bottle, which although small, I would have been lost without.
It was still early, but I was restless, so decided to set off anyway. This would hopefully mean I could take my time to get to our meeting point.
I paused at the postbox for my usual - start of polar steps - photograph. Then slowly dragged myself up the first big hill of the day. That's the issue with living in a valley.
The journey out of Southampton is not at all inspiring. With busy roads, untidy cycle paths and no pleasant scenery to divert the mind. So as with so many of my journeys, the first half hour is nothing but a trudge. I paused on the bridge over the motorway to take a swig of my coffee and remove the rain jacket that I had slipped on 10 minutes earlier. The mizzle wasn't pleasant, but it was just too hot to wear an extra layer.
After that, the scenery started to improve, even if the road/cycle path/ weather didn't.
I made good time getting through Romsey, so was going to be very early to meet Jo. So instead I paused at my local zero-waste shop and cafe where I caught up on my emails while enjoying a sneaky coffee. I chatted to one of the staff about my pending adventure and then to another customer who was very interested in cycle camping and asked if I was a part of a club, now there’s an idea!
I hadn't heard from Jo so couldn't judge how long she would be, but just as I was ready to leave a text came through saying she was underway. I headed along the NCN 24 for a couple of miles to reach our meeting spot at Kimbridge Barn.
Jo had only been there a matter of minutes when I arrived. We ordered drinks and a cheese scone and caught up on the details of the last week whilst waiting for our order to arrive.
When the food and each other's news were sufficiently digested we returned to the NCN 24 heading towards West Dean. It was such a dull day, a real letdown after the preceding one of blue sky and soaring temperatures. Today was cold and damp, in fact at times it felt like we were riding through a rain cloud.
We made good progress and were soon at West Dean, where we disturbed Jill from her quiet lunch on the picturesque green where bees busily collected pollen from a large lavender bush.
We didn't stop for long and were soon underway again. The route was familiar, but nothing felt particularly worth stopping for as we continued to cycle through the damp air.
We passed the lovely little church, commenting that it had been the location of our lunch the last time we rode this way.
Even the sunflowers filling this field looked lost without those rays they were searching for.
We weaved across the A36, crossing a couple of times as the little blue signs directed us, through a park by the river and in no time arrived at the cathedral. This almost took me by surprise, I was so concentrating on the cycle route, that I didn’t notice the big spire to our right. We stopped to take a photo then as is often the way here, someone offered to take one of us all, before almost reprimanding us for taking our bikes onto the sacred ground.
We considered stopping for a coffee but decided instead to press on and make one at the campsite. I am glad we did as the next section was anything but straightforward.
The city council have been working hard to develop a decent cycle route from the centre of town right past the sports centre and consequently the campsite. Sadly, however, it is not yet complete (this has taken well over a year now) and there was no visible diversion for us cyclists. Following the pedestrian diversion took us to a set of stairs. We took it in turn to help one another get the bikes up. Jo helped me with mine, Jill helped with Jo's and while I was midway up the stairs helping Jill with hers, I heard a huge crash. I looked up to see Trigger on its side balanced precariously on one of the panniers. Thankfully the pannier had taken much of the blow and had significantly protected the rear mech, saving me a huge headache, so the only issue was a slight tear in the handlebar tape. I could live with that.
We continued on, alongside the River Avon. to a very strange pelican crossing. we each took different paths around the beacon that was very much in the way of the marked cycle route. At this point came another crash as Jill's tyre caught in the ditch between the two surfaces. Both she and the bike came to earth with a thud. Her head and knee took the brunt this time, a huge reminder of the benefits of wearing a good helmet.
We looked up the path to see more barriers and tried to work out a route using the signs available to us. In theory, we were less than 5 minutes away from pitching and coffee, but incorrect assumptions based on the information on the signs meant that we were riding in the wrong direction for a good 20 minutes. At last, we came across someone who looked like they knew where they were going. He stood for a while contemplating our options for us, then ultimately sent us back the way we came to do battle with the main road we were trying to avoid. We took his advice and returned to the dodgy pelican crossing just in time to watch someone else head in the direction that looked closed.
Without even discussing it, we followed this cyclist only to find the closure was an optical illusion and we could indeed get through. As predicted, 5 minutes later we were being booked in by the lovely staff at the Salisbury Camping and Caravaning Club site. We were charged backpackers rates for arriving by bicycle and assured that cyclists are never turned away
We pitched tents in record time, accompanied by the smell of the fish and chip van that was just the other side of the shower block. I momentarily considered cooking the meal I had brought with me, but the smell of the chips was too hard to ignore. I went and put my order in, then tried to bring some order to my belongings.
This was only the second time Jill has been cycle camping and I couldn't get over how efficiently she pitched her tent and how ordered she kept her equipment. She did opt to cook rather than rely on the convenience food, but as she took apart her stove, she realised that the gas bottle was missing. So instead she took a crash course in the art of Trangia cookery and managed superbly.
I realised that chips alone would not be a good meal, so fried some onions and mushrooms, added the broccoli that I had parboiled, and then threw in some cashews to add a little more substance to my carb-heavy meal. A touch of soy sauce finished off my chip accompaniment nicely.
Jo did the opposite - taking the fish-only option from the horsebox van, she cooked some string beans to act as her chip replacement.
We all settled to our strange meals, watching the clouds go by rather quickly, and spotting bits of blue in the sky 'Not enough to make a sailor's trousers though' commented Jo.
Dessert came courtesy of Jo and Jill's custard supply and an Eccles cake for each of us. We were very glad that these hadn't been culled during Jo's efforts to reduce the load on her bike (She removed half a bag of nuts instead)
The bats flitted around us as we waited for the stars to appear, but the sky turned grey once more and the rain began to fall, so we each retired to our tents and I once again marvelled at the benefits of my palace.
We woke to a very blue sky. A plane flew past low enough to be able to wave at the pilot. He was coming in to land in a nearby field, but very quickly took off again only to repeat the manoeuvre very shortly afterwards, it wasn't till we spotted a set of tiny blobs in the sky heading back down to earth, that we understood what was going on.
Jo was heading off to the train station fairly early and Jill and I were planning to see the monument at the top of the hill that we had slept beside. But first, we needed to pack.
A new inhabitant of the palace appeared to have great travel goals, I could relate to his pains.
All packed and ready before 10, we said thank you to our hosts - who were busy getting out a huge sit-on mower - and goodbye to Jo who was ready to do battle with the cycle diversions back into ~Salisbury and locate the station.
Jill and I left the site and headed up the hill, it was already boiling hot as we entered Old Sarum. We debated starting with ice cream but decided to do the tourist thing first. We wandered around the walls of William the Conqueror's 12th-century castle and looked over to the remains of the cathedral. We learned that Salisbury was built along with its cathedral in about 1220 after a falling out between the King and the church. The Bishop of the time wished for a bigger Church that was closer to his dwelling so he helped to establish the market town to raise money for the building work to commence.
We sat in the shade for a while, then partook in cookies and ice cream, before deciding our next moves. Jill had plotted a route home that she had not done before and I was deciding between the train and cycling home. Meanwhile, Jo was stuck on a horrendously busy train heading towards Bath.
Jill and I said our goodbyes and I headed towards town, while she took a route along the Avon Valley. Everything looked so much nicer with a blue sky backdrop and sun warming the legs. I stopped to photograph a stunning bridge that I’d noted on the way up, but didn't want to stop for yesterday,
I followed the NCN45 to get back to town. Then rather than fight with diversions, I walked alongside the river into the centre of town.
Jo sent another message about the train and my mind was made up - I would ride to Romsey and if I didn't feel like the last bit, could catch a train from there. I retraced our path through to the park south of the city, I chose the path beside the river, thinking that I would stop for a drink and my apple, but all the nice seats were taken so I pedalled on until I found a nice spot beside a forest fire break.
I paused at the church at East Grinstead
And stopped to photograph a fun set of wooden statues outside a house. What a difference a sunny day makes.
It was just after 2pm and I was very hot, very tired and quite thirsty. I’d remembered a little green with a shop at the bottom. I pushed on to the shop, hoping that they would have cold water at the very least (I had run out by then) I feasted on a Kit Kat crunchy and the chilled can of Coke hit the thirst and caffeine spot perfectly.
I refilled my water bottle and headed on towards Romsey.
There is something about familiar miles that make them go so much quicker. It felt like just a couple of pedal strokes and I was rolling past the back of the Mottisfont, estate. Then round the bend, over the level crossing and there went Kimbridge barn. Then I was back on the cycle track alongside the A3057 towards Belbins. A left turn signified a big hill but I had a goal in mind when I got to the top. I checked my watch, yup all good for time. A right, then a left, then it was into the industrial estate that I’d visited just 27 hours earlier.
‘Didn’t you come in yesterday?’ Questioned the friendly staff. ‘How was your trip’
‘Brilliant’ I exclaimed.
She laughed when she brought out my order to a dozing, sweaty cyclist. It went down very well! Lemon and Jinja make an amazing post ride sandwich.
Just as I was finishing, I noticed a small hitchhiker on my back. That would explain how much heavier my bags felt!
I took him to find a new home round the back of the shop.
I decided that it wasn’t worth catching the train from Romsey. I instead hatched a new plan, altered my route, and headed to Chilworth. I’d not been looking forward to riding back through Rownhams, so decided to take advantage of an empty classroom and drop my tent off to fully dry.
More diversions on the Botley Road, I’m sure they were thinner now than they were the day before, but the road was just as busy.
One of the staff held the door open for me as I arrived and kept an eye on my bike as I opened out my tent. I stayed chatting for a while before heading back home to relax, unpack and plan for another adventure.
Thanks as always goes to my wonderful travel
Companions, who always willingly share their time, their food, their humour and their photographs. Thank you Jo and Jill for your wonderful company.
What shall we do next?
Further Information -
Day 1 Southampton to Salisbury - 29 miles
Day 2 Salisbury to Southampton - 29 miles
Campsite - Salisbury Camping and Caravan club
Backpacker and members rates £8.70
Links
