August 2024 - Nans are always right

Let me take you on a little ride down memory lane. It was 1992 and Mum and Dad were going to buy me a bike for Christmas. My grandparents knew just the place. Though they lived in Andover and we lived in Portsmouth, we often met them in Southampton to go shopping. Near to their favourite Italian restaurant was a huge bike shop. My mind was totally blown by the size and the choice of bikes there was there. If you wanted to try one, you just rode around the shop, between the many rows of different styles of bike. My brother and I tried all sorts, and though we weren’t supposed to, raced each other through the aisles. We both had a new bike for Christmas  

I’m not great at making decisions at the best of times, but this was really hard. Everyone was giving suggestions and I’ve no idea how I made my final decision, but I suspect it may well have been based on colour.

I remember my Nan suggesting that I try these new folding bikes. Grandad told her that they would be no good as they had tiny wheels and that would be just way too difficult she commented about the people she saw every day where she worked and they seemed to fly along with the wheels going so fast. ‘Just an optical illusion’ my Grandad explained. I never tried one. 

I ended up with a lovely maroon bike with three gears a removable basket and so began my youthful love of cycling. That bike was my road bike, my mountain bike, my stunt bike and my transport until I passed my driving test and forgot all about the two wheeled form of travel. 

So whizz on more years than I’d like to admit and I’m lazily surfing through Facebook pages. I don’t tend to use it much these days, rarely posting anything but enjoying the memories section marking hobbies past. I somehow find myself looking at an advert from a group I signed up to a while ago. And there it was, the bike my Nan was suggesting all those many years ago. It was for sale, not too far away, in excellent condition and at a price just above what I sold my last bike for.

I’d had no intention of buying another bike, but I had been fascinated by the Brompton ever since I’d had a go on Jo’s and now I had a dilemma. 

Having checked a few things with the seller, I started to organise a trip to go and view the bike. I asked Jo if she would come along too and the adventure started to unfold. 


Tuesday morning rolled round very quickly. I’m not sure whether it was nerves, excitement or a combination of the two, but I hadn’t slept much at all. I decided to drive down to town and hopefully find a parking space within walking distance of the IOW ferry. I did - right on the pier - and was almost two hours early. 

Jo had travelled down by train and was ready for the days adventure, our planned journey would mean a few new experiences for her too. 


The Redjet, a fast catamaran service to the island now has purpose built bike carriers on one side. This is just perfect for cycle commuters and those of us who love taking our bikes everywhere. But Dora’s non standard size meant she didn’t fit the stand. She did sit happily alongside it, but looked quite lonely as we sailed across the Solent. 


Once in Cowes, we walked up the high street following little green signs to a bus stop. At this point Dora was origami-ed into a large Ikea bag. The stop was hot and busy, as was the bus. But we had excellent seats close to the front, and the journey only cost £2.00. 


Having said that, we were quite relieved to be getting off the hot, noisy bus. Dora jumped back into action like a giant transformer and the bag quickly disappeared from view into a cavernous bag on the front of the bike. 

We found a handy cafe just up the road from where we were dropped. They were more than happy for Jo to wheel Dora in and put her under the table - another first for Jo. 
This made lunch absolutely stress free as there was no concerns about having to lock the bike somewhere. 



Having eaten a good lunch and spent a little time consulting Google maps, we opted for the 20 minute walk to Carrisbrook rather than a second bus ride. It was a nice day and we had plenty of time. The roads seemed quite familiar and we recalled our day trip to Carrisbrook Castle last year. 

We arrived at the house, knocked the door and were greeted by two lovely children inviting us round to the back garden. The bike was carefully lifted out of the carry case that it had spent much of the last four years in and Jo explained how to unfold this metal origami puzzle, 
I marvelled at how pristine the bike was. I am not sure it had ever been ridden. 

Ilona explained that her Dad bought it just before lockdown with the idea that he would ride to the sea and back. But for one reason and another he never used it. Just like I had with Ava, they had decided that it was sad that it wasn’t being used and wanted it to go to a good home. 

Ilona was happy for me to take it for a test ride. So after a couple of false starts trying to get air in the tyres, we went out for a quick spin up and down the road. To be honest, I had already made my decision. So having quickly checked that the gears changed and the brakes worked, I returned to the garden and said yes please. 


The only thing stopping me now was a rather embarrassing 10 minute phone call with the fraud department of my bank. I am very glad that they were keeping an eye on my account, but I did almost feel like a criminal myself while I was being interrogated and goodness knows what the others thought of my answers to strange questions as we baked in the afternoon sun. 

Finally the money was transferred and we sat for a little longer enjoying the quiet and tranquility of Ilona’s garden. But time was ticking and we had a ferry to catch and an exciting cycle ride to get there. Jo finished playing with the children, then somehow managed to squeeze the large carry bag and all the paperwork onto her rear rack and we bid our new friends farewell. 


We were soon  back in Newport, thankfully Jo had had the presence of mind to have pre-plotted a route. We quickly found the NCN23 back towards Cowes. 

Jo asked me if the bike was to have a name. I had been considering that she was quite Ninja or transformer like, but they didn’t seem very fitting names for such a lovely bike. 



We paused for thought (and some much needed water) by the river. Then inspired by my love of Scotland and our new friend’s Hungarian name, the bike was named 
‘Iona Brompton’




We sped down the squirrel trail and were all too soon back at the ferry terminal. Iona was just perfect. My Nan would have been so pleased to see those little wheels whizzing round and us flying along the path. I’m sure she had a hand in this purchase. 


Jo again guided me in the origami moves enabling Iona to stand on her own four wheels while we waited for the next boat. 


I just kept staring at the bike with a big grin on my face, not quite believing that I own a Brompton.


Both bikes stood quite happily in the racks of the catamaran as we flew back to Southampton. 


Jo patiently talked me through how to fold the bike once more, before the Brompton neatly slipped  behind the drivers seat. I drove home realising that I was still wearing a ridiculous grin. 

One thing I had noticed from the original Facebook photos of the bike, was that there was no way to carry anything.I had taken with me a rucksack and a small handlebar bag to carry keys and phone for the journey back. I also preemptively ordered a front block to allow me to add any Brompton bag to the front. It arrived the very next morning. ‘Brilliant bikes’ really do live up to their name. I watched their install video and after spending a little while practicing some folding and unfolding technics, I fitted the block. 




That was easy! What next? Well the other issue with the ride home was there was nowhere to put my Garmin. Though this wouldn’t be hugely important for most trips, following a route that I didn’t know, would be very difficult. Jo had found an attachment to her stem that was designed to take such devices. I surfed and found one that again arrived very quickly and was easy to install. 




That was really easy too. So all that I needed now was a bag for the front and a rack for the back. I quickly realised that it wouldn’t be easy to choose a bag without actually seeing them. 
So after contacting my local bike shops to see if they stocked anything, I messaged Jo again and we headed up the M3 to Sunningdale and the Brilliant Bikes HQ. 

We met Hannah, the star of their hilarious videos and had lots of really useful advice from the team. I picked up a lovely new bag. some inner tubes and a rear rack to be fitted later. I could have spent a fortune! 



So in less than a week since I sold my other bike, I now have a beautiful Brompton - Iona. I can’t wait to see what adventures await. 

A huge thank you to Ilona and her dad, for offering the bike to me. I will look after her I promise. 
Thank you Jo for all your help, advice and company, decisions are always easier when you have someone to bounce your ideas off. 
And a huge thank you to my Nan for sowing that seed all those years ago, and no doubt having a hand in this purchase too. 


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August 2024 - Saying goodbye to an old friend.



Sometimes it’s hard to say goodbye to a treasured possession and sometimes it is more of a knowing that it’s time to let go. 

Today was one of those days. 

Today, my carbon road bike ‘Ava’ - A Liv Avail Advanced, went to a new home and I wasn’t at all sad. 

Ava arrived via the cycle to work scheme in 2016, she was ordered just after I won the opportunity to complete Ride London - the 100 mile, cyclists equivalent to the London marathon. 

I didn’t have the confidence to do 100 miles on my gravel bike (or cyclocross as it was known as then) so I convinced myself that the only way I could get around within the time limit, would be on a much lighter bike. So after much research and a little nudging from my Nan, the paperwork was completed and the bike ordered  

When she arrived, she was beautiful and so very light. An absolute dream to ride. 

In fact, we have gone a long way together (over 5000 miles according to Strava) - Initially they were short training rides, then Ride London, a number of laps of the Isle of Wight, raising money for Naomi house. There was London to Brighton with the humongous Beacon hill, the many big hills as we crossed the country completing the Sea to Sea, and finally my longest ride ever from Winchester to Brighton and most of the way back. 






It has been a blast! 

But apart from a short spell (2 sessions) on a turbo trainer during the 2020 lockdown, she has not been ridden at all, and that was just a real shame. 

She wasn’t ready to be an exhibit and I don’t have room to have a bike museum, so it was time to get her adopted. 

It took a long time to write and post the advert, but a very short time to receive a response (about 10 minutes I think) and within 24 hours Kirsty had been to see her, been on a quick test ride and decided that this was the bike for her. 

I really do hope Kirsty has as much fun riding this bike as I have and that she covers at least another trouble free (and hopefully pain free) 5000 miles   

Enjoy your new adventures Ava (and Kirsty) and thank you for all the fun times we have had together.









August 2024 - Three go to Salisbury








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

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September 2024 - The one where things don’t quite go to plan

 It was the second Friday in September, and I was heading out of the garden on my bike, nothing unusual there, but this Friday, my bike was ...