Charlene's European Adventure

Charlene's European Adventure 2003
England and Wales

Aug 24th:

Joy was up very early and woke me by dashing about. As she bid me farewell, she said she was very late — I hope she made her flight in time! I dozed a bit longer and then got up because I was starving and also needed to do some laundry before leaving.

A couple hours later I was loaded, and Neil and I cycled down to the train station. I bought my tickets to Caen, Neil wished me well, and I started my trip. From my experiences in Paris already, I had the train system pretty much figured out, but one thing I did struggle with was the bicycle! There are stairs everywhere in those stations and I didn't notice any lifts (or maybe I didn't think to look for them). There were, however, escalators, and I learned very quickly how to haul a heavily loaded bicycle up and down an escalator!

After a couple of transfers, and a bit of a wait, I got onto the train to Caen. There didn't appear to be a bicycle car so I shoved my bicycle into one of the doorways where the larger pieces of luggage are usually stored. Then I sat on the floor beside my bicycle, but the conductor didn't like that. I acted like I didn't understand any French and didn't know what she was talking about, hoping that she would just leave me alone; but one of the other passengers intervened to translate for me, and I had to leave my bicycle there and sit inside. I ended up with green paint on my rear mudguard from the sliding doors on that train!

When I arrived at Caen I wasn't exactly sure how to get to Ouistreham, where the ferry docks are, so I planned to take one of the main highways. But when I asked a ticket counter person, he directed me to a path along the canal . . . with a couple of additional comments: "Ouistreham is ten kilometres away. Are you sure you want to cycle all that way!" While he was telling me the directions he mentioned a bridge and when I asked if I should go over it, he started to laugh and said that he doubted I could cycle up there! Hmmmm. I saw that bridge and it was nothing compared to what I had already been through!

The canal path was quite nice — very flat with lots of people walking, fishing, and cycling. I arrived at Ouistreham about 6 p.m. with some time to spare. While I was waiting, a French couple took a picture of me with my bicycle. I hoped the British riders would come sometime between 7 and 8 p.m., but the first ones didn't appear until closer to 9 p.m. It was a relief to see someone, though, because I was beginning to wonder if I had the date, time, and place correct. Rob and the others arrived about an hour later, and once again the bicycles and motorcycles were allowed to board the ferry first. I grabbed some night gear and we made our way to one of the upper decks. It was very nice up there. The night was clear and we could see Mars quite distinctly — it was the closest to earth it has been in thousands of years. After a brief stop at the bar, we settled down for the night in our sleeping bags on the deck. Despite the fact that we had to move part way through the night because of the loud, annoying music they began playing, and despite the fact that I'm not fond of boats and large bodies of water, I had a pretty good night's sleep.

Canal Road

Waiting at Ouistreham

Aug 25th:

We woke up very early to pack our night gear and then watched as we approached Portsmouth. We were ushered off the ferry, and cycled through Portsmouth to a small 24-hour take-out place for breakfast. After that, we all went our separate ways because it would be easier to transport our bicycles by train if we weren't all together. Rob and I got a train to Reading via Southampton.

Reading was insane! It was a bank holiday in the UK and there was some sort of musical festival going on that weekend. There were hundreds of young people flooding the station and the streets. There were also a number of train lines down and there was no way we could get a train out of Reading so we decided to cycle. The plan was (I think) that we would go around the Chilterns, but we took a wrong turn somewhere and ended up doing a long (135 km), hilly ride for which I was not prepared. The area was beautiful, but I had to walk up a number of the hills. By the time we reached Luton, I was quite relieved to get on a train for the rest of the trip. I was so tired I fell asleep for a while! We arrived in Loughborough ^MAP about 8 p.m. and cycled out to Quorn, another five kms, where Rob and his family lives. I went to bed quite early.

Lion

Aug 26th to 30th:
Rob returned to work, and I slept in quite late each day so I could catch up on my rest and prepare for our Wales tour. During the days I headed out for walks around the area. It was nice to just casually walk instead of doing intense cycling! In the evenings, Rob took me to his favourite bicycle shop, which was quite different from the modern ones I'm used to here in Winnipeg, and we went out to some of the local pubs. I purchased a fleece top because I discovered that it was actually quite cool at night, and I thought I just might appreciate it later in Wales (and I did!). We also set up our bicycles for the tour and although I was already a bit concerned about the hills/mountains in that area, I knew I was in deep trouble when Rob indicated that he would be using a geared bicycle for this trip!!
England

Aug 31st:

Rob got me up early Sunday morning so we could cycle with his CTC group. We sprinted into Loughborough ^MAP to meet them, and then, fortunately, took the rest of the ride at a slower, more leisurely pace. I had ridden with this CTC group last November so it was nice to see them and ride with them again. We meandered down to Rutland, England's smallest county, through little lanes, both paved and gravelled, to Wymondham ^MAP windmill where we stopped for tea. Then we continued on to a pub in Exton ^MAP where we stopped for lunch, and I was talked into participating in the British cyclist's form of calorie consumption. And later we stopped at another café for tea. Then we returned home and spent the evening packing.

During the ride, Rob and the others had been discussing the route we were planning to take for our trip to Wales and they all seemed to think I would have some difficulty with it. This got me to thinking that it might not be a bad idea to leave some stuff behind, and get Rob to mail it to me later. A lighter load would make my bicycle easier to handle out there! I removed quite a few things from my panniers which succeeded in making them a bit lighter. Meanwhile Rob was loading up the things he wanted to take . . . and moaning about how heavy it was. Evidently he doesn’t usually bring that much stuff!

Sept 1st:

We got off to a slow start about 10 am. It was a coolish morning, and I made the mistake of wearing my jacket even though I knew that within a few kilometres, we would be climbing Beacon Hill. ^MAP By the time I got to the top of it, I was drenched. However, I did make it to the top without stopping, on a loaded touring bicycle, which is better than I did when I tried that hill last November. It is really beautiful in that area and I enjoyed the scenery as we cycled along. Then we arrived at Whitwick. ^MAP Many of the towns in Europe are built on top of hills, and this one was no exception. This hill was particularly steep and the road ended at an intersection. As I approached the top, I was going very slowly and when Rob yelled out that there was a car coming, I didn’t have time to unclip, so I toppled over. What a great way to start a tour! I landed pretty solidly on my right elbow, and my bicycle, with all its weight, landed on my right leg. However, after a few minutes, I was all right to continue. Not too long after, Rob flatted and we took a little time to fix that.

We stopped for lunch at a café in Rugeley, ^MAP just north of Birmingham. Then we made our way through Cannock Chase, a lovely forest, on a rather busy road with animal warning signs that caught my attention – they looked for all the world like they were depicting moose! I wasn’t aware that there were any moose in England!

We stopped in Shifnal ^MAP for some groceries before dropping into the River Severn valley at Coalport, ^MAP near Brunel's Ironbridge (birthplace of the Industrial Revolution ). From there we climbed steeply up to Broseley ^MAP and then up onto Wenlock Edge, ^MAP and on to Church Stretton [Also see MAP]. We knew, from the map, that there was a campground in the area but weren't sure where and cycled back and forth between Church Stretton and Little Stretton before finally locating it. We reached camp in Little Stretton about 7 p.m., having covered 150 kms. It was a nice little place nestled among some hills with a stream running past on one side.

In true British form, Rob started up the campstove and boiled water for tea before we set anything else up. We pitched the tent near the stream, unloaded our bicycles, made supper (well, Rob made supper), and went to sleep. Unfortunately some noisy campers from Birmingham disturbed us — in fact we encountered "Brummies" on holiday everywhere. Rob figured that if someone went to Birmingham during that week, they would find it deserted. I was very cold during the night.

First Campground
First Campground
First Campground
Long Mynd in Distance

Sept 2nd:

We were up early, but took our time packing and getting ready, so we were a bit late setting off. Our first stop was in Church Stretton to look for some tourist information and then we headed for the Long Mynd, a long, large hill. Rob had warned me about this hill, but I don't think I was prepared for it, having never seen a road that steep before. We climbed it by way of Asherton Bank — a 25% grade! We were cycling nicely on a comfortable road, then crossed a little bridge, and Rob yelled back, "Shift into your granny now". I didn't even bother. I knew there was no hope for me. Instead I dismounted and started to walk. The climb was perhaps about a half mile long, but it took us a long time to get up. We would walk a bit, and then I'd have to stop and catch my breath and calm my heart rate down. At first I told Rob that I wasn't resting, I was only stopping to take pictures; later I was just resting. Eventually we made it to the top and it was beautiful, with the hills and valleys in the distance and the purple heather over the slopes nearby. After the Long Mynd came the Stiperstones, and we could see the stones along the ridge as we climbed up.

Church Stretton

Road Up Long Mynd	Road Up Long Mynd	Top Long Mynd
Rob at top of Long Mynd — 25% Grade	Charlene at the top of Long Mynd

Then we descended down a very steep incline, about a 20% grade, that I also considered walking! However, I rode it, but used my front brake, (the one I used in the flatlands of Manitoba) so much that it started to make a funny hissing noise and my rim got too hot to touch. Subsequently, Rob kept after me not to use my brakes so much on descents, because the heat from the rim could explode the "tyre."

I was more than ready for a stop when we reached a pub at a place called Bridges. ^MAP There were more climbs along the small lanes as we made our way to Montgomery, where we passed into Wales ("Welcome to Wales", or "Crosoe y Gymru" if you prefer) and we stopped for groceries and fuel for the night. Then there were more climbs on our way to Abermule. ^MAP The thing I remember most about these climbs is that they always seemed to occur after a cattle gate. Cattle gates are holes which have been dug in the road, with metal bars installed over them. They are designed to prevent cattle, or in this case, sheep, from getting out through the road. They are also designed to give a bicycle a very rough ride. There was no way I could build up any speed for upcoming hills when I had to slow down in order to cross the gate.

We started looking for a place to stay for the night in the Abermule area and were directed to a campsite behind a pub — something fairly common in Wales. In Canada, that would not be a recommended thing to do. Rob and I made our way to the suggested campsite, but neither of us felt comfortable with the idea of staying there. At that point, however, I would have given a lot for a sit-down meal, and I think I was getting a little grouchy. We stopped down the lane and Rob told me to eat my peach, but it didn't help much. A little farther on, up more hills, he flatted again which was frustrating for both of us. I know I was getting pretty tired by then.

Toward End Of Day 2

Shortly after that, though, we reached a main road which took us through Bwlch-y-ffridd, and I wished again to stop and eat, but it was sort of getting late, and we needed to find the campsite which the map promised was there. We continued up a little road and about the time I thought we should be nearing the campsite, I looked up, saw another steeper hill ahead, and thought that I really did not want to climb another hill that day. At that moment, I glanced to my right and saw the sign for the campsite.

It was a sheep farm (with a pair of nasty dogs but they were in a truck) so we ventured into the camping area and talked to one of the campers. Leaving our bicycles, we hiked up to the house to see if the owner was there . . . and then ran back down again when we saw a truck pull into the yard. It felt sort of nice to be off the bicycle! There we met Dilwyn, with his mop of curly grey hair and big grin, who told us to make ourselves at home, and mind our step. I was exhausted and never so relieved to see a campsite in my life! I didn't even care that we were pitching in the middle of a sheep pasture. I can't remember what Rob fed me for supper — it didn't matter, it was food and I was desperately hungry! We covered only 82 kms that day, but Welsh kms are different from normal ones because they all go straight up or down, and we travelled at one of two speeds — 4 mph or 40 mph!

We watched the stars for a bit — they were so clear up there on the mountain. I wished I were more familiar with the night sky. Because I had been so cold the night before, I decided to wrap my feet in my towel instead of using it as a mattress. (Always know where your towel is!) It didn't help much — I was still cold. Shortly after we dozed off, the dogs started barking and woke us up. They barked for quite a while, and then all of a sudden there was a shot from the direction of the house . . . and silence! The intruder, the fox, or the barking dog had been taken care of!!

Second Campground

Sept 3rd: We were wakened at dawn by the Sheep Chorus, and a collection of sheep probably surprised to find a tent in their breakfast pasture. Until this trip, I had never realized that each sheep has a different voice or that they are so loud! Rob fed me curry for breakfast and later we headed down to Caersws ^MAP where we bought our second breakfast — sausage rolls, and I had a nice nougat thing I haven't been able to find here in Canada. To Rhayader

Then we cycled down a fairly main, and thus flat, highway to Rhayader where we set up camp in a campground complete with good shower facilities. We went into Rhayader ^MAP to get groceries (where I bought the UK version of flapjacks for the first time; they are very different from the American version, and I liked them) and lunch.

Third Campground

In the afternoon, we set off on a mountain road to Cwmystwyth with unloaded bicycles. It was so nice to ride without the panniers for a while. It was very remote out there, mainly just us, thousands of sheep, a few buzzards, and the occasional dark blue car (they didn't seem to come in many other colours in Wales). We had to ride cautiously in places because of those sheep! A mother and lamb dashed out in front of Rob in one place, causing him to jam on his brakes and skid to a stop. Then on the way back, while I was trying to climb a hill, a whole collection of them started running up the road in front of me and it sort of looked like I was herding them along.

Charlene to Cwymystwyth

Rob to Cwymystwyth

On the way we passed the Cwmystwyth Mine, an old, abandoned lead-zinc mine which shows evidence of dating back to Roman times. Good job we didn't drink the water from the stream, but I wonder a bit about those sheep. The remains of the buildings, possibly built in the 1700s, are made of the stones in the area and almost look a little eerie against the hillside. We went a little past where those stone buildings were, and then we started climbing fairly seriously again, and I had to walk. We were hoping to make it to Devil's Bridge, but Rob decided we couldn't make it there and back before dark, so we turned around and took a road through the Elan valley around Craig-Goch and Caban-Goch reservoirs.

Cwymystwyth

Cwymystwyth Mine

Cwymystwyth Mine

Along that road, there were a couple of dams built in the late 1800s, with some interesting architectural detailing, and we cycled out onto one. I noticed all the insects in the air first, and then all the swifts darting about. I don't think I've ever seen swifts before. I really liked that road because it reminded me of the mountains I'm familiar with — higher with lots of pine trees (even if they looked a bit like they had been planted there and weren't doing so well) I thought that area was beautiful.

Road to Elan Valley

Elan Valley

We returned to Rhayader, after covering 106 kms, and Rob fed me a canned mixture of Irish stew and curry. Then we watched the stars for quite a while before bed. One of the things I like about Randonneuring and touring is that we have the opportunity to appreciate such a range of wonders of nature at all times of the day or night. On this night, I tried another idea to keep warm. I pulled my arm warmers over my feet and wore a couple extra layers on top and it helped a bit. However, if Rob hadn't pointed out that I was still wearing the floppy arm warmers on my feet when I got up, I would probably have landed flat on my face when I tried to get out of my tent.

Sept 4th:

I missed the sheep waking us up! We showered for the first time in days, and I discovered I could have used a larger towel. I also "retired" the pair of shorts I'd been wearing for three days straight and started on a clean pair. What luxury! We packed up and Rob fed us a couple canned breakfasts.

Then we cycled to Builth Wells where we stopped at a fish and chip shop. After that we followed the Wye, ^MAP crossed at Erwood bridge, and on to Hay-on-Wye — the town of books! I checked it on the Internet when I got home and it appears that there are 36 bookshops and it didn't really look like a very large town. The streets were lined with them! We stopped at a pub for a drink, at a cafe for jacket potatoes, at a couple of the shops, briefly at the local castle, and then at a grocery store where we got groceries including a bottle of wine, which Rob made me carry. I really liked Hay-on-Wye and would love to return there again to explore the bookshops.

Bicycles At Erwood Bridge

Wye at Erwood Bridge

From there we climbed up Gospel Pass and passed Haybluff in the Black Mountains. I had to walk up part of Gospel Pass and Rob wondered if something had happened to me. YES! It had! He was killing me again with another monster hill with a 25% grade!! However, it really was very beautiful up there (once I could breathe and my heart rate had dropped to something reasonable again). I took quite a few pictures. Very shortly we began descending. I looked at my computer just as we started, and again at the bottom. We descended for about 12 kilometres! I really liked that part as it wasn't a steep or technical descent, and the road was lovely with trees lining both sides and the setting sun shinning through them making the road look golden.

Haybluff Area

Haybluff

Rob at Top of Gospel Pass

Start of 12Km Descent

We reached Cwmyoy, ^MAP and began climbing through the town looking for the road we wanted. Rob disappeared up ahead and I decided to walk. Near the top, the road was probably about 25% again, and a bit gravelly. When Rob reached the top, he wasn't sure where to go and so he stopped to ask a lady, walking a horse, for directions. Meanwhile I came around the corner and was having trouble pushing my bicycle because of the gravel and the grade; I kept sliding back. While Rob was getting directions, I stopped and tried to hold my bicycle but couldn't, so I glanced to the left and saw a small flat place next to a house. To feel more secure, I turned my bicycle and wedged it and me onto the flat place where there was some sort of drainage thing. We determined that we had taken the wrong road, and had to go back down! Rob headed down the really steep part with all the ease of a mountain goat. I manoeuvred my bicycle onto the road (sideways to the road now), and attempted to point it down the hill, but as soon as I did so, my feet started to slip and the bicycle threatened to shoot down the hill on it's own dragging me with it. I backed into the flat spot again and called down, "I'm stuck! If I'm not down in about two minutes, you might have to come up and get me!" "Just put on your brakes and watch your step," Rob called back. Cautiously I pushed my bicycle back onto the road, jammed on the brakes and pointed the bicycle down the hill again. This time it only felt like it was going to skid a bit, and I discovered that if I stepped with my feet sideways to the hill (as we do in Canada when we're climbing a hill on cross country skis) I had more traction (the cleats in front don't lend themselves to a lot of traction). Very slowly I made my way down the hill, and a few minutes later (probably more than 2), I was finally at a point where the road wasn't as steep. Meanwhile Rob had gone on ahead, and when I caught up to him, he was making a phone call at a roadside phone booth! (Was he calling mountain rescue?)

We continued down to a farm, went on up the hill and out of the farm, and then returned to the farm where we asked if we could spend the night. The very posh lady in the large house (who didn't own the place it turned out) graciously allowed us to pitch in the field but wouldn't let us use the toilet. We had covered 85 kms that day. Once again, we shared a field with sheep, but it was quite pleasant out there beside the stream. We both took a picture of the moon over the ridge — mine would have turned out better if my camera had a zoom on it.

Fourth Campground

Rob fed me Irish stew mixed with Chilli (which had quite an effect on us the next day), and the stew contained tripe. I didn't know what tripe was and he wouldn't tell me until I finished, hoping I would just eat it, but without knowing it, I had picked out all the tripe as something I didn't want to eat. On this night, I decided to put my space blanket and rain cape under my sleeping bag to see if I could get some extra warmth. I don't know why I hadn't thought of that before. I also used Rob's Gore-Tex jacket as an extra blanket and for the first night out I was actually comfortable.

Fourth Campground

Sept 5th:

The sheep in this pasture didn’t come very close to us and were fairly quiet in the morning. We made do without "proper" toilet facilities and did our washing up in the stream. Then we packed up and cycled on to Abergavenny where we stopped at a pub and had lunch – potato jackets. From Abergavenny we climbed for a while, and part way up the clouds which had been threatening for a while, decided to rain. This was my first chance to use the rain covers on my panniers and they seemed to work all right.

We had hoped to be able to find and see White Castle, and started down a little lane to find it but somehow took a wrong turn and missed it. So we decided to head into Monmouth. It's on the border and varies between being English and Welsh. We stopped at a diner-like place, and then did some grocery shopping for the night. The town was very busy and the traffic was bumper-to-bumper, so to get around we walked the bicycles which I appreciated doing. It was good to get off my bicycle for a bit. We walked up to the ruins of the castle and had a look around. It was the birthplace of Henry V. I really enjoyed seeing some of the historical places because we don’t have that sort of thing here in Canada. I hadn’t been feeling too well when I arrived in Monmouth, but I started feeling better by the time we left.

After Monmouth we climbed to the Forest of Dean, another lovely place on our route. This hill was long but more gradual and I feel much more comfortable on climbs like that — they are similar to headwinds. We ended up camping at Christchurch ^MAP after 62 kms of cycling.

The campground we stopped at had two levels and we chose the lower level, Bracelands, but camped as high as we could there, next to a pressure-washer tap. Once again there were noisy "Brummies" near by. (If it wasn’t sheep, it was "Brummies"!). I don’t remember what we ate, but I do remember that we drank a Belgian Blonde beer, a sweetish one that was quite good. Maybe that’s why I don’t remember what we ate! I set up my bed the way I had on the previous night and was quite warm and comfortable.

Fifth Campground

Sept 6th:: Rob and I packed up for the final time, headed up out of the campground, and then south toward Bristol. We went past Clearwell Caves and on to a castle that had been converted into a Youth Hostel at St. Briavels, and then had a meal at the George, a 16th century inn just outside the castle. We had potato jackets there, and stayed a while, sitting in the garden. It was nice even though it did keep getting hot and cold and sprinkling occasionally.

Charlene at the George

Arch at St. Briavels

Rob at St. Briavels; Then we cycled through some rain to Chepstow, back in Wales, for the last meal of the trip at Tescos. We were just going to stop at that grocery store so I could use the toilet and Rob could use the bank machine; but when he went inside, he saw the cafeteria area and we decided to have another meal there.

There was one more significant climb just after Chepstow, ^MAP and that was the last hill I walked on our hiking, I mean cycling, trip! From Chepstow, we went across the River Severn on the old bridge, past Olveston, ^MAP and on into Bristol, where we were temporarily lost. We found our way to the station eventually, only to discover that we couldn’t get the train we wanted, and that the next train out wasn’t running. However, we did get on a train to Paddington sometime around 7 p.m., and stored our bicycles in a guard car toward the back.

The Last Hill

It was a fairly uneventful train ride, and along the way Rob pointed out one of the old white horse carvings in the chalk of the hillside at Uffington. It has been dated as having been carved about 3000 years ago.

After we arrived at Paddington Station, I got a whirlwind tour of London. I'm convinced Rob was either a bicycle messenger or London cabbie in a past life!! We rolled out the door of the station, Rob quickly consulted his map, glanced at my compass, turned my rear light on for me, told me to keep up, and blasted off! My first impression of London was the black taxicabs! There was a whole pile of them in the station, and they were just like the pictures I’d seen. I thought that was really cool . . . until one of them tried to run Rob over. My second impression of London was that there were a lot of people walking around! After dark, people don’t walk in the downtown areas here. But it was the same thing in Paris too – people filling the sidewalks even after the sun went down.

The little high-speed nocturnal tour of the capital took in quite a few landmarks. Rob checked the street plan when he got home and we were both amazed at the number of attractions we flew past in the dark. As far as the route went, he picked out the shortest distance between Paddington and Waterloo. We went straight to Hyde Park, left onto the Bayswater Rd. to Marble Arch, right along Park Lane to Wellington Arch, where Rob stopped and asked directions, giving me a moment to catch my breath before we raced off again. We then went down Constitution Hill which is the Queen's driveway, straight past Buckingham Palace all the way up to Trafalgar Sq. and Nelson's Column. We turned right down Whitehall past all the parliament buildings, the Ministry of Defence, the Treasury and the end of Downing St. We saw Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament just beyond, and the London Eye on the embankment of the Thames. Then we crossed Westminster Bridge and finally got to Waterloo station. I wasn't expecting a sightseeing tour of London at the end my holiday!

Rob told me, " I thought this was a perfect way to end your holiday, as you started by seeing one great European capital, Paris and ended by seeing another, London with quite a varied and, I hope, interesting expanse of Europe in between. I think the best tours always have a theme or some sort of symmetry to them. This one certainly had with London and Paris visited."

When we got to Waterloo, we had to move quickly to get my ticket, and within a matter of minutes, I had boarded my train, said good-bye to Rob, and was off. The train rolled out into the night, and I sat in the nearly empty car, holding my bicycle, and feeling quite alone and a bit frightened. In the haste to catch the train, I couldn't call my friends in Chatham to let them know I was coming. I had given their phone number to Rob and hoped that he was able to get through to them, but I didn't know for sure if they would be there, since it would be fairly late when I arrived. I also knew that Chatham at night isn't one of the better places to be. It was hard to see the station signs as we pulled into and out of them and I didn't have a map to let me know how far we had gone. I estimated that the trip would take about 1.5 hours, and when that time had gone by, and I wasn't there yet, or close to anything that looked right, I began to be concerned that I might have boarded the wrong train. For the next half-hour I anxiously peered out the window to see if I could catch a glimpse of station signs and was finally very relieved to see the Rochester sign, which is the station before Chatham. I got off the train at Chatham and followed closely behind a small group of people to the front of the station where everyone dispersed and I was left alone.

I debated about trying to find my way to the house in the dark but changed my mind and decided to call instead. They were home and were expecting me. I was told to stay right where I was and Geoff would be there in ten minutes. While I waited, there were quite a number of taxis in front of the station, which provided me a measure of comfort because there were also a number of groups of young men wandering about. A few of them approached me wanting to know what I was doing there, and who I was waiting for. It was slightly less than ten minutes when Geoff pulled up, but it felt like a lot longer than that! We managed to get my bicycle and all my packs in the car and in a few minutes we were back at the house. I unloaded everything, ate a light supper, and went to bed.

Sept 7th:

I was up fairly early, had breakfast and then Geoff took me south on a sightseeing tour of the Dover castle. First we went on a tour of the tunnels that were used during WWII. They have set them up like they were back then, complete with sound and smell effects! We walked up to the Roman lighthouse built in the second half of the first century AD. Then we made our way over to Henry II's Keep built about 1190. The various rooms of the Keep were set up to depict various periods of the castle's life. It was all very interesting!

Dover Castle Roman Tower

Dover Castle

When we returned to Chatham we headed out for supper at Jon's brother's house — a converted oast house. Long ago oast houses were used to dry and pack the hops for the brewery trade; more recently most of them have been converted into houses. I was made to feel very welcome there. Later that evening I took apart my bicycle and put it into the case and packed the rest of my things into a duffel bag in preparation for my return to Canada. I went to bed fairly early.

Oast House

Sept 8th:

I was up early and we headed to Heathrow so I could catch my plane. Traffic was light and we arrived earlier than planned. The drop-off area was absolutely jammed with cars so I hopped out, grabbed a trolley, hastily loaded my things and then joined the long, long queue to check-in. Much later I made it to the desk and then, free of my luggage and with a lot of time on my hands, I wandered around the airport. As often happens when I have time to browse through gift shops, I spotted a little bicycle ornament which I had to purchase.

The flight from Heathrow to Toronto was good. The staff was quick and courteous, we were well fed and well treated. Once I arrived in Toronto, however, the situation deteriorated quickly. At the Toronto airport passengers are herded into a low, darkish basement and ordered to collect their luggage from the small carousel and haul it through customs. If you are unfortunate enough not to have a Loony (the Canadian one dollar coin), you will not be able to acquire a dolly and will have to carry your luggage. My duffel bag appeared on carousel, but not my bicycle case. I anxiously waited for it to appear with one eye watching the clock — I was cutting it pretty close for making my connecting flight. After a bit, I guessed it wasn't coming around and figured that perhaps they had put it elsewhere. I was right. It was in the middle of the floor about three carousels over. Fortunately it had wheels, because it was a long hike to the customs area with my heavy luggage. Then I ran into trouble. Because I had spent some time on a farm in Wales, and might possibly encounter a farm in Canada, the customs officials wanted to take everything apart. Originally they wanted everything out of my bicycle case so they could inspect it, but they finally settled for just taking my wheels and mudguards out to spray them with disinfectant before letting me go. By the time we had done all that, I had missed my connecting flight. Fortunately I was able to rebook on a later flight. I arrived in Winnipeg about 11:30 pm and was able to fit my bicycle case into a taxi. I bribed the taxi driver to help me upstairs with it, and I was home by midnight. It was an adventure from start to finish, but it was the best vacation I think I've ever had.

Main Page	Trip to France	Paris-Brest-Paris Ride

In true British form, Rob started up the campstove and boiled water for tea before we set anything else up. We pitched the tent near the stream, unloaded our bicycles, made supper (well, Rob made supper), and went to sleep. Unfortunately some noisy campers from Birmingham disturbed us — in fact we encountered "Brummies" on holiday everywhere. Rob figured that if someone went to Birmingham during that week, they would find it deserted. I was very cold during the night.
First Campground	First Campground	First Campground Long Mynd in Distance