Day 13 - Hailes to Home, 95.91 miles

Hayles Fruit Farm was a great campsite run by a very friendly lady who, I assume, was the matriach of operations, referring to 'her' cider. She kindly opened the shop so that I could buy a bottle - and it was very good. If you support locally produced food, the shop seemed large and well-stocked, so worth a proper visit; the site of Hailes Abbey (ruin) is also nearby, managed by English Heritage.


I managed to leave at 7 am crossing quickly from Gloucestershire to Worcestershire; more hills and some quite amazing villages on the way to Chipping Camden. Snowshill has a lavender farm and distillery, and the smell of the lavender growing in several great fields was amazing; it must be even more so when it's in flower.

Chipping Camden describes itself as one of the most 'beautiful tourist destinations in the UK' and I don't think they're overstating it; it really is. I imagine it must have been used as a film set for some Austen or Shakespearian thing, surely no film maker could let all those twisted chimneys, stone buildings with carved pillars and gargoyles pass. I think a relaxing weekend in a 14th century inn with exposed beams and open fires might be called for at some point...

Onwards East and over another border, back into Warwickshire and Shipston on Stour where I picked up bike route 5 (a mixture of bridleways and off-road hard path) to Banbury. Skirted the edge of Banbury around industrial estates and the train station. (National Bike Routes pick the quietest roads but not necessarily the most scenic). Crossed the M40 and was then in Northamptonshire! Although I'd only done just over 42 miles by that point (and had guessed that it would be about 100 miles from Hailes to home) it did feel like progress. But it was 1pm, so there was a long afternoon ahead.

The hills eased off somewhat and the mileage picked up from 7 miles in an hour to ten. I got into a zone, as happens when running and zipped through South Northants with barely a glance; Sulgrave, Weedon Lois, Wappenham, Abthorpe. Went around Towcester and past the racecourse onto Shutlanger (3pm, 62.7 miles) towards Stoke Bruerne. I took a photo of the signpost there, because this bit of road up to Blisworth represented an end of the loop in itself; I'd come up this road from the other direction on Day 5 heading West.

Blisworth was the proposed end for today and it was as well I was planning to continue, as 3:30 pm would otherwise have been an early stop (66 miles at that point). In the zone again, nodding to Quinton, Hackleton, Horton, then onto more familiar ground at Castle Ashby and Mears Ashby. There are some long roads around here too, and it was now 5pm, 83.5 miles down. It was starting to get painful and the average speed dropped below steady 10 mph at about this point. I'd done what was a normal day's riding, and the body was protesting at doing more. My hands were particularly sore from 13 days of either leaning on or pulling on the handlebars.

Onwards and upwards, literally now, continuing north to Little Harrowden, Orlingbury and Pytchley - a place I was only vaguely aware of as a name of one of Kettering's industrial estates, and having gone through it I'm afraid it really is that non-memorable. Over the bridge at the A43 and suddenly I was back in town, on familiar streets, with only a couple of miles to the front door. After a gloomy and dull day all day, the sun had come out, and it was good to be back. I would like to have done 100 miles (I like round figures) but wasn't going for a trip round the block to get the extra 4 miles in! Enough is enough. Job done.

Day 13 - Hailes to home - 95 odd miles

Home. Not the flattest, not the prettiest or the most historic, nor the wettest place that I've been through... but home. Will do the full write up later. I'm a little tired - nearly 100 miles in under 12 hours, not too bad. I have pizza and the unpacking can wait.

Thank God for a safe journey.
non nobis

In Northamptonshire!

Just crossed the M40 at Banbury into Northants. Feels like I'm nearly home.

Day 12 WernGifford to Hailes, 80 m

Another tough day, especially getting out of Wales ( morning). Saw the White Castle and followed the Offas Dyke path on and off to the Severn. Bypassed Monmouth and crossed the Severn on Redbrook footbridge into England. ( Considerably fewer occurrences of the letter 'l' on signposts!) Weather quite good, even some occasional sunshine.
Long hard haul to Coleford and Cinderford and through the Forest of Dean. Ran out of energy completely; barely moving at 3 mph. Had a Lucozade shot ( caffeine and malic acid) which helped a bit, but legs ache so much now.
Into flatter country and Cotswolds, some lovely villages. Camped at a fruit farm - and managed to buy some of their own cider. Now that's local!

Day 11: Gorslas to Pandy, 76.77 m

Well first I have to say that before I started out this morning, I was as close as I think I've ever come to packing it all in, ringing for rescue and just going home. I was seriously dreaming of home comforts, was fed up of the rain and another wild night didn't help. I do wonder this unusually foul weather is part of the hurricane affecting North America.

I think last night was the worst this trip, mainly down to the very high winds that pulled my little tent around in all directions, and also the rain which was extremely heavy at times - even allowing for the fact that it always sounds worse in a tent. I must have got some sleep, but it didn't feel like it, and all I could think about was tomorrow's stage, over the Black Mountain - the very name gives one pause. So I looked out at the campsite at 6:30, with the trees bent over in the wind, the flag pole waving about and the rain driving across in waves and thought: I'm going out in THAT?

It took all my resources to get packed up and on the road, but my reasoning was that it would take half a day to get to me so at least I could give it an hour or so and see how things went. I certainly wasn't prepared to stay at the campsite!

So with all waterproofs on, I went into the darkness of 7am - it really was dark, more like October than September. Saw a man walking his dog and we said hello with those  ' aren't we idiots to be out in this' faces.

It was hilly again right from the off, and the roads were covered with smashed up leaves, twigs, cones and fruits. How little birds like sparrows got through a night like that, I don't know. All the streams were overflowing and the rivers thick with dirty reddish brown mud.

Took advice from Andy on the route and cut over the mountain from Trap to Pont Aber, passing the distant ruins of  Carreg castle on the hill. Then more hills - tried to keep pedalling through the rain - and then a cattle grid and suddenly I was on moorland, among sheep. I like moorland and this helped lift the spirits.

Crossed the other cattle grid and was now in the Brecon Beacons National Park and in wood land. My route was on tracks, but given the conditions, I stayed on the road.

Had a few problems with my route to Brecon and ended up crossing the A40 to Trallong - another hill - and got into Brecon on the B road.

And that was the worst of it done. It had stopped raining, so I found an outside cafe where I could have lunch before pushing on.

Took bike route 8 out of town, the Taff trail, which starts by going along the Monmouthshire and Brecon canal. How good to have some flat going for once.
Hit the B4558 to Pencelli to Crickhowell. Talybont on Usk was very pretty with everything a traveller needs; shop, cash point, campsite and B&B.
Made the 8 miles to Crickhowell in very good time and then had a last bit of the Black Mountain ( over Sugar Loaf) to contend with. The steep long drags uphill were one thing, but route finding another; as usual my route had given out on the GPS, so I had to work out which way to go the old fashioned way. And Pandy proved a difficult and elusive place to get to.  After the GPS ( on ' find next town' mode) ordered me to do a U turn at each end of the same bit of road I gave up and took an unmade steep rough farm track that went in the right direction, which involved a deep and muddy puddle. I think that was the first time I realised that my feet had actually managed to dry out during the course of the day.
Anyway made it, thanks be to God, and just two days left now, as I'm now on the English border.  Still hoping to push on and finish on Thursday. But now Wales is done, I think the hardest bit is over.

Day 10. Pelcomb Bridge to Gorlas, 60.98 m

What a wild night last night was! It was so windy I got up at about midnight to put in extra pegs, and was convinced my bike cover was blowing away. Didn't get much sleep, especially when it rained - sounded like hail it was so loud. Must have got some sleep, as woke late and got away at 7:30 only by compressing a 1.5 hour morning routine into one hour. Taking the tent down ( it was still windy) was an interesting procedure, rather like flying a very unwieldy kite at one point.

First morning riding east with the sun in my eyes, and there was a sun; a bit watery, but there. Hoped it would continue.

Crossed the main road to Camrose and through lots of tiny places on very minor and very quiet roads.  The wind dropped though the sky was still interesting, so it was a lovely morning.

The first rain shower came at about 25 mile mark but soon cleared; had a few like that.

Got to St Clears for lunch and also my first shop of the day, so stocked up on Lucozade. Found a charity shop to hand a book in and replace it, and sat by a wooden carving, nearly life size, of the Rebecca Riots, where men wore dresses and blacked their faces and destroyed the toll- gates. Had my lunch there in the sun.

When I left, did up my jacket and found I couldn't. The zip has completely gone on it.  Tried taping it with duct tape ( such a good look, expect to see it in all next year's collections) but the tape wouldn't stick, though it did keep catching my hair.

This was annoying; I could hardly cycle in the rain trying to hold my jacket together. Took bike route into Camarthenn, found a Field & Trek and bought a lightweight running jacket. It swamps me, but can go over my other one.

Camarthen is a big place with some decent shops but there was nothing else I wanted - except to try to leave, which wasn't easy. Found the right route and was glad to be out of the city.

Cloudy and dull from then on.  Some steepish hills, but managed to keep cycling up most of them. Made good time to campsite by 5:30.
Looks like a really tough day tomorrow over the Black Mountains but then should be out of Wales and things should be easier. I think the forecast for tomorrow is also not good, and in fact the rain has set in now.

Made it!

This is as close as I get to St Davids Head - if the bike can't go there, neither will I. Just a week since Lowestoft. Amazing. But then as some joker said, if you're going to take up cross county skiing, start with a small country...

Day 9: Tufton to Pelcomb Bridge, 48.28m

Strange how soon what is taken for granted becomes commonplace; a bed, electricity; warmth. It's been lovely. Had a cooked breakfast and still managed to get away just after 7 am. The sun was up and there was an inversion in the valley; it was full of mist down there but clear where I was. Neville predicted it would burn off later.
Set off and it was cold! Not complaining as it was dry, but very chilly. It was such a good start to the day, leaving a lovely place and people like that. Those I met on the road to say ' good morning' were not so friendly. Most often, all I got by way of a response was a level stare. Was it because I was female, a cyclist, English/ outsider, or do folk not say hello to each other here?
Lots of dairy farming here. Stopped to watch a herd taken from parlour to field, was overtaken by a milk tanker, and a few miles out of St Davids, rode carefully on a road where it was clear that cattle had recently passed. Down the road saw said cattle ( including a very young calf) and the farmer tying up the gate with string. Since his vehicle completely blocked the narrow road, I stopped. No rush, I said as he dashed back. Late for church, he said Interesting.
A mile or so further on, saw lots of cars parked by the side of the road, and then heard a bell start to ring. I asked a lady walking behind me if a service was about to start - it was 9:30 - and would I be welcome? So it was that in Wales, hot- bed of Methodism, I ended up going to a C of E ( Wales) service.
The church was lovely; small, plain, white, decorated with flowers and the sun streaming in over the table. I had my shell jacket, so didn't look too violently fluorescent.
Turned out it was a special service as their vicar was moving to a new parish, but I was still made welcome ( and even managed to cope with communion!).
It was still sunny and warm; the mist had indeed burned off. It was good to feel the sun on my back and to see my shadow in front of me - for the last day, as if there is any sun from now on, my shadow will be behind me!

The ' if' regarding sunshine...
Got to St Davids and went to White sands Bay, which is the closest to St Davids Head that you can go with a bike.  Looked at the sea, full of surfers today as the wind was up, had my pic taken by a kind German tourist, and felt - well rather flat actually. That's part of the problem with arbitrary points. There is no signpost to say ' you've done it! Thus far and no further'. It didn't help that it was now starting to rain.
Visited St Justinians and then went into St Davids. A wet Sunday afternoon does not do any town any favours. Looked for somewhere to change my book as I've read both my disposable novels, but no luck. Stopped for ale and cake by way of celebration, for a given value of ' celebration'. And then took bike route 4 out of town, in the pouring rain.
I mentally apologised to Jean as all the gear that had dripped and dried on her Rayburn soaked through again. And I have to say I was annoyed that the wind was still in my face - and with a steep downhill, the rain really stings.  Kept a line of song going: Soon enough/ Soon enough/ This will all be a memory...
Went past Newgale and its campsite which I noticed was heavily puddled, yet there were tents up. Not too wet there, then.
The surf was really rolling now and there were lots of people out, windsurfing and also surfing with kites. I bet they got some speed up.
Through Nolton and on to Pelcomb Bridge which has campsite with pub ( note the order of priority). £10 isn't cheapest but I got a decent dinner and a head start on tomorrow.  Really want to push on and get home now.
By the way, it did stop raining!

Day 8: Cilycwm to Tufton, 67.8 miles

Woke early, much rested, packed as quietly as possible and was on road at 6:30. Slightly concerned to hear very faint noise of moisture pattering on the tent, but it was just a thin bit of cloud.
Set off to grapple with the hills again, much the same as yesterday only with slightly more energy. Still walking up most of them though! One bit was just constant up and down so to stay cycling I was changing gears every few seconds. Using the granny ring most of the time now. ( This is the smallest ring on the triple and best for getting up steep hills ( albeit very slowly - did you know it's possible to cycle at less than 3mph?) but I prefer Toria's explanation of a granny ring as a group of old ladies that help me up hills. I like the idea of octegenarian domestiques!J.
The mist got a bit thicker, more of a mizzle, but in essence I was still only in a cloud. And gradually it got wetter and wetter until it could be said to be raining, and then having got the hang of it, it set to raining in earnest.
I'm afraid that nearly all the villages I went through looked the same, and even thought I'd gone wrong and ended back at a previous one at one point. Will add the place names later, it's not easy on this. Did go into Llandysul for food as wasn't sure of finding a shop further on. Found a Nisa and got a hot pork chop, chicken leg and cheese and onion pasty for lunch. And more Welshcakes! They never last long. Had most of it there in the car park. Never ceases to amaze me, the hunger that cycling generates. Unfortunately being hungry is not always synonymous with wanting to eat.
Up more hills, through more Forestry Commission woodland, noticed first rhododendrons then heather and gorse. Then a surprise on the way to Cymych found myself going over open moorland. Quite different and so sudden. Just like being on the Pennine Way with a ribbon of road stretching up the hill. Bleak and desolate ( and wet) but I liked it.
Went through Felindre so must have gone up Allt Hiraeth ( homesick hill). Was thinking rather longingly of being dry... And warm... And of coffee.
Had some interesting features in my notes to look out for including standing stones and burial chambers, but the only standing stone I saw was a memorial to a local poet. Interesting landscape there - this on the road to Rosebush - large rocks everywhere, some moss covered, the sheep cropped grass and some gorse, and this memorial. ( Apparently there is a fantastic view from there on a good day, of Snowdon in the north and the Wicklow mountains in Ireland to the west. But this was not a good day.)
A long haul up an increasingly foggy road and * finally* got to Rosebush which has been the focus of my attention for two or three days now. Got to the campsite. It had a shop! things were looking up.
And then they were't. Sorry, said the chap, we haven't had tents for a few weeks, only caravans on the hard standing. Too wet, do you see?
Ah. So where can I go?
There might be, it appeared, a couple of campsites on the Fishguard road. Sorry. Bye.
I didn't want to go to Fishguard. Nothing personal but it wasn't on my route and I'd already done over 60 miles, it was still raining and the fog was getting thicker. But clearly I had to move so it might as well be in that direction. Something would come up. If all else failed I would have to wild camp.
Then I saw a sign for a B&B, and took no persuading to follow it. To not have to put the tent up in the rain, to dry out, a hot shower ( my legs were almost black with road dirt) - real fluffy towels, a bed... And it was all as good as it sounds. I am a guest of Jean and Neville Llewellyn of Golwyg-y-Fro in Tufton. I don't know if I would have given me the welcome they did and it's a lot to ask, taking in a really soggy cyclist. Jean washed my gear, stuffed my shoes with paper, more or less escorted me directly to the shower room and made me a huge tea. What can you say but ' wow'. It was just what I needed. It's still raining, but the forecast isn't too bad for tomorrow, I've done 616 miles so far and apparently it's only 17 more to St Davids. Its all good.

Day 7: Hay on Wye to Cilycwm. 47.39 miles

Left Hay at 7am, taking the Brecon road, which would have pleased the campsite manager. When I told him my planned route he assured me that the quickest way was the A road to Brecon and straight on to St Davids. It was too difficult to explain that the journey is the experience and St Davids only an arbitrary point to aim for, so I said something about looking at the map and ended the conversation. (I was falling over tired and just wanted to get the tent up and dinner on).
This morning's ride seemed to prove my point, if only to myself. There were pleasant lanes, the slate softened by moss and bracken. The first bike path was an old railway line, now a minor road, and I stopped at Ellwood station ( now a cafe) for a snack and to take a jacket off. Chilly morning and it couldn't seem to decide whether to burn the mist off for another hot day, or rain.
Very tired though and found every hill hard going. This was becoming more of a walking holiday than a cycling one.  Still ahead of tomorrow, but there was no way I could do nearly 100 miles to get to Rosebush. Decided to find one in between, have a half rest day today and easier day tomorrow; will still aim for Rosebush but it will be 50 odd miles instead of 70.
Found a site marked on the map so headed up road and came across this one, an unmarked C&C right close to my route. Lovely long grass, very peaceful ( all I can hear are sheep and birds) £3.
Picked up some food in Builth and have my book. It's sunny and the tent drying nicely.
I've been trying to send this a few times but it keeps failing, so if you don't get it until tomorrow, that's why.

Comberton to Hay on Wye 83.9 miles

Long hard day. Forgive notes, will fill out later.
Cold am - suddenly Sept! Saw balloon, good sign. Mist over river. Lovely golden morning. Photos and shopping in Petshore then small roads to Malvern. Hard going. Av speed never double figs. Past show ground and steep zigzag uphill. Like approaching a wall. Tough. Not much flatter other side. Through Herefordshire. Red earth, apples, hops. Decided to push on to Hay but long hard uphill to get here. Desperately need a shower, very hot day. Eagles over Hay Bluff? Not kites and noisy. Pic of Hay clock.

St Peters Church, Pirton