Day Zero - getting to the starting post

Before

This was hardly the best-prepared of bike trips. I finished working about a week before I left, after nine months of dashing back and forth across the country to London and barely seeing home. During that week Dgym and I went on a mini-break to Winchester to check out the area as a potential place to live, and of course pay a visit to Ralph the wetsuited penguin at nearby Marwell Zoo.



I cycled to Winchester and back, an approximately 130 mile round trip, to test out both me and the bike after so many months apart. We did OK and had a particularly lovely time crossing the New Forest.

Day 0

The day of departure arrived, Monday 31st August, and all I wanted to do was stay in bed. It wasn't exactly a positive start - I was already looking forward to spending lazy autumn days at home when I got back, and wondering why I was doing this at all. At least there was an answer to that question: after a crazy few months, I really needed to reboot my brain.

The packing was somewhat last minute, but at least well-rehearsed - my packing list hasn't changed much. I wasn't sure about the mini-pump (a Topeak Roadmorph) as the Schraeder end had given me some trouble a while back, but a quick deflation and reinflation showed the Presta side worked just fine.

I left mid-afternoon, surprised by how light the bike was. I hadn't packed less or got any stronger - I think it had just been a long time since I'd carried those kind of loads.

I stopped half way to the station to take my first photo of the trip, a perfect blue sky textured with several different types of cloud.



The train reached London and I crossed an unusually quiet city to get to Liverpool Street (Notting Hill Carnival was happening on the other side of town). I almost made it without needing a map, but went horribly wrong right at the end and ended up at Old Street.

This being the UK on a bank holiday, it would have been too much to expect the trains to run as normal, and I would like to thank the Sail Rail people for not bothering to inform me that I was actually booking a Sail Replacement Bus ticket. And we all know what the policy is for carrying bikes on replacement buses (If you don't, it generally involves hoping the bike will conveniently dissolve into thin air).

Fortunately, National Express' drivers are a good deal nicer than their policies and, after some discussion that I should perhaps follow the coach or be towed on a rope, my bike was stowed away into the vast underbelly of the coach. It looked like I was going somewhere after all...

After a long coach journey with the world's most annoying squeaky children, we arrived at Harwich ferry port. I boarded, and my bike was tied up on the car deck. I foolishly decided to carry all my panniers up onto the ferry, forgetting what a pain they are to carry all at once, and dropping water bottles, tickets and bags left right and centre. Fortunately the nice ferry staff picked up what I dropped and helped me to my cabin.

The cabin was a pleasant surprise, one of the nicest I've seen on board a ferry - the decor was good, and the bathroom didn't look too much like a ferry bathroom. I sat in bed eating the sushi box I'd picked up in London, and fell asleep easily after that.

New Plans

It's been a long journey, and I haven't even got on the bike yet.

It was some time in the winter that I got the idea into my head of cycling to Istanbul. It's a long way - about 2000 miles which for me corresponds to two months of cycling. Everybody who I told about it thought I was mad. But, who wouldn't want to cycle to Istanbul? It's that east-meets-west thing, the gateway to Asia, and seemed like it would be a really satisfying place to end a journey. I'd begin in Amsterdam. Amsterdam to Istanbul has a good ring to it, and Amsterdam's not far away. I'd finish work at the end of May, spend a couple of months at home and then set off in the autumn. The journey would take me across an entire continent, over the Alps and through so many different countries, languages and cultures.

As happens with so many of my travel plans, things didn't quite happen that way. I was really happy with the contract I was on and agreed to extend for an extra month, and then another six weeks. They finally set me free but I've only just stopped working, and September starts next week. Which has left me with a boy at home who's been missing me all year, but a brain that desperately needs a break before I get back to normal life. We talked and reached a compromise whereby I'd go away for one month rather than two.

But there's no way I can cycle to Istanbul in two months. What to do? Just do part of the journey? Go somewhere else entirely? For a while I was going to ride from Strasbourg to Belgrade, two cities I would really like to see, and do the other bits of the journey another time - but I haven't exactly been training and I wouldn't get much of a run-up to the Alps. (Momentum is everything.)

I've finally decided to split the journey into two halves and start from Hook of Holland. It would have been Amsterdam but there are rush hour bike-on-train complications there as the ferry gets in at 7:45am. I'll finish somewhere around eastern Italy / Slovenia / Northern Croatia, depending on how things go.

From the North Sea to the Adriatic. I think that sounds pretty good.

I will finish that story...

... although it's not very cycley.

Dgym was due to drive down and join me in Lulworth the next day for a bit of B&B and seaside time, so I left the campsite and rolled a mile down the hill to the Cove. That was my day's cycling.

Lulworth Cove is a Mecca for Dorset geography teachers. Pilgrimages are made daily so that crowds of clipboard-equipped students can learn how different rates of rock erosion have shaped the Jurassic coastline. Perfect eavesdropping material for a bored geeky cyclist with very little else to do that day.

Five years ago, five equally sized lumps of different types of rock were placed outside the visitor centre - Portland limestone, Purbeck limestone, Wealden, Greensands and chalk. Today there's nothing left of the Wealden, and the Greensands and Chalk have disintegrated considerably, whereas the limestones are still standing tall. If you were considering constructing a building that lasts for more than five years, I hope that helps in your choice of materials.


After that I got bored again, wandered off and bought a pretty windmill for dgym. I'm a bit of a sucker for brightly coloured stuff.


Dgym showed up in the evening and we stayed the night in the Lulworth Cove Inn which was very nice and we had a balcony. We ate at Pebbles restaurant which was disappointing - expensive tiny mediocre food - but we hurried up the road to the Castle Inn afterwards to fill up on delicious puddings.

We squeezed the bike into the car and drove home the next day. I was tired out, oversunned, had a lot to do at home and was feeling generally uninspired by Wednesday's ride (for a multitude of possible reasons).

I'm due to finish work (for real this time) towards the end of August. It'll nearly be cycling time again and I'm busy thinking about where to go, which gadgets to bring, how to get back, etc. More on that soon.

Cycling seasons

There are two times of year that I consider to be cycling season in this part of the world - April/May and September/October. There are a few reasons for this...

1. Temperatures are reasonable. Although there is often some leftover winter chill in April and September can still be quite hot, it's not usually unbearable in either direction.

2. With about 12 hours of light in the day, there's enough time for a good day's cycling but it's still easy to experience both sunset and sunrise with a good sleep in between.

3. With many people taking advantage of school holidays in July and August, tourist areas are usually open but less busy in the spring and autumn months. This makes things a bit more pleasant, and it's much easier (and often cheaper) to find somewhere to stay.

The benefits of moderate temperature became clear last week when with some time off work, a new tripod and a hired 10-22mm lens from Lenses For Hire (my new favourite people since I turned camera geek) I took off for the Dorset coast.

It was the first time in over a year that I'd ridden fully loaded - if you can call it that. Full camping gear but no kitchen kit, woolly thermals or winter hat. The extra camera stuff probably made up for that a little bit but I was still travelling lighter than usual.

London suffered a heatwave that week (well, 30C) - it looked as if Dorset would remain several degrees cooler but it didn't feel that way. I dawdled about packing all morning and set off into the heat at 1pm. The first few miles were good but once I hit the Dorset Downs there didn't seem to be a lot of shade and I turned into a melty exhausted heap of sweat, dust and suncream. The road surface seemed a little too shiny in places and the mass of grit that ended up stuck to my front tyre confirmed that yes, the road had been melting.

I pulled into the village shop at Piddletrenthide with one water bottle still full but warm enough to take a bath in. Piddletrenthide is lovely - it's a pleasant and quiet village with an amusing name, a nice little shop and there always seems to be somebody to smile at you in the street. I stocked up on delicious tasty cold water and some snacks.

When you're a pale and pasty person stuck out in baking heat all day long, several applications of suncream are needed throughout the day. It can be very easy to miss a bit just once - this time it was my arms and I ended up with a lovely pair of permanent pink arm warmers, which make me look a bit stupid in a sleeveless top.

Near Puddletown I needed to cross a dual carriageway, the A35. Dual carriageway is a rare occurrence in Dorset and every encounter must be savoured. Spotting a footbridge, I pulled off the road, opened the gate and started to wheel my bike up the dusty path. Another gate stood at the top, I peered around and noticed an adjacent field of cows. A couple of nights previously I'd had a dream about being chased by an over-enthusiastic herd of cattle while out walking, and in general I prefer it if they stay on their side of the fence and I stay on mine.

Checking that they were definitely enclosed within a field I opened the pedestrian gate and pushed my bike through, started to turn right onto the bridge and... oh, look. Several enormous Friesians were trotting merrily across the footbridge over the A35 in my general direction. Arrrgghh! The bike was reversed, the gate was closed and the cows and I greeted one another cordially if somewhat tersely before I wheeled back down in search of an alternate route. Yeah, I'm a wuss. But that was clearly their side of the fence.

The land between the Dorset Downs and the coast consists mostly of quite gentle gradients. I was hot and exhausted but things were easy until I reached Lulworth where I coasted down a long hill into the village. My destination was Durdle Door campsite, situated close to the coast near the rocky landmark of the same name, and about a mile outside West Lulworth. And, as I had obviously forgotten from previous visits, up a massive hill. It was long, straight and probably at least 12%, I was knackered and walked the bike all the way up (as I have explained before, not the easy option!)

The campsite wasn't far from the top of the hill, it was quite busy but there was room for a small tent. I pitched up, went straight for the campsite pub and ordered nachos. Oh yes... the nachos. Are they technically still nachos if you serve them with no sour cream, no guacamole and no jalapenos? I'm pretty sure that should be illegal, and I'm very sure it is an insult to nachos. So I had crisps with melted cheese and chicken & tomato sauce for dinner. After a day of munching on Tracker bars I felt a bit cheated

I took a quick walk along the cliffs to catch some sunset and take a few photos before returning to the tent. My head hit the mattress and I was asleep straight away.

Bike hippy misses bike

Hi, readers... those of you who are still around anyway. If you're still coming back and checking for new posts every so often, thanks for sticking around. If you're still coming back and checking every day, you're insane and need new hobbies.

I've not exactly lived up to the "bike hippy" label lately. I've been out for some nice day rides close to home (Dorset and Somerset), many in combination with geocaching, but for the last few months I've been peddling the feeble excuse of being far too busy working.

It's not like I've got a real job. Touring made me very much allergic to permanent work, however travelling and life in general take their financial toll and after almost three years of the both of us being unemployed / running our own not-yet-profitable business, it was decided that somebody had better go out and earn some proper money. I think I did pretty well out of it to start with the basic requirement of getting any old contract to top up the bank account (after all it's only for a few months) and end up on a ridiculously cool project developing a brand new website for the BBC. I'm just over half way through a six month contract and having an awesome time.

I'm living part time in London at the moment. I only get home every two weeks or so and whenever I do it always seems like there are hundreds of things to do, the bike rides never seem to happen and it makes me sad. However, working in London was a good opportunity to get the poor neglected little orange brompton out so I'm still getting something of a cycling fix in the form of a 5 miles each way commute, but up and down the A40 is not very adventurous and I miss riding through winding lanes, between green fields, up and down mountains, across continents... see? Daydreaming again.

If you use twitter, you can follow bikehippy. I'm hoping that even if I can't come up with full blog posts all the time I might be able to manage 140 characters every now and then.