£60 for Sandford House B&B
£2.50 for beer at BB
£3.40 for tea and cake in Glastonbury
£2.95 for ice-cream, cold drink, and Mars bar from Cheddar Mendip Camping & Caravanning Club Site
I can't really blame packing the tent away for slow starts - I'd stayed in luxury and even had my breakfast cooked for me, and still I got away after 10am. I was chatting to other guests over breakfast, faffing about in my en-suite bathroom without the need to keep taking everything back to the tent or dorm room, and having a look around the smallholding that the B&B owners also run.
Once I was on my way I had a definite spring in my pedalling, as I knew I'd be seeing my brother and his girlfriend that evening and staying at their house. This meant a bit of TLC, the chance to get my cycling kit properly washed and the tent dried (it was damp when I had to pack it away a few days previously), and a lesiurely evening over a meal and a pint.
The run to Glastonbury was ridiculously easy as the Somerset Levels really are that. One stretch of road could have been built for time-trialling as it's dead straight and flat, between two drainage ditches, so I got into the big ring, crouched down into my version of an aerodynamic riding position, and almost forgot I had a ton of luggage on the bike. You see Galstonbury Tor for many miles as you approach the town, which is a fantastic motivation as you move through the Somerset lanes.
The final approach to Glastonbury town was quite magical. I'm sure some new-age hippies were involved in the construction - a cycle path that winds along beneath a tunnel of young trees.
Glastonbury itself is, in my opinion, a tacky commercialised place. Every other shop sells crystals, reads Tarot, or offers versions of Green Man and Goddess goods or new age hippy clothing. I stopped for a cup of tea and piece of gluten-free cake, but felt I wanted to get out of the town fairly quickly as it all felt so fake.
After Glastonbury I approached the Mendip Hills. I hadn't realised until this point that Cheddar Gorge and Wooky Hole were here, and I looked with fear at my map that showed an alarming number of contour lines extremely close together. I braced myself for some serious climbing. The road through Wooky Hole (another great place name) had a red arrow on my map, showing a significant incline, but when I reached it I was mildly disappointed as I'd met equivalent back in Cornwall, without arrows on the map. I still had to push the bike up, however.
Once I reached Chew Valley Lake I phoned my brother as he said he'd ride out to meet me. I also phoned the Sustrans Head Office in Bristol as they said they'd be keen for me to pop in on my way through. It looked like I'd just about get to Bristol before their office closed for the weekend.
Had I not taken a wrong turning, I'd probably have made that deadline. I think I'd got so used to cycling at my own pace, arriving places whenever I did and not worrying about being 'late' for anything or anyone, that the perceived pressure of meeting people by a certain time made me lose concentration. Instead of continuing to follow my route, I found myself on a busy road in Friday afternoon rush hour, going up a horrid steep hill with traffic rushing past. It all felt wrong after the amount of day on quiet back roads and lanes, but I knew I was heading towards Bristol from the road signs and my simple compass on my bell, so I kept ploughing on.
When my brother phoned to ask where I was, I realised I'd gone wrong, but I was damned if I was going back down the hill I'd just climbed, so said I'd press on and meet my brother in Bristol. The road became even busier, I had to remember how to be street-smart in traffic after a week away from it, and I passed through parts of Bristol I didn't want to hang around in. Eventually, I managed to get to a central Bristol landmark that I'd walked past with my brother the weekend before, so called him to describe it (it was one of the Gromit statues that were placed around the city). After a stressful end to the day's journey, I was delighted for my brother to escort me home for the final half a mile or so.
Following a nice soak in the bath and a glass of home-made beer (thanks to Garry, my other brother), I was told that we were walking a short way to the pub for a meal as Vaughan and Liz wanted to show me a lovely country estate on the edge of Bristol and a country pub with reputation for good food. I thought it was strange, since they live close to lots of pubs and restaurants, but went with the flow.
I discovered the reason for choice of pub when my sister and niece appeared, having driven up from Hampshire to meet me as a surprise - the country pub was the only one with rooms available. We had a lovely evening chatting about growing up together as a family and laughing together. An unexpected and delightful end to the day.
No comments:
Post a Comment