Last of the Summer Wine

It's the 2014 bike ride revisited following our aborted attempt in the Spring which ended up as just me and Simon taking on the rolling Normandy hills. Pete picks me up in his van at Battersea Park and we have a good drive out of London considering it's Friday rush hour. As night comes on we pick up Simon on the Swindon slip road and also an Aussie hitcher he's met who's going to Bristol. We drop him off at the Bath turn off advising him to get a bus. After the weekend we think that he's left his laptop in the van. Poor guy. But why oh why would you hitch with a laptop? Modern life I guess. Rest of the journey to the Gower is pretty good although once there we get a little lost at one point my phone sat nav telling us we were in the estuary. So Google don't know everything about us cos we were pretty dry at the time. Eventually we see Amanda's fairy lights to guide us to her and Chris' house and we are treated to great hospitality plied with beer and wine sitting in the warm night air next to the fire pit burning Amanda's driftwood artworks.

Waiting for the man at Battersea wondering what on earth they're doing to the roundabout

I awake wishing I'd gone to bed earlier but after a great breakfast served by our hosts I'm cycling fit. Chris sets off at a ferocious pace and soon we're at Llanelli Golf Club to meet our fifth man Nick. So the peloton sets off along fairly flat roads until we reach Kidwelly where we stop off for coffee next to the castle walls. Every sizable village or town seems to have it's own castle in this part of Wales. We hit our first proper hill and as soon as we've struggled up we freewheel down to the water again at Ferryside where we forlornly search for the long gone ferry (as in decades) and so have to haul our sorry bodies up to Uplands and glide down to Carmarthen. After a couple more hills we stop at Llangain to find our bearings. Finding they are well off course in our quest to find Dylan Thomas' boat house at Laugharne we get chatting to the locals. We are persuaded to lunch at the brilliantly named Tafarn Pantydderwen pub which has a great grasp of veganism and serve me up a lovely veg chilli with half and half (rice and chips). Over our pints we are joined by three locals and a dog and get a potted history of the place, Dylan Thomas' relatives, the local characters and anyone who passes stops to find out who we are including car drivers. Caused quite a stir us five cyclists. The directions to Laugharne seem to be that we go up a very Steep Hill and then Another Steep Hill before traversing the Spiders Web of Lanes which we are warned we may never emerge from before getting on the Main Road to Bancyfelin and St Clears on the River Taf. We part with our newfound friends telling us that after the first couple of hills it's all downhill to Tenby and we'll be laughing all the way. Bracing ourselves for a Hobbit like Epic Journey we pass Dylan's old house of Fernhill before the hills and lanes which actually aren't too bad and before we know it we're in Laugharne where we resist the attempt to drink in Browns Hotel, apparently where Dylan's wife met her rough dalliances, and get to Dylan's boathouse. Well, at first we see his writing shack just down the lane from the boat house and the views across the estuary are just amazing. As Pete says, anyone could write brilliantly with those views out the window. We then have afternoon tea at the boat house which is more like a proper house and where the lad who serves us tells us the next ways we should take to Tenby. This fills us with more dread than the old guys and their Spider Web of Lanes as we have to ascend Heartbreak Hill favoured by Iron Man competitors. It seems that it's not called Heartbreak Hill due to lost loves but because of the blood pressures reached whilst struggling up it. It's officially named Pendine Hill and once reaching we think that's it but there's another vicious kick before we are treated to a gorgeous long fast descent where I have the quandary of whether to gaze at the beautiful views over Amroth and Saundersfoot or whether to watch the tarmac in front of me in case of pot holes. Safely down we go for a quick dip at Amroth in the surprisingly warm (yes, warm) waters as the sun goes down. Up and down a couple of steep hills before reaching Saundersfoot through the beach tunnels then it's up the climb to New Hedges where the family camped a couple of summers ago and we bypass Tenby by which time the night has come down and we're cycling with lights on along the main road which is a little hairy. Eventually we get to our haven for the night Manorbier Youth Hostel which is way past Tenby and worryingly next to an army firing range. Friendly staff here and it's neat and clean. Chat to a worryingly enthusiastic cyclist who wears Shimano SPD sandals and seems disappointed that we are amateurs and not that knowledgeable about cycling in general and welsh routes in particular. We order in a curry and after a couple of bottles of beer and watching Match of the Day old style (i.e. without knowing all the scores which in The Arsenal's case is nothing to write home about) we go to bed in our cosy room of bunk beds. I sleep pretty well but a couple of the lads have a restless night. Probably due to me struggling down from my bunk to visit the loo a couple of times.

Fiddling about making sure we're all set

Ready for the official "off" pic

Gower waters

Nick rendezvous

Coffee and cake at Kidwelly, with castle of course

Pill box to deter the Germans - as we kept on bumping into on last year's Kennet Canal ride

Simon's first to realise there's no ferry at Ferryside

Ahh, the rolling hills of Wales

Stop Press! Five foreigners visit Welsh village. (Pete is also counted as a foreigner in these parts)

Puffing away like a Welsh dragon

As ever we are in complete agreement as to the way...

Opposite Browns Hotel

As Pete said, who couldn't write fantastic poetry with such a view

Dylan's Writing Shack

View from the house

The Boys

Artistic shot

After a wicked climb the long blissful descent to Amroth

Amroth beach invaded by mad ageing cyclists in underpants

We wake to a gorgeous day bathing our hostel in sun and after a big vegan breakfast (much appreciated YHA foreign staff) we start off wondering if we've eaten too much what with yesterday's curry. Excess is soon burnt off with the first couple of hills. Simon and I are out front and race down a steep wide hill road perfect for head down freewheeling. It's the hill that just keeps giving and halfway down I do wonder whether the others will follow given we have to get back up somehow. At the bottom is beautiful Freshwater East beach and soon the others join us. With the glorious weather, which we overhear a local saying is the best September since they can remember which is a long time by the look of him, we go for a swim, colder than yesterday, then toast ourselves for a while. Tempting to stay here all day but we're not on a beach holiday so we jump upon our trusty steeds again. Not wanting the break the rule of not backtracking and not particularly relishing going back up the hill we've just come down we climb out of Freshwater East by the western hill. By now we are well and truly in the Pembroke hills and we climb up and scoot down a few including one which says 20% at the bottom (luckily I didn't notice that) and 25% at the top looking back down. Soon after we reach Pembroke itself. After another heartpumping climb we get up to Cleddau Bridge at Pembroke docks and cycle over for free with brilliant views in all directions. At the end we follow the signs to the local pubs and have an excellent lunch. Mine is bean chilli with half and half again following a vegan conversation with knowledgeable bar staff. With full stomachs we have to haul all that food up the next couple of hills through lovely wooded lanes. We hit the open road to climb up to the menacingly named Hill Mountain but either we're getting used to the gradients or it's not as bad as it's named. Probably the latter. Following our post breakfast testy discussion about today's route (OK, me and Simon were the main testy ones) we all decide to head for the train at Haverfordwest. We have time for a quick pint at the local station pub in a very urban beer garden before boarding the two carriage train that stops at every one horse village between here and Manchester some even being request stops. Chris Pete and I leave the train and Simon and Nick at Gowerton for the half hour cycle ride back to Chris' place where a hot shower, a beer and tasty meal awaits. Thanks Amanda that was appreciated more than you can imagine. As our exertions are taking their toll we're in bed by 10.30 to sleep like logs.

Our ex army youth hostel

Pete's keeping and eye on me so I don't give him the jump

Rolling hills of Pembrokeshire

The Fabled Bronzed God-Like Cyclists of Freshwater East

You can take the man out of Zummerzet but you can't... oi! get orf moi beech!

Nick laughs in the face of at 25%er. It's surely not a grimace?

View from Pembroke bridge

More from Pembroke bridge

Hill Mountain is but a pimple on the face of west Wales to us hardened climbers

Our last directions discussion

Nick and Chris out for the count, Simon raring to go. Not sure where

Monday is overcast and after a quick breakfast Pete and I say our farewells to Chris and Amanda and hit the M4 with a detour to visit Pete's folks and a cup of team. Our cycling egos are deflated as Pete's dad tells us he used to cycle around Pembrokeshire on his fixie and who's idea of a cycling weekend was to London and back. Ah well, maybe bikes were lighter back then? Soon we're back in the big smoke and I show Debbie our snaps. Her verdict is that it reminds her of Last of the Summer Wine. I assume that she's referring to the landscape and not that we are five old blokes cycling up and down hills with knobbly knees? Or the fact that we drank the last dregs of Chris and Amanda's top tasting red.

Jerseys. I was voted the polka dot as I never pushed the bike up a hill which I'm irritatingly proud of. Green is a toss up between Pete and Simon for reckless hill descending. White, although traditionally for the best youngster let's award it to the person who cycles least and who we are all well impressed at putting in a 100 miles over two days. Congratulations Nick. Chris can wear the red race number as the most aggressive rider - both for the pace he set and for shaking his fist at drivers the most. Yellow? We don't care about the individual as this is a team sport and we were all winners. Oh sod that. I would've been first to Haverfordwest station if Pete hadn't pulled my jersey just as I was about to sprint so it went to either Simon or Chris. Also I'm sure that all four of them have been on the EPO as there was lots of rustling of blood bags when I once went into the hostel room.

The route. Steepest hill starts at the green pointer just past Pendine climbing before whizzing down to Amroth beach for our evening swim. See here: http://connect.garmin.com/jsPlayer/601830457

Our route - stopped for the night at the southernmost squiggle

Gradient

Cornwall and Devon Summer 2014

Taking a half day from work I tell the office that they may be able to contact me by texting my personal mobile in an emergency if I have a signal on my Cornish cliff top campsite by Friday lunchtime I've signed off and ready to pack the car before setting off west along the M3 (traffic not great but not bad considering first day of the school holidays) and down the A303 before stopping off at my brother's for a catchup and sustenance. Saturday morning we set off bright and early through a hot sun. We is me, Jack and Maya as Lily-Rose is holidaying the first week with friends and Debbie is working til Thursday. Drive again isn't too bad except for crawling over Bodmin Moor and we're at George's Field early afternoon. We pitch in a sea mist which soon clears to sunshine then go into St Agnes and wander down to the beach which is pretty minimal as the sea is in. Back at the site we meet up with Bruce and Khaldoun and the Yorkshire contingent Malcolm, Lisa, Catherine and Tony. The latter and I go chumping then after the barbeque we have a roaring fire during which we're joined by a couple of kids from across the vast empty field (that's the beauty of George's Field) and then their mother comes over to get them and stays entranced by the fire only going when her kids have run off and husband joins us. A good first night and after two early starts the sleeping bag is welcomed.

St Agnes cottages

Sunday is overcast but dry so us three and Bruce & Khaldoun cycle through St Agnes and on to Chapel Porth Beach. The winter storms have stripped about 6 foot depth of sand from the cove so now it's rocks with a bit of sand rather than the vast beach that you could walk along to the next bay and beach. We swim a bit and then tackle the killer hill back up the valley then back to camp. By this time Ramsay, Jo, Poppy and Maisie have arrived and we cycle / car to Perranporth for a drink at the beach bar before tackling the hill back to Trevallas to cook supper and then crowd around our camp fire which nearly causes a Cornish bush fire on the tinder dry grass. Get to bed just as the heavens open  allaying any fears that a rogue ember will jump out and burn the tents down. First day of our non working week sees drizzle and showers so we hot foot it into Truro with the Palmers to see Dawn of the Planet of the Apes and by the time they've started their dominance in the late afternoon the sun is out with a vengeance. We wander round Truro and the impressive cathedral twice before finding a decent pub for a swift one then back to George's Field stopping off at the Miners Arms in Mithian. Jo makes a fantastic chilli for tea then it's warming ourselves round the fire listening to Malcolm's beat box. Tuesday starts very hot driving us out of the nylon tents and I get sunburnt knees poking out of the shade of the porch. I go for a solo ride through St Agnes and up to The Beacon but as it's an off road flinty track I need to get off and push to get to the trig point at the top where I can see for miles and miles. Once back to the tent we chill in the hot sun before hitting Perranporth beach just as the sun goes in. We attempt to surf for a while and the sea temperature is pretty mild although hardly mediterranean so it's off to the beach bar for a quickie before going back to the camp site to stoke up the barbie and, yeah, sit around the fire with Malcolm's Late Night Boom Box Request Show for entertainment; request a group / song and Malcolm plays it or the nearest thing he has. Spotify it ain't.

Chapel Porth beach bereft of sand

There may be surfers ahead...

Sunday Sunset

View from the camp

Sunset watching

So it does shine out of Ramsay's proverbial

From St Agnes Beacon towards our campsite

View from the Beacon

Another gorgeous sunset

Farmer Georges Field aka Trevellas Manor Farm

Wednesday starts sweltering as yesterday so we drive to Holywell Bay for lunch and a laze on the beach then search for cricket umpire stones, perfectly smooth white and same sizes, with Bruce for his club lead umpire. Back home me and the kids go for a walk through the local airfield and over the cliff tops before dropping down to the beach along from St Agnes and then up the valley past the tin mine chimneys and into a beautiful shady wood with stream tumbling down. Once back I drive Bruce to the Miners Arms to find out if there is an open mic tomorrow, disappointed, and after a swift one we're back to help Khaldoun with his mega That curry for 17 (seventeen) which we eat sat civilised at candlelit tables in the dark wondering what the rest of the campers must think of us. We already know they don't like us due to either noise or more likely jealousy. Need I say we have a fire to end the night. Thursday excited as Debbie arrives in the afternoon. Yay! A thankfully cooler start to the day and chill out in the morning in the hazy sun before driving through Truro and into St Clements for a short estuary walk. Meet Debbie from the train and drive back to camp then into St Agnes for the pop quiz where the Southerners' Three Donkey Pile Up team beat the Northerners handsomely winning a bottle of wine then onto another pub to watch a Welsh band who are very good when lively and singing the drunken sailor song. Back to camp we have a quick burst of the fire that's stoking before turning in. Friday is an overcast morning turning to heavy rain then persistent rain all day. Not a great start for Debbie. We hang around the tents with Bruce and Khaldoun chatting and chilling out. Failed bbq attempt gives way to stove cooking then we all huddle into our tent being joined by the Palmer clan making us 10 and cosy.

Cliff top walk

Atop the cliffs

Tin Mine Valley

Tin Mines

The Mega Thai Curry in progress

Started as we meant to go on - look and weep Palmers!

Saturday we're up early, too early the kids moan, to pack the partially dry tents before saying our goodbyes to one and all and we depart for our Combe Martin cottage picking up Lily-Rose en route so we're all together again. A modern robust fixed holiday home awaits us which to be honest feels nicer than last years poky old world cottage as it's spacious and light. We hope the rooster and chickens have good lie ins and don't wake us too early. Sunday sees us having a leisurely breakfast and drying and airing some of our damp camping stuff. Then off to Combe Martin beach for a blast of hot sun, often popping out of the clouds, and a swim for me and the kids. Dark clouds threaten and drop a few spits of rain on us then back to the cottage to coax the bbq into action and cook vegan sausages next to the local butchers marinaded sausage and chicken which is now the responsibility of Jack to tend. Monday we awake to another beautifully sunny morning with the resident rooster crowing at a fairly reasonable hour. At least I didn't hear him if he was crowing at 5am. A leisurely breakfast then early afternoon we drive to Lynton and through the Valley of the Rocks to the gorgeous Lee Bay next to the abbey grounds. We don't swim but stand on the boulders as the waves come in then do a bit of rock clambering. Then for the very steep drive up the single track coastal route rewarded with amazingly beautiful views along the cliffs. We lunch at the pub at Blackmoor Gate then back home to relax for the rest of the afternoon. Maya and I go for a short / long (distance / time) bike ride towards Parracombe going up and down some very steep and narrow lanes one so steep that in my lowest gear my skinny tyres are slipping on the mossy gravel as I turn the pedals and I have to give up and push. Again, the reward is a lovely dipping sun viewed down the valley towards Combe Martin. We get home just as Debbie and Lily-Rose return from shopping and after a tasty tea we settle down to watch Rush.

Beautiful and Vicious

Lee Beach

Lee Beach waves

Lee Beach again

Lee Beach cove

Devon is Heaven

Rolling hills of the north Exmoor coastline

Our garden - note hens and tent drying

Maya stopping for picturesque rest

Sun coming down over Combe Martin

Maya rests before tacking the false flat

Tuesday another gorgeous morning with a few grey clouds passing overhead. The usual leisurely breakfast before we realise it's noon so wake the boy and feverish activity to get out of our abode. As the day is glorious we go to Putsborough beach which is the far end of Woolacombe sands. Definitely need suncream and we swim and body board before and after lunch. Mid afternoon clouds over ominously and we pack and go thinking about a walk through the woods near home but by the time we reach Higher Dean Cottage it's raining cats and dogs so ensconce ourselves in the dry and warm for the evening. Mid week we wake to the rooster cock a doodle dooing on our veranda and it's a lovely sunny morning again. We're all awake earlyish and Jack and I go for a two hour bike ride through Parracombe up and down some vicious hills. Get back and the girls are out horse riding, well, not Debs but she stays with them. Whilst getting bike stuff in I accidentally turn and nearly step on the rooster who then attacks my leg pecking a hole in the skin. After that the next couple of times I leave the safely of the house the damn thing goes for me and I resort to carrying a broom handle to fend it off. Of course the girls think it's hilarious that I'm clutching a broom whilst eating lunch with the rooster stalking up and down the fence giving me the evil eye. Later in the afternoon we drive to Hunters Inn and walk down the lovely valley to Heddon Mouth for a photo shoot on the rocks with various posing and jumping in the air.

Surfing at Putsborough sands

Heddon valley

Heddon Valley kids

Heddon Valley Heart

Heddon's Mouth - spot Lily-Rose

Debbie and Maya

Lily-Rose

Stars

Rock hopping

Racing

Thursday yet another glorious day and I'm up early for a cycle leaving just after 8am and getting back 4 hours later. Just about make it up the really steep hills through Parracombe and just past Lynton, and coming down is just as hard on gravelly surfaces, before a long though enjoyable ascent onto Exmoor then down into my homeland of Somerset and Simonsbath. Shady country lanes and moorland back to Blackmoor Gate and on the way home down the road towards Combe Martin I just can't bring myself to stop as the rapid descent is so much fun and within minutes I find myself at Combe Martin beach. Bracing myself for the long climb back to where we're staying I have a packet of peanuts and a half of cider at the The Focsle Inn overlooking the beach then it's up some ridiculously steep hills and yes, at the start I had to get off and push for about 20 yards or so. By this time the sun is really beating down where there are trees I cycle on the wrong side of the road in the shade. I'm going the back route rather than the main road I cycled down and after the really steep start it sort of flattens out so my heart beat goes out of the danger zone and I sail back to the cottage. After recovery and lunch and after the girls get back from horse riding we all go into Woolacombe to sit on the very crowded and hot beach cooling off in the tepid water catching the surf. Barbeque in the evening then after another Lily-Rose quiz we're off to bed where I sleep like a log. Friday another beautiful day of sun, we've been so lucky these past two weeks, but everyone sleeps in til mid morning. After lunch we drive to Lynton where the girls shop and Jack and I stop at the Valley of the Rocks and go on a cliff top walk spotting goats and a deer. Debbie calls to say she's found a lovely vintage French bike to replace her broken Dutch one and once we all meet up in town we pay the antique shop owner saying we'll collect next day. In the evening we have chips on Combe Martin beach then Jack, Maya and myself walk along the rocks exploring a cave and we all watch the beautiful sun set. A great end to our last day of the holiday.

The dawn chorus sees me off nice and early

Steep climb from the Lynton junction

Cattle grids welcome you to the moors

Toward the Bristol Channel

Mid morning rest and snack spot

Combe Martin beach - before the brutal ascent home

Garmin map of ride - http://connect.garmin.com/activity/559577031 - I didn't reach 51 mph! max was 35

The wide open sands of Woolacombe Beach

Moorland cliff goat

Sunset over Combe Martin bay on our last evening

Saturday morning we awake to torrential rain. We pack the car during the breaks and make for the A303 after picking up Debbie's new bike in Lynton and meandering over Exmoor. 8 hours after leaving Combe Martin we arrive back in Balham. A long journey but worth it as we're now in glorious sunshine again. We're all weary after the drive and worried about Casper the Cat who turns up after a couple of hours missing his collar and cat flap magnet. And thinner. Good to be back home but great memories of a fantastic holiday. When the sun's out there is nowhere better in the world than the West Country to relax in.