Home from home

Cycle-venturing is something I’ve been dreaming of for a while now. To just go, without all the faff and noise and expense of fuel-guzzling transport. I’ve never had a car, so independent travel has always been by bike or walking for me. And cycling is so much faster than lumbering forward one step at a time!

Up until very recently I’ve been desk-bound and reduced to glumly staring out the window. Or rather, at Windows (and Word and R and NetLogo and github…) with a breather at the beginning and end of the day to commute by faithful bike. Home from home. Office and house were both fully equipped with tea, food, blankets, changes of clothes, and books. All the provisions necessary to keep writing from within a PhD cocoon. But I’m free now! And to celebrate, I decided to try to cycle from Oxfordshire to Cornwall: another home from home!

Day 1

I left Oxfordshire with the intention of reaching Bristol later that day. Clever maps told me it would be about 64 miles. But clever maps did not take my little detours into account. Day 1 turned into my longest ever day in the saddle. I think I covered about 76 miles over about 8 hours (including breaks, I hasten to add).

One thing I became quite aware of while cycling is where to find appropriate places to stop. I was on minor roads most of the time, but people on four(+) wheels can tear round those rural bends pretty fast and get quite impatient at any obstacles (like me) in the way. There’s always the odd little gate to a field to rest by, or people’s driveways just off the road, but these felt less like rest points than tuck-in-to-let-the-traffic-past points. Handy for a brief relief of the haunches. Not so great for a picnic and taking pictures of Bike with something impressive in the background.

The other thing I became quite aware of travelling through the quaint Cotswold countryside is how many little villages there are, and just how many of these villages have little village greens, or rather large churches. These usually came with the promise of wonderful communal areas with spots to sit, contemplate the world (and my snack box), and do a bit of people watching where people won’t watch you back for being out of place. In other words, haven. It was in one of those spots I took the picture above. You’ll notice I’m not in it, because no one wants a series of sweaty selfies from another millennial. Bike has become both noble steed and mascot for me. And isn’t Bike beautiful!

Bike and I did reach Bristol that day. But Bristol is very wide and it took quite a while to get to the middle. City-folk won’t be surprised at this, but I’ve been living in Cornwall for nearly five years now and find urbanism increasingly baffling.

This tunnel came as a complete surprise! I could smell it and feel it before I knew what it was. The day was very warm and humid so rushing into this great maw of cold, damp air was such an invigorating relief! It felt like old museum basements and ancient caves. It looked like a feat of human industrial engineering. And I loved it! All fatigue and hunger I’d accumulated by this point got left behind in the dark. Onwards we sped to Bristol Temple Meads!

So, I think I don’t like cycling through the middle of cities. The little cycling highway we found (with the tunnel!) was great. Bristol itself is one of my favourite cities with all sort of interesting things and people. Over the last few years, I’ve lived there for at least three weeks total. That’s not even including all the hours I’ve spent waiting at the train station on my way somewhere else. But navigating the sprawling tangle of roads, bike lanes, paths, traffic, pedestrians, and highly inconvenient inanimate objects was the most mentally exhausting part of the whole day. Is a bike a road object? Or just a fast pedestrian? Both? Neither? All of the above, depending on your interpretation? And is it that left, or that left road to take? Don’t dither! Must decide NOW because everyone is in a hurry to get wherever they’re not.

But find the train station, we did. Hopped onto the next train to Cardiff and met my wonderful friend Ellie who let me stay the night.

Day 2

Day 2 started well. Can you hear the ominous tone? Bike and I rolled back on the train to begin where we left yesterday. I may write a whole separate blog about the trials of mingling environmentally friendlier means of transportation (that is, how very difficult it is to get a bike anywhere if you’re not actually cycling it). But not now.

Bike and I left the city in a southerly direction, straight down to the Cheddar Gorge. It is beautiful, I’m told. But the low cloud, rain, and increasing pain in my knees diminished that beauty a bit.

The knee issues are not new for me, but with classic naive optimism I thought it would be fine. My legs are strong, my self is fit, my bike usually survives with too much stuff on it, and I was determined to get where I was going. What I had not accounted for was the additional weight that I was carrying, the number of miles I’d done the day before (flatness notwithstanding), and my own human frailty.

Bike and I made it to Wells and saw the mighty cathedral! I seem to remember seeing it in a documentary sometime, with a reconstructed idea of how the front was once magnificently painted.

But by the time we made it to the next settlement, Glastonbury, I could not bend my left knee without excruciating pain. Unfortunately, knees do need to bend in order to turn the pedals of a bike. Doubly unfortunately, I’d landed in Glastonbury the week of The Festival and was stranded. It is quite humbling to be reminded of how much we rely on good health to do even simple things. Need I describe how grumpy I was hobbling over to the nearest taxi with space for a bike?

I clambered onto the next train south and continued the journey to Cornwall by train. Temporarily defeated. But ambitions are still in tact! I’m under strict instructions from my physio brother to ‘not do anything stupid’ and let my knees heal. Then it’ll be off on the next adventure!

Trip tally

Number of…

• miles cycled: about 100
• hours in the saddle: maybe 13
• friends I managed to catch up with on the way: 3
• cities seen: 4 (including Wells!)
• tunnels cycled through: 1
• car exhausts fallen off in front of me: 1
• funny place names: oh so many! (current favourite is ‘Pucklechurch’)