Good Evening All,
Strictly speaking (typing) we haven't actually started, but we are all in St Davids.
Lucky number today is 33.
Iain's parents - Mr +Mrs Aiken drove him and Jim down. They are shadowing us for the week carrying bags between the stop overs for us. Rob's parents drove the van with the bikes with Rob and Brammer Boy La La La in it (sat on deckchairs in the back, highly illegal we think but quite comfortable). Mr Ken Cotterill the legend drove JC, Andy and Dan from Dan and Claire down.
The YHA is tucked just north of the beautiful city of St Davids, it is a great little place Dyfed Fish + Chip Bar on the high street comes highly recommended, it is next to Bevan + Buckland, tax consultants - half day Thursdays. The Bishops has a lovely beer garden and a range of real ales, most chose London Pride though and it has travelled the M4 well. The Farmers is a lovely pub with an outside terrace come patio, and they must have know we were coming as they have laid on a Welsh Male Voice choir. The lady that introduced them (let's call her Anne) is 4 sheets to the wind and keeps elbowing Dan from Dan and Claire and flicking the Vs at us. She is having a bit of trouble talking, but it is funny. The chaps in the choir look to have begun the vocal lubrication at about 2pm and the short wedding dressed lady on piano was also thirsty this afternoon by the looks of it.
When Anne speaks she is louder than the choir, so far they are proving to be quite subtle - she is superb, you have to be here to appreciate this, you couldn't make it up. Did I mention that Anne wears a neckbrace?
If you join a Welsh Male Voice Choir, check for pegs on your jacket. Apparently if you have one on your jacket for more than 5 minutes then you owe somebody £10. Watching 30 blokes feel their jacket flaps everys 10 seconds is quite funny.
We were told to pack light. Dan from Dan and Claire has got 14 pairs of boxershorts with him. The chap behind the bar looks a lot like Vernon Kaye.
9.00pm and it is time to leave as the St Davids youth hostel is 3 miles from St Davids - like a Ryan air airport. We walk back through the lanes to the YHA. The building is split into the main part and a coverted pig shed, it is actually more glamorous than it sounds and Brammer Boy La La La feels at home in it.
Bed for 10pm eating biscuits given to us by Iain's Auntie Mary and Auntie Leslie. They are moreish. (I don't want anymore biscuits I will have another biscuit). YHA bunks and we are on biscuit number 13 (Iain counts them). YHA have a weird reputation as being a bit cheap and full of German ramblers but this one is another little gem. In our opinion the Scottish ones were generally nicer as they were usually coverted castles, but these barn conversions feel quite nice. If you are on a budget and just need to sleep like we do, it is ideal, saying that we are at a B+B in Carmarthen tomorrow night but it is slightly worrying as the conversation when booking it went like this:
"Hello can we book you B+B for Sunday 18th July? There are 7 of us and we just want the 1 night as we are cycling."
"No problem, as it is a Sunday there should be some room."
"But can we book it, we are happy to pay a deposit and confirm as we are cycling and would like the assurance?"
"No need it is always quiet here on a Sunday so there should be plenty of room - bye."
So fingers crossed on that one.
Serves us right for being lazy. If you put B+B Carmarthen into google The Priory is the first one that comes up, we should have rang the next one.
By the time some of you read this at work we will have got there and checked in with around 60 miles under our belt and the first leg completed. We hope the weather is normal and not too windy.
Lights out at St Davids from the lads, updates on tomorrow ina bout 24 hours.
Be good.
Relatively normal start to the day. Iain got a text at 6.30am wishing him luck which was nice, and then his alarm went off at 7.00am. We didn't have to get up until after 8 o'clock but Iain likes to snooze - nobody else does, but hey ho it was only Brammer Boy La La La and Rob in the room, so they got woken up evey half an hour too. We wondered why toothbrush manufacturers don't put use by dates on their brushes, that way they might sell more. Rob wondered why they don't make football boots with velcro on them, a lot of cycling shoes are, and they are nearly the same shape - who wants to go on Dragons Den?
Dan from Dan and Claire, JC, Andy and Jim were in their posh room. As the standard YHA bunk doesn't go up to 9 foot, Jim felt it better to move his matress onto floor in the lounge part of their room. (Jim is a freindly giant if you have yet to meet him). A good idea except is was underneath the fire escape and the light has to remain on. Jim likes his sleep, so we were all suprised to see him quite up beat in the morning.
The weather was amazing - amazingly foggy and slightly damp, no matter. Mr + Mrs Aiken came for the bags about 9am, we cycled down to the lovely beach (Whitesands, well worth a visit) and had our obligatory tyre in the sea and photos all around.
Cycling commenced.
We climbed up and down into St Davids itself and then out on the coast road to Haverford West, hills a plenty as you can imagine. At around 12 miles in we stopped for breakfast, impressive female serving staff (ask JC) and breakfast all around. Iain was pleased as they made hot white drinking chocolate.
We climbed out of the bay and back on the coast road to Haverford West, one hill in particular had a lift attendant and floors to get off, it was slow going but we made the 12 miles into Haverford West and away from the coast winds. The weather remained miserable like Rob, and a little damp.
Through the back lanes we had some puncture scares but think that the slime inner tubes have taken effect, Brammer Boy La La La had a chain break, he whipped out the link with one of the special tools and clipped it all back together, so far it has held.
1pm, we had covered around 35 miles and it was time to eat. We stopped at an unsuspecting local pub up a back lane near Narbeth and what a find, real ales and sunday roast. The locals were friendly and hospitable, if you get chance go to www.thepeacefulretreat.co.uk and speak to Sarah, lovely women, ask JC (she got a red wine out of us).
The pub was in a unpronouncable village but it was called the Plash Inn, lovely real ale nearly all round, it started serving food again about 4 weeks ago apparently, and only had a table of 4 booked for today, mrs cook wasn't very pleased that 7 of us turned up unanounced but she came around (ask JC). We skipped pudding, even though it was home made Apple Pie or Lemon Cheesecake, out of character but worth it on the hills.
So, fed and watered we were off. Out the pub and up a hill - boo.
This is a nice part to read. We got lost. Not lost lost, but super lost lost lost, Ray Mears lost. Down a lane and up a hill, across a ford and then a huge steep dirt track. We had to walk. This then turned into a field, then another field and we were lost. At one point we were considering climbing over 2 barbed wire fences into another field to then cross onto several other fields until we may have eventually found a road.
We were lost.
We doubled back but cycled a bit, we now know how crop circles are made.
We lost an hour, but then found a road. The hills came thick and fast and slowed us right down, we were a bit moody too. Found the A40 cycle route into Carmarthen. We came up Monument Hill (what a disappointing road name for us to find, especially as we were at the foot of it), passed through the nice part of town, carried on out of it, turned right and found the B+B.
62 ish miles done.
They put the heating on for us though, the showers work and the bar is open. Rob got the wrong room and somebody opened the door and told him to go further down the corridor to the one he wanted. Dan from Dan and Claire walked into somebody elses room, and was told it was the wrong one. Iain called for another one of us but got the wrong room and disturbed some poor stranger. We leave in the morning, but it is only £22 each.
Chinese is on the menu tonight - athlete food. Apparently when Jim has shredded duck takeaway at home with his parents they get big chunks of duck and have to shred it themselves - have you ever heard of such a thing? Dan from Dan and Claire has had duck pancakes for the first time tonight.
If you find yourself in Carmarthen and hungry, the Fortune House take away and restaurant comes highly recommended:
Fortune House
2 Priory Street
Carmarthen
Open 7 days a week, 12.00 noon -2.00pm + 5.30pm - 11.00pm and they accept all major credit cards.
01267 243838
In bed for 9.45pm with something about Brian Clough on the TV, a few aches and pains and some sore bits (use your imagination). Lights out for an 8.30am breakfast and a super hilly day to Brecon YHA in the morning.
Remember, today is Sunday, on the 7th day God played bass guitar.
Regards,
We woke, the sun was shining in Carmarthen. The £22 per night priory Bed + Breakfast provides excellent morning food. Full english for nearly everybody and worryingly small glasses for the orange juice.
The bottles were charged with orange lucozade (tooth rot) and other bright coloured liquids, the car was packed with the bags for Brecon, and the bikes were ready.
We were off. Nearly. Jim had to have some adjustments to his gears, then we were off.
We were off. Nearly. Dan from Dan and Claire had to pick up some balti tokens, then we were off.
We were off. Nearly. JC needed some beer vouchers, and then we were off.
We were off. Down the hill onto the round about, straight over the bridge and HILL. Not a normal hill - oh no. This one had a cable car. This hill was steep, half way up it was a road called Hill Mount Rise coming off it. Was somebody having a laugh?
We climbed and petered down, climbed more and petered down, all in all for about 45 minutes. After this we hit a nice A road that was smooth and silky, at last, the first one.
The mood was high, the sun was out a bit, no rain, a small head wind (you can't have everything, you would have nowhere to put it), and miles began to fall away for the first time.
At around 11am, we stopped for a near photo opportunity with a crumbling castle in the distance and some of the lads checked in with their better looking bosses. We had a quick drink and a twix- boosts are so 2007.
Rob got sun lotion in his eyes, Dan from Dan and Claire had Welshmanshire Knee (clicks a little bit and comes and goes, but don't worry family Littley, if it keeps hurting, Iain has his Forrest Gump contraptions with him so we can tie him up in them, they may not fit though, Iain is Iain and Dan from Dan and Claire is like a Pepperami, even his extra small cycling top from Mothercare hangs off him like a tent. Most of the others look like they have body paint on, the tops are so tight).
JC gets a phone call, the gas won't be on at the youth hostel until 4pm, so slow down. Slow down, are they having a laugh, we have got 40 miles to go and it is 12pm, we haven't eaten yet - behave.
The fast A road continued into an unpronouncable village where we stopped at a post office/store/bakery/green grocers. We stocked up on icelols and drink. The lady in the shop asked if we had a bucket for collecting? Having a laugh sugar? We can't get our 16 stone bodies and bikes around the place, let alone with a bl00dy bucket jangling about, bless her though, she didn't sponsor us, but she did offer Dan from Dan and Claire some money. He mentioned that it was on the internet but their faces dropped and they mumbled a bit - this was a shop that sold drinks but it didn't have a fridge, imagine a Welsh Arkwrights but with the women from Acorn Antiques.
Back on the saddle, and we were motoring (relatively). We passed throught the village of Bethlehem, and took a few pictures by the sign. Another 15 miles in and it was time to very very eat. Jim said.
There are lots of cafes and pubs in Llandovery, we ate at the first one we saw. According to JC some of the waitresses were nice. We ate sandwiches, drank drinks and ate CAKE. Iain's cake was a foot long custard slice, demolished. Rob had trifle - gone. There were eclairs knocking about and get this, the shop had a cream dispensing machine, like a Mr Whippy thing but with real fresh cream - can you get your hat on? We don't they have those at home? Heaven. Brammer Boy La La La dropped a bombshell - he has yet to use granny gear, the lowest gear on the bike. Paul, Daz, he is doing it again, but this time he is really having a laugh. Most were sat in it all day yesterday, and he is playing dodge the easy gear, shocking.
I may have to explain. The name Brammer Boy La La La comes from the fact he is called Andy Brammer and once, on a beer bus (www.blackcountrytours.co.uk - you must go on one), we were singing along to the tune of the football song Vindaloo but altering it to peoples names, so Brammer Boy, Brammer Boy, Brammer Boy, Brammer Boy La La was born. The same thing happened to Matty Boy La La La but he was actually on the bus with us when we made it up.
Back on and only about 22 miles left, the road was nice and smooth, quite gentle hills and the average speed was up. Rob eventually had his puncture, and it was changed at an old filling station at a place called Halfway, it looked like something out of an American road movie set where they kill you and eat you. We met a friendly local who asked where we were from - Sutton Coldfield was the answer, which led to a short story about Sutton Police Station and the A38, we weren't listening, we were worried a little about our lives and he had shocking teeth. He seemed friendly enough though after the event.
As we came around one of the corners a tree nearly fell on us. You couldn't have got much stranger timing, a large branch fell on the road, missed us and went into the road. Andy and Iain moved it though and there are some pictures to prove it. This happened on the 2007 LEJOG trip, but on a much larger scale.
Carrying on and with 10 miles left we pulled into another very general store for a top up of drinks and anything else needed. The nice lady explained to JC that it was all downhill to Brecon, we didn't believe her but it was just about true.
We have passed signs welcoming us to the Brecon Beacons and the RAF were overhead practising some moves, but we were quite lucky that the A road was fast and subtle and not too hilly at all.
The YHA is at the top of a gravel hill, imagine that, and we are washed and clean, the washing is drying and the beds are made. Most of us have caught the sun on our right arms (southern facing), Andy is updating the website with a map, the link is at the bottom of this email. At the YHA they serve food, drinks and I don't think we are leaving the postcode tonight. Iain has been chased around the garden by wasps and has tried to fend them off with a stick, haven't seen him move so fast since he heard there was a pie sale on at Sainsburys with limited numbers.
There is a pub down the road and JCs wife, Long Distance Clara's parents are coming to see us, as they are from the Wales, but we will see...
They came, but we ate and they had to leave. It was nice to see them though. We ate and ate and ate. The trouble with letting Jim order is that he kind of talks you around. We ordered 14 starters, 7 mains with bread and 7 puddings, they were eaten and they were hot, super hot, my they were hot. Brammer Boy La La La ate an orange, don't worry, Mrs Brammer knows. As Iain put it, it was one of his 5 a year.
We are all super stuffed, feeling sick full, you know the feeling. We only managed a pint in the pub half a mile down the road - a semi detached house with Welsh locals in it. People kept arriving though so it must be doing something right. The walk back slow and sickly.
In bed for 9.30pm, the room is like something from an American Army film crossed with a sauna. We are hot and all 7 of us are in the same room, so it will probably be smelly, especially the way Dan from Dan and Claire has been behaving.
60 Welsh then English miles tomorrow into the Worcester where some friends and family are planning to come and see how much we are walking like John Wayne.
Feeling tired, hot, and a little sick - Andy didn't even finish his Auntie Mary shortbread (Iain did).
Be good.
Oh and if you work with JC (you may know him as Jonathon Theodore Lunardi Cotterill) please send him a message via me, he is feeling unloved.
www.suttonadventurers.com
www.justgiving.com/side2side
Did any of you go to Mango Spice? http://www.mangospice.co.uk/Charity/Side2Side/Default.aspx
Jim is sleeping on the floor again.
Well, the day started well. Chuckle Vision theme tune woke us all up at 8.00am, JC likes to hold a collection of peculiar tunes and music on his phone. You never know when you might need it one day.
No breakfast at the YHA, the plan was to get up, get out and then get fed. Mr + Mrs Aiken rolled up at about 8.45 and we were ready to roll.
We stayed on the A road out of Brecon and it was fairly nice and fast. We cruised for about an hour and it was time to stop and eat.
We stopped at a garden centre with a cafe, teas all around, except hot chocolate Iain. JC did a Daz and ordered off piste - scrammbled egg and bacon bap. He moaned that the women in the YHA the night before had handed him a fork but was holding the prongs when she did, then he promptly dropped his bacon on the floor by mistake and popped it back on his sandwich. Nice.
When we ordered the food Iain asked the lady serving us where we were and she was too embarrased to answer. It wasn't until we looked on the map that we realised. The Old Railway Line Coffee Shop, Three Cocks, Brecon 01497 847055.
We were in the middle of Three Cocks.
Have a look on the map. We found a sign for the picture further down the road, it would have been perfect but there were 6 of us in front of it.
We motored on, the average speeds were nice and high and the miles fell away. Before we knew it we found the welcome to England sign. We had conquered hilly, hilly wales, all of that training along the Birmingham to Tamworth canal must have helped no end.
JC popped his cycling poncho on, then immediately took it off. The torrential rains that we were promised hadn't turned up, it was nearly spitting but England looked like it might just be sunnier.
Dan from Dan and Claire has a little knee grief, nothing too bad. The others have general aches, pains and creaks that come with cycling 60 odd hilly miles everyday. They may all get worse before they get any better, but hey, if it was easy then everybody would do it.
There were more fast miles to come but we were on the hunt for food baby. We were on the only road with nothing, not a thing, no village shops, no dodgy premier/tesco select/nisa, not a thing. 42 miles in at 2pm and we found a pub, the crossroads it was on was called Newtown and the place was great.
The landlord looked like Rob's Uncle Kevin and had moved from Bearwood with his wife. Top bloke and couldn't do enought for us.
Comical locals; 'If I had to cycle from Brecon to Worcester, I wouldn't have started in Brecon'.
Is it down hill to Worcester, we asked? 'Mainly' was the answer.
It was a joke a minute, we even had the sit down on a rubber ring joke once I think.
JC went off piste again, for the second time today with a ham and cheese sandwich, the meals were big, welcome and it was Hand Glider nearly all around (Stowford Press I think Uncle Alan).
Mrs Mom James now knows how to use www.suttonadventurers.com which is nice, and it is the home straight to the B+B in Worcester in the afternoon.
Straight home via Fromes Hill, a Johnny Mathis hill inbetween us and there. Frome means 2 hills I think, we didn't know. So Frome Hill must mean Hill Hill Hill. Fromes Hill was steep, shockingly steep, firemen poles were fashioned off it. There is an old Russian Tank and a balti restaurant at the top of it. Worth the climb.
On the way down Brammer Boy La La La managed a top speed of 46.4mph down one part of the hill, Rob a 45.5 - scary stuff when it is only you and a bike hurtling down them, but probably as close as we are going to get to the magical 50.
The hills started to fade away a little, and the nice average speeds into Worcester came back.
We found the B+B no trouble, it is quite posh and probably wasted on us - http://www.gablesbedandbreakfast.co.uk/, the lady once again, can't do enough for us.
WAGs night tonight as we are relatively close to gome, and a Dan from Dan and Claire Convention with his supporters arriving to see what state he is in (he says his knees are ok). We are expecting THE STICK tonight, it should be fun - http://www.the-stick.co.uk/ it releases the lactic acid in your legs and is pure pleasure pain. We may have to video some of them.
We may have picked the strangest night in Worcester - The Slug and Lettuce on a Tuesday, a few suspect men knocking about the place.
Panic over, no problems - it is Salsa night!
Poor old Amy (JC clocked the name) behond the bar didn't know what hit her when 20 of us bowled in and expected food - they did a top job.
Let's play a game:
We have met Claire from Dan and Claire, Clare from Dan and Claire and Clare, Dan from Dan and Claire's Mom and Dan from Dan and Claire's Dad. (How many D's was that?).
Cellulars answer to the Mitchell Brothers turned up, but played a blinder and went for a curry instead,(not http://www.mangospice.co.uk/Charity/Side2Side/Default.aspx but close), nice to see you though.
We got the near 2 mile journey back to the B+B in a taxi, to save the legs. Tomorrow is a big bad 80-85 mile day crossing 3 motorways to Wellingborough. We have had 3 days to practice for it.
Thanks for the emails in the day, we do try and reply to all of them. Bed at 10pm now though, have a nice day tomorrow.
What would Scooby Do? Up for the 8am breakfast in the B+B, full English but with fresh fruit salad and some tea and toast. 8.30am for the bag load ritual a la Family Aiken wheels.
We smell. Poor B+B women is polite, Rob has 3 pairs of the same style socks and can't remember which ones he has worn yet (if at all).
JC has done some washing and dried his top with the hair dryer. Most cycling stuff dries quickly, but we are lazy, probably do some washing tonight, or maybe Sunday or even next week when we eventually empty our bags at home.
Today is the big day, the one where we knock the map out and can see the home straight from tonight when we eventually get there. 85-90 miles across the middle England. Team Sudocrem are ready and the sun has come out to see us. We need miles and smiles and high averages on the dials.
Dan from Dan and Claires knees are still attached to his legs and act as a hinge for his thighs and shins, no news is good news, but you try and buy some Ibuprofen between Worcester and Wellingborough today - no chance.
We leave Worcester in the 1 way system. Brammer Boy La La La notices a Barber Shop with a notice in the window: Hair Cut While You Wait - Genius.
Across the M5, motorway number 1 out of the way. We plough on up into the middle Englandshirenesses and there is a faint sound of Jerusalem and The Archers theme tune in the distance. We cut fast into Alcester, miss it, and head out towards Stratford on the big fast A roads. We successfully hold up a few lorries but try to stay out of their way.
The miles come and go and after a few hills we seem to fall upon the M40, motorway number 2 out of the way and we cross into Warwick.
Castle Hill - what a stupid name for a road, and fancy this - we have to go up it. Of course we do, it's the rules, see hill, climb hill. We a pass a cyclist on the road "Where you going lads?", Wellingborough "Bl00dy H3ll" was the answer (forgive numerical typing, it may beat some spam filters - this message seems to hit about 200 people every night).
40 odd miles down at 12pm and it is quarter to food o'clock, mucho mucho FEED ME. We stop at another unsuspecting pub The Red House we think it is called, they make sandwiches but only have cheese and ham, maybe onion but she hasn't been to the shop. Jim tries the 'we have started here and we are cycling to here' story but she shrugs her shoulders and mutters something about not knowing anywhere in a double haggis, thick, deep fried mars bar, whisky, scottish accent. JC says there is a Hollyoaks calendar in the toilets, he was pleased.
There is a chance we may meet more of Iain's family in Daventry as number 1 son is not far from there, we'll see, this pub sells beer (Old Hooky Uncle Alan, top drawer). Saving embarrasment, we won't name names, SOMEBODY has had a danger poo - gone to the toilet with their helmet on, but it all went well, and everything came out ok in the end.
200 odd miles in, and we have an injury - JC tried to balance a beer garden chair on his head, slipped and has a minor cut on his swede. He has had his helmet on since Sunday and then in the safety of the pub garden has fallen foul to blatant show boating.
We left the public and headed further east. Guess what we found, guess, go on -
Napton on the hill.
What a classic, very double flat middle England and we hit an 'on the hill' village. Not only that, but have you been to Staverton on the edge of near Daventry in the middle world of England, well they should be famous as they managed to miss the 'on the hill' bit off their sign, not only was it on the hill, it was up the hill, the hill the hill after the first hill.
We stopped and met a couple of people that were generally cycling around the place from South Wales, (he was a big unit) and their bags were massive and very very full. They were friendly and grateful for the Boost bars we gave them.
Down the hill into Weedon and we did catch up with Family Aiken at a nice pub, Jim ordered too many crisps and nuts for us to eat, we stayed for about an hour and then headed off, there was still around 25 miles left.
Straight out of the pub and onto a hill, what are the chances of that happening? We climbed and went over the last of the 3 motorways, the M1. Into Northampton and we negotiated its busy streets and one way system. From the bikes Northampton didn't seem the most picturesque place, there were a few hairy moments with cars cutting into us but nothing out of the ordinary for city cycling, it served us right for hitting it near rush hour.
We managed to find a few choice hills out of Northamptonshire as we wanted to stay off the motorway like A45. Brammer Boy La La La has had a slow puncure since the M1 crossing and 15 miles down it was decided it would be better to change it.
We upped and down through a few small towns and villages the other side of Northampton and got to Rushden eventually. We had covered 80 miles and were feeling weak and tired. We got to the postcode for the hotel, it is wrong. We cycle down the road, it isn't there. We look on google maps, it isn't there either. We call them - it is the other end of the city and off the motorway like A45, we nearly know where it is.
We can see it off the gantry bit, but we have found the only junction with no slip road down to the A45, so we climb down. You know the bit on Police Camera Action where they show children playing on busy roads - we were them - we climbed over the fence and down the sidings to get onto the road and the hotel eventually. You can just hear Suchet saying 'AND LOOK AT THESE IDIOTS BLATANTLY FLOUTING ALL SAFETY MEASURES TO GET TO WHERE THEY NEED TO BE'. Anyway we got to Rushden Travelodge which isn't quite in Rushden, 7.34pm - we finished cycling. A long day.
Mrs Brammer who is married to Brammer Boy La La La has arrived and also had trouble finding the place.
The American Diner is quite nice really, we were expecting microwave heaven but it seems to mildly rock. JC reckons the waitress looks like Ian Beale's daughter off East Enders but he got her name wrong and owes Iain £1. Burgers and steaks all around and one of the hardest things we had to do today was decide between Hot Fudge Sundae or Knickerbocker Glory. Tough.
Bed at 10.20pm, long day. Not sure what tomorrow has to bring.
Night all.
We met a nice bloke in the car park that told us that there were people like us in France and we weren't in a hurry to get going. Iain explained that we were hoping to catch them up soon.
The Aiken luggage courtesy car arrived and got full fast, we were very ever ready. We joined the dual carriageway and held fast for 4 miles before turning off onto a nice B road. Full peleton style with slip streaming and alike we had nice fast miles and hunger was striking due to lack of breakfast.
Ever been to Kimbolton? Man it is posh double posh, art galleries and boutique clothes, fear not though dear reader, we found a cafe, and it was open, and it could seat us all, and they had windows open to lose the smell we bring with us.
Dan from Dan and Claire has ordered his 82nd cappucino of the week (apparently having only discovered them a few weeks ago). Cheese on toast, bacon and cheese baguettes, they were massive and they were welcome. The woman could have smiled more, but we had just created her some work.
We applied sun cream and set off along the flattish lanes eastbound. Iain has quite bad sunburn on the arms and a little on the legs, Rob has some, Andy has arms that look like he has been dipping things in red dye just up past the elbow. Jim is just topping up his tan, we don't think he has been to work since the beginning of May, he seems to have had more holiday than Santa Claus and Judith Chalmers combined.
We motor through and round and up and down and across into Huntingdon, climb out of it and have a nearly strange experience - a chap in a Freelander decides to talk to us as we climb up the hill, to tell us that there is a cycle path on the opposite side of the road. He then manages to pull over on our side on the verge and then tell us the same as we slowly overtake him further up the hill. We aren't really sure if he was scolding us for holding him up or trying to be helpful with our safety at heart. Nevermind eh.
Apparently there is a grey area with cycle paths and using them, something about MPH and wheel size, we don't care, we had got this far on the roads this week, and previously from South to North and West to East in the years before now.
It rained on us and we got surprisingly wet, it started off light and sharp and then became big fat rain that sprayed about the place. Just as it calmed down JC popped his Poncho on. The poncho was a good idea as far as not getting any more wet goes, but equally a bad one; small pools of water built up on JCs lap, and the poncho had a negative sail effect on the cycling. Lose the poncho.
We were due a stop, it was about 35 miles in and the lunchtime hunger was starting to pang. No fear, found the most expensive pub for miles around, The Crown, Earith, average price of a sandwich £6.95. Once again there was a small look of shock as she checked that 7 of us definately wanted to get fed, she gave us a card when we left and told us to ring ahead next time we were passing. We joked there was no chance, but to be fair it was quite a nice pub:
The Crown Riverside High Street Earith Huntingdon PE28 3PP
Free camping by the river for small tents apparently.
The sun came out to see us and we did a nice fast 12 miles, it was time to stop for a drink so we pulled over by a childrens play area, small lake and field. JC spotted something interesting by the water the other side of the trees and went to investigate, but nobody else saw her.
15 odd miles left and the sun was shining still so we ploughed on. Jim had a date with Mother Dear and Grandmother Dear near the destination, it was game on.
We entered Mildenhall and a spoke broke on Andys helium carbon bike, we heard a pang and the back wheel went wobbly bobbly. Pull over, calm down, assess. It was 4.30pm, we called a few bike shops and one showed promise, we dialled the emergency panic bike fix number and Mr Aiken promptly turned up with the fast bike ambulance emergency vehicle, he couldn't have been quicker running blues and twos (although I type that and have absolutely no idea what they are, sounds exciting though), he whisked it away to specialist bike shop 15 miles away for repairs and spares, Jim and JC flew down to the rendezvous with Mother Dear and Grandmother Dear, Dan from Dan and Claire, Iain, Rob and Brammer Boy La La La checked into the Travelodge Mildenhall.
The 60 odd miles complete. We meet with Mother Dear and Grandmother Dear for a nice cup of tea, with sweets and a chat in the Little Chef, the hot chocolates here are lava hot - the Dears are abreast of the situation though from reading these emails, and that is sometimes a little strange, but also nice.
Dan from Dan and Claire manages a few more cappuchinos. The coffee shop owners of Birmingham had better stock up, he returns Saturday afternoon and looks thirsty.
The Dears very very kindly add to the cappuchino expensive sandwich kitty fund and depart, leaving us to hit the showers, spruce up and see The Family Aiken Bike Ambulance Driver + Wife in the posh nosh pub a mere 200 yards over the busy road: The Bull at Barton Mills, posh from the outside, posh from the inside and Suffolk Cyder for the bits inbetween. £5 off the bloke in the pink shirt from the Friendship Club in Stondon near Luton, thanks very much. (Broadside and a St Edmonds beer Uncle Alan - both report back very well).
The bike(s) are all healthy with a big thanks to Revel Outdoors in Newmarket www.reveloutdoors.co.uk from Andy, we aren't doing so bad and tea is on the cards. Dan from Dan and Claire's knees are good, maybe a little swollen but good really.
Tomorrow is the final installment of cycling, the autograph on the painting, the cherry on the cake, the final piece of the jigsaw, the tossing of the beer can into the bin as the guinness settles in the glass - you get the idea. Some of you won't read about the final day until you are back at work on Monday and will be possibly sitting next to one of the ludicrous legged Lowestoft bound loonies. If we aren't there then there has been a problem (or the English Distillery that Rob and Brammer Boy La La La want to possibly visit has a special offer on), if we are there, then tea, white with none or a cappuchinno (spelt different everytime) for Dan from Dan and Claire.
Puddings all around, mainly cheese and biscuits, the odd port, and all is good from Team Vaseline.
There will be an update of finale leg a la Side to Side tomorrow though. Be good and have a nice weekend if we don't catch up before then.
We slept, we woke, some of us woke to the theme music to the eighties childrens show The Cities of Gold. The luggage carriage arrived for just before 9.00am, it was getting time to lock and load. We are at the easier to find Mildenhall Travelodge right on the super busy A11 island. The layout seems to be the same as the unfindable Rushden Travelodge.
Before we knew it the 1 minute warning whistle was blown and we were off. The plan was to get a few miles done then eat breakfast. We joined the A11 towards Thetford, held up some lorries and found an unprepared burger van at the side of the road, breakfast ordered, he took an age to cook the sausages, bacon and eggs but we didn't mind the wait and the tea was nice. We stopped just by the big monument thing near the forest, you may have seen it.
We did a few fast miles on the A11, slowed down the last of the lorries and diverted off onto an unamed lane. The area isn't as flat as we would fancy, but the roads are fast enough for us.
We carry on for around 15 miles, dodging Thetford and head proper east. Brammer Boy La La La has a pedal problem, the bearings or little people inside the pedal that smile and spray oil onto the pedal flowers were tired and broken. Not even a Primus bass solo could cheer them up, they were kaput. Brammer Boy La La La struggled for another 5 miles, we pulled over and rang the bike shop in Diss, about 6 miles away on our route, they have the pedals we need. Brammer Boy La La La is a mans man and pedals nearly one legged for the 12 miles he has the problem.
We coast into Diss, find the bike shop with one of the friendliest men on earth working in it, Brammer Boy La La La gets some shiny new pedals with new people inside and new flowers. JC got treated to some nice electric blue flower dust covers for his bike, Dan from Dan and Claire got some funny 8 ball ones, Rob considered a horn but decided against it. We were back on.
The bikes were fit, we were fit, the sun was shining, the map was out, the end was sort of in sight - let's go.
We did 50 metres and pulled into a pub for beer. Speckled Hen on draught on the lake in Diss in The Waterfront. Nice.
The unofficial beer list from camp Jim for the week reads as this:
Not a bad situation for an elite athlete.
Iain has been treated to a Blue Zeus - this isn't a drink and was obtained from 'The Gents' for a few pound coins, he will report back presently with the effects of the contraption.
The bikes were fit, we were fit, the sun was shining, the map was out - let's go.
We did 50 metres, walking, the fish and chip shop was calling. Fish and chips, fish and chips - not here son, WHALE AND CHIPS, massive, the fryers had to be extended, they were big. We sat out the front on the benches in the street and watched the pregnant women smoke. Iain was sure they only used vowels when they spoke around these parts, but at least we matched with our farmer tans (arms and legs from the knees down).
It was time to carry on, slowly, cycling on a full stomach is never nice, especially after deep fried whale.
We left Diss passing Diss Discount and Diss was soon to be gone. The roads got sweepier and wider and windier. The wind was coming from the north and was just a little in our faces, it probably slowed us down a little but we were motoring, it was great.
We stopped for a photo near the Suffolk and Norfolk aviation museum, we hadn't been taking enough photos, but have no fear we were about to pass Bungay - the limits weren't endless but with some blocking of letters we can at least have a giggle when the camera is out.
We were probably 50 miles in, the real home straight of the week was coming. Our average speeds were high, the next town was Lowestoft.
We came to the island pointing to Lowestoft, veered left and hit the sign. No other way to put it, hit the sign. Dan from Dan and Claire managed to forget to clip out his feet(he has only done it about 600 times this week) and hit the sign. He bent it, should you ever drive into Lowestoft, keep an eye out for the sign that welcomes you to the town, Dan from Dan and Claire bent the bottom left bit.
Lowestoft was busy, pretty unpicturesque but home to the finish line. We just about found the point on the ground that marks the easterly point, a large brass rubbing with various distances for other places marked on it (some of which we have actually previously been to on our bikes). We had the obligatory photographs courtesy of Mr and Mrs Aiken extraordinaire.
All is good from the Team Biscuit Boost camp. 390 miles, cycled. The tiny trophies arrived from the sack magic rack bag, only 6 as Rob forgot to order his own, he realised afterwards and it has arrived at his work so he can get it on Monday. Rob also forgot to book himself in on all of the rooms, it wasn't until a few days later that it struck him that he should do a headcount and when he did, him and JC had to ring up all of the accommodation and alter the bookings. It rhymes with sickhead.
Daddy Kittler is near with the van of plenty for tomorrow, Mr and Mrs Aiken are here until the early morning before they leave early for Oxford. JC's Dad the legendary Kenneth Cornelius Lionheart Cotterill is arriving first thing to help move bodies and bags back to Birminghome.
The hotel is nice, a Premier Inn with a life size Lenny Henry in reception, Jonathan Jacob Boralias Berry kindly rang ahead and left £50 of electronic money in their till - cheers JB, the beers tasted that much sweeter with the knowledge that you probably spoke to a farmers wife that couldn't understand your thick Noddy Holder Dudlay accent.
We are happy, the sense of achievment is stalking us and will hit us when we see a full UK map,but it is all good, and another cycling adventure is ticked off.
A special mention and thanks to all the parents and their various lifting and driving skills, thanks to the wider support teams and emails received from everybody (one day we may actually meet Uncle Alan), big thanks to all of the wives, fiancees and children at home that allow us to train and then bugg3r off for the week. Baby Snakes
Lucy Amanda Zappa, Daddy loves you x .
Very special thanks to Mr + Mrs Aiken from Andy, Andy, Dan, James, Jon, Iain and Rob x .
Contrary to popular belief, cycling makes you fertile - 5 of the 7 of us are Dads to be.
Dan from Dan and Claire has got through his underwear.
Thanks for the sponsership. In the words of the absent Team Vaseline Streetly Peleton member Captain Paul Johnas Diddleborough Wright, indie/rock/blues/metal drummer extraordinaire and general groom to be 'We got here and we did it on a bike'.