Friday 27th / Saturday 28th July 2007
Picked up motorhome from Compact Camper Hire, Holme-upon-Spalding-Moor. Jacky drove the 60 miles home, and we spent a fraught 5 hours packing it. Set off at 11 p.m. to drive through the night the 420 miles to Crows-An-Wra campsite. If you don't think we'd be daft enough to take a 22 foot motorhome through the narrow streets of Mousehole, you'd be incorrect.
On arrival we set up base camp for the assault on the big beardy man with the flat head who is the (map of the) British Mainland.
We met my brother Phil's friend Sue's sister Liz and her husband Kev, who run the site, and were told that Sue was coming over from Goldsithney later on.
Back in the 'van' an assortment of loony gestures and incidents can be put down to the fact that we were all running on insufficient sleep. I nearly trepanned myself on a window that had been left open, and Matthew smashed the cafetiere (so it's back to basic bush craft survival skills for us).
Reality TV has nothing on this. I'm a calamity, get me out of here!
Rain set in about 3 p.m., a bit of a miserable end to the day, but let’s see what tomorrow brings!
Perhaps it was a mistake to have watched Titanic on the telly before we left home…
Me: “Georgina, I have built two machines which will take us the length of Britain in comfort and style. Each tyre has an air-tight compartment that is nigh-on un-puncturable by virtue of linings of the finest Kevlar known to science.”
G: “Pray tell me, papa, how many people are undertaking the journey?”
Me: “Why, just the two of us, as well you know, my pretty young girl!”
G: “But am I correct in my observation that the number of lifeboats is nil?”
Me: “Ah, don’t you worry your little head about that. The Board of Trade regulations do not stipulate a minimum number of lifeboats per bicycle. Besides, I have taken the trouble to pack sufficient spare tubes, tyres and vulcanising patches for every conceivable eventuality.”
G: "But papa, are we not going close to the bottle banks of Glasgow where we could sustain deep lacerations?"
Me: "Rest easy child, for I have charted a course which will take us well to the West, toward the benign influences of the Gulf Stream, and onto the Isle of Bute, where broken glass is unheard of and the fabled Bute-Isle Rubber trees grow. It is a cyclist's paradise: flat, yet flat-free."
And so, fully prepared, we were eager to begin the big adventure.
Sunday 29th July 2007. Leg 1: Land’s End to Lanivet.
Left Crows-An-Wra campsite 9.30 a.m. down to Land’s End in the motorhome with bikes on back. Wet start. Faffy pre-amble of photos, card-stamping etc. Bumped into Mr. Robinson from North Halifax Grammar (G and Matt’s old school). He’s cycling with some mates from Land’s End to John o’Groats in aid of Overgate Hospice. One of these chaps tells us he has been diagnosed as having MS.
Left L.E. about 11.00 a.m. (so much for an early start). Mainly back roads to Penzance, meeting Jacky and the lads near Morrisons. It’s already 1.00 p.m. – at this rate we’ll be going till 9.
Route takes us to Marazion (St. Michael’s Mount-see photo), Praze-an-Beeble (not to be confused with Zaphod Beeblebrox), then Redruth (toilet stop – in the salubrious multi-story car park.)
Finally arrive at Lanivet campsite at 9.00 p.m. very tired, but day 1 accomplished.
The latter part of the journey completed on the fast A30. Some crucial survival skills are required on this road. In particular slip-road tactics, which consist of continuing up the shoulder of the slip-road as if going off at the junction, then at the last second checking behind for traffic exiting at 60 mph, and finally traversing the neck of the slip to rejoin the trunk road. A similar procedure is needed at the “on” slip, but looking for traffic accelerating up to 60 coming onto the trunk road. Georgina took to this very useful technique like a duck to water.
Weather picked up, but a slight northerly wind all day.
Highlights:
Washed my cycling glove ‘cos I forgot I was wearing it when washing my hands.
Pete’s Pinks (sign in Leedstown).
5 buzzards, 1 lizard.
Lowlights:
Georgina’s new chain (fitted in haste before we came away) was not threaded through the derailleur properly. She cycled all the way to Penzance with it in this state. Shoot the engineer!
Georgina’s twittering transmission, after standing out in last night’s rain, drove the pair of us mad (sounded like a demented skylark was following her). Chain lube - just splash it all over.
10 miles from journey’s end we (meaning I) decided to take the scenic route, and trying to navigate back to the A30 found our way blocked by a Road Closed sign. Georgina’s morale hit rock bottom. We just walked our bikes through the road works and onto the hard shoulder, and found a lay-by to have a little cry, sis. Tried to convince G. that bikes are exempt from such things as “Road Closed” signs. I think she was still in car mode.
(Here is what I have to say on the “road closed” palaver: The “road” was not “closed”, it had not been built! So we carried our bikes across the muddy, rubbley foundations of the not yet built slip road. Thank you!)
Distance covered: 57.9 miles
Moving time: 07:04
Average speed: 8.2 mph
Maximum speed: 38.1 mph.
Picked up motorhome from Compact Camper Hire, Holme-upon-Spalding-Moor. Jacky drove the 60 miles home, and we spent a fraught 5 hours packing it. Set off at 11 p.m. to drive through the night the 420 miles to Crows-An-Wra campsite. If you don't think we'd be daft enough to take a 22 foot motorhome through the narrow streets of Mousehole, you'd be incorrect.
On arrival we set up base camp for the assault on the big beardy man with the flat head who is the (map of the) British Mainland.
We met my brother Phil's friend Sue's sister Liz and her husband Kev, who run the site, and were told that Sue was coming over from Goldsithney later on.
Back in the 'van' an assortment of loony gestures and incidents can be put down to the fact that we were all running on insufficient sleep. I nearly trepanned myself on a window that had been left open, and Matthew smashed the cafetiere (so it's back to basic bush craft survival skills for us).
Reality TV has nothing on this. I'm a calamity, get me out of here!
Rain set in about 3 p.m., a bit of a miserable end to the day, but let’s see what tomorrow brings!
Perhaps it was a mistake to have watched Titanic on the telly before we left home…
Me: “Georgina, I have built two machines which will take us the length of Britain in comfort and style. Each tyre has an air-tight compartment that is nigh-on un-puncturable by virtue of linings of the finest Kevlar known to science.”
G: “Pray tell me, papa, how many people are undertaking the journey?”
Me: “Why, just the two of us, as well you know, my pretty young girl!”
G: “But am I correct in my observation that the number of lifeboats is nil?”
Me: “Ah, don’t you worry your little head about that. The Board of Trade regulations do not stipulate a minimum number of lifeboats per bicycle. Besides, I have taken the trouble to pack sufficient spare tubes, tyres and vulcanising patches for every conceivable eventuality.”
G: "But papa, are we not going close to the bottle banks of Glasgow where we could sustain deep lacerations?"
Me: "Rest easy child, for I have charted a course which will take us well to the West, toward the benign influences of the Gulf Stream, and onto the Isle of Bute, where broken glass is unheard of and the fabled Bute-Isle Rubber trees grow. It is a cyclist's paradise: flat, yet flat-free."
And so, fully prepared, we were eager to begin the big adventure.
Sunday 29th July 2007. Leg 1: Land’s End to Lanivet.
Left Crows-An-Wra campsite 9.30 a.m. down to Land’s End in the motorhome with bikes on back. Wet start. Faffy pre-amble of photos, card-stamping etc. Bumped into Mr. Robinson from North Halifax Grammar (G and Matt’s old school). He’s cycling with some mates from Land’s End to John o’Groats in aid of Overgate Hospice. One of these chaps tells us he has been diagnosed as having MS.
Left L.E. about 11.00 a.m. (so much for an early start). Mainly back roads to Penzance, meeting Jacky and the lads near Morrisons. It’s already 1.00 p.m. – at this rate we’ll be going till 9.
Route takes us to Marazion (St. Michael’s Mount-see photo), Praze-an-Beeble (not to be confused with Zaphod Beeblebrox), then Redruth (toilet stop – in the salubrious multi-story car park.)
Finally arrive at Lanivet campsite at 9.00 p.m. very tired, but day 1 accomplished.
The latter part of the journey completed on the fast A30. Some crucial survival skills are required on this road. In particular slip-road tactics, which consist of continuing up the shoulder of the slip-road as if going off at the junction, then at the last second checking behind for traffic exiting at 60 mph, and finally traversing the neck of the slip to rejoin the trunk road. A similar procedure is needed at the “on” slip, but looking for traffic accelerating up to 60 coming onto the trunk road. Georgina took to this very useful technique like a duck to water.
Weather picked up, but a slight northerly wind all day.
Highlights:
Washed my cycling glove ‘cos I forgot I was wearing it when washing my hands.
Pete’s Pinks (sign in Leedstown).
5 buzzards, 1 lizard.
Lowlights:
Georgina’s new chain (fitted in haste before we came away) was not threaded through the derailleur properly. She cycled all the way to Penzance with it in this state. Shoot the engineer!
Georgina’s twittering transmission, after standing out in last night’s rain, drove the pair of us mad (sounded like a demented skylark was following her). Chain lube - just splash it all over.
10 miles from journey’s end we (meaning I) decided to take the scenic route, and trying to navigate back to the A30 found our way blocked by a Road Closed sign. Georgina’s morale hit rock bottom. We just walked our bikes through the road works and onto the hard shoulder, and found a lay-by to have a little cry, sis. Tried to convince G. that bikes are exempt from such things as “Road Closed” signs. I think she was still in car mode.
(Here is what I have to say on the “road closed” palaver: The “road” was not “closed”, it had not been built! So we carried our bikes across the muddy, rubbley foundations of the not yet built slip road. Thank you!)
Distance covered: 57.9 miles
Moving time: 07:04
Average speed: 8.2 mph
Maximum speed: 38.1 mph.
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