tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51317814217208507882024-03-19T03:47:37.645-07:00Bikes And BeesSwarm_Catcherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06635064315471827418noreply@blogger.comBlogger109125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5131781421720850788.post-90983036236128851732017-05-09T12:14:00.001-07:002017-05-09T13:41:28.456-07:00FNRttKust 2017This time last week we were all making our way to Brussels. Except for Claud. Claud's train never left Swindon. That was a great shame. Claud was wearing Lion of Flanders cycling socks and everything! <br />
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I made my way to Brussels with the help of my sister Kris who drove my bike and I to Lichtervelde train station. Me not finding my lock was on my mind, and Kris suggested we visit the local bike shop - there was plenty of time. I'm pleased we did. Not only was I able to buy a lock, I had a good laugh with the owner and stepped back in time 30 years.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">"Hooglede velomaker"</span></td></tr>
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He made a couple of philosophical statements, like 'you can buy a bike in every sweetshop, but you can't buy sweets in a bike shop'. Or did I mis-hear that? His point was that bike shops are disappearing. Well, if you are in <a href="https://www.google.com/maps/@50.9771989,3.0833808,3a,75y,99.59h,92.71t,0.58r/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1s06y1MhSXX5b7WSXPZCS9aw!2e0!7i13312!8i6656" target="_blank">Hooglede</a> (which is near Gits), you might like to pop in before this one disappears. You can't buy sweets, but you can buy pots and pans and have your dry cleaning done to boot.<br />
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Kris left me in good spirits and totally up for the ride, the fifth and final edition of the Flemish Night Ride to the Kust. Once in Brussels, after a super fast train journey, I was even more smiley as I saw Tintin and Snowy popping up from behind some buildings.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Kuifje and Bobbie</span></td></tr>
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I made my way to the Grand Place and had my customary waffle with strawberries and a hot chocolate. Yum! It didn't take long for Fridays to arrive.<br />
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The Fridays!</div>
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We left at 11PM as planned - amazing! We were lead out by our Brussels specialist BalkanExpress. The Eddy Merckx factory was a photo opportunity not to be missed. At Groot Bijgaarden we were joined, as planned, by Frank, a local randonneur and friend of the Fridays. <br />
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It was a quiet night. We had no mechanicals, no rain and no headwind. The most noise we heard was being shouted at in Aalst, as usual. No, not as usual, more than usual! I had told Frank that we usually get shouted at and he replied 'just shout back'! So we did, and the punters loved it. Think I heard an 'Allez Eddy'. <br />
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Some of the more unusual experiences were being stopped by a hedgehog (makes a change from the kangaroos)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">It's a hedgehog!! </span><span style="font-size: small;">(photo by deckertim)</span></td></tr>
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and yorkshire preferring to walk the route than cycle it.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">yorkshire</span></td></tr>
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The middle of the night stop is at only 60km, so we can't be hallucinating yet. But when you enter our hosts' house and see the tables 'groaning with food' as StuAff put it, you think you have arrived for something more wonderful than a mad cyclists tea party in an 'Alice in Wonderland' kind of world. I wanted to try everything and began regretting eating that waffle in Brussels!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: start;">Thank you sooooo much!!</span></td></tr>
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Yorkshire was sure that this stop was overhyped, but 'it turns out to be quite the opposite' she said. There was soup, two types of soup, quiches, three types of quiches, croissants, three types of croissants, chocolates, lemon cake, brownies, bread, cheese, ham, fruit, yoghurt ....<br />
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And then we left holding a take-away bag with more of the home-made yumminess.<br />
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On to Bruges, making good time, even ahead of time. This is going swimmingly. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Smedenpoort - Bruges (photo by deckertim)</span></td></tr>
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I love the stretch between Bruges and Ostende. That's when the sun comes through.<br />
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However it's also the stretch and the time of day when Sunday cyclists come out for their training. I want to emphasise that cycling clubs in Belgium are at the top of the pecking order. They have priority over everything and everybody. You see, amongst them will be the future Tour de France winner. So if they want to go four abreast whilst we hug the path edge, single file, then that is what needs to happen. Don't fight it, let the future Tour de France winner and his entourage do his thing. <br />
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There is no point being annoyed at the road works either, is there. But I must admit that I was ggrrr'd to find the smooth tarmac of the 'Groendreef' dug up. We were nearly there and I had visualised sailing into Ostende, through the park, onto the esplanade ... Never mind, it's not too much hardship really. Just like club cyclists on the tow path, we should expect some road works somewhere along our 143km route. It's 142 now, yet again a couple of kinks have been removed, thanks to Frank's advice. <br />
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Going along the esplanade was a treat. That is proper Ostende.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ostende (photo by deckertim)</span></td></tr>
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Caruso didn't disappoint either. What a breakfast!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sums it up.</span></td></tr>
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So that was the fifth and final FNRttKust. There are options for next year. It could even be self running. Date, time and location is known, people could just turn up. There is the 24 't Hoekske in Gent and the Bruges station break is convenient enough. In Ostende, there are plenty of options. Caruso was initially chosen because they open at 7AM - not that we ever got there at that time! </div>
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Thanks to everybody who has joined and contributed to the FNRttK ride over the last five years - it went from strength to strength. The last version has been billed 'the best ever'. It certainly was the longest, ETA was spot on for the first time, had the most riders, we ate the most food and had the least mechanicals. It will be hard not to turn up next year ...<br />
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Photos are here: <a href="http://plus.google.com/113386555289222850470/posts/DiiU2epgTHt" target="_blank">Photos</a><br />
Photos by Tim: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/29393915@N02/sets/72157680112121303/">Photos by Tim</a></div>
Swarm_Catcherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06635064315471827418noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5131781421720850788.post-36019888851251165342016-05-10T04:23:00.000-07:002016-05-15T20:04:36.809-07:00FNRttKust 2016<link href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/--2yqe2uP0TA/VyrX1BooBwI/AAAAAAAAabg/aRNVIqICJN04UXEqPdMbgb9LVet16YtLwCCo/s400/IMG_0081.JPG"></link> Night rides are always an adventure. An adventure more for some than for others. The tandem riders, R and S, had the best share of it having to deal with a longer (3 hours) and longer (5 hours) delay at the Eurotunnel. They pulled out all the stops to get to Brussels. BalkanExpress was a hero in assisting them with options for parking/riding/meeting us. The Eurostar travellers got a potential delay fright also but were not affected. And this year, it was Gordon who had the pre-ride puncture. My 9 minute train delay is not worth mentioning. <br />
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No, my real sense of adventure came when a police car strolled along side us. 'Titus!', I was screaming in my head. Titus is our own Friday bobby, but Titus couldn't make the ride this time. I was aware that not all of us were wearing hi-viz vests, we were not always sticking to the cycle paths, what else? Are flashing lights allowed, are they mounted too high, too low? We're all going to get arrested. Instead of cycling all night, we'll spend the night in a police station. Weak tea ... no, coffee in a paper cup. I thought all this in a flash, when the police man wound down the window, smiled and said in English: 'One of your riders has a broken chain'. Oh, is that all! A chain breaking is one of the more 'advanced' mechanicals you can have on the road, but now, it didn't matter. It also doesn't matter when you have chain repairer extra-ordinaire mmmmartin taking charge. Well done mmmmartin on doing the allegedly impossible which is to fix an 11 speed chain with a 10 speed chain link.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Chain repair about to begin</span></td></tr>
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We left Brussels later than planned, but that didn't matter either. We were all present. I texted our middle of the night hosts to say we're setting off an hour late and after getting a reply of 'no worries', the ride could begin. Hurrah!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Let's go!</span> </td></tr>
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I really, really enjoyed the event. This was helped by hearing re-assuring comments of appreciation during the ride. I was worried how the towpath detour near Aalst would be perceived. I don't mind going off-track when I'm on my own, but in the company of others, I go a little twitchy. But I should never have, BalkanExpress, John and others were at hand to put us right and nobody seemed bothered.</div>
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That was the point where I relaxed my shoulders and thought what a wonderful team effort this ride is. Everybody puts energy into logistics, the bikes, the route, the riding, and, maybe unwittingly, the atmosphere. I guess that's the spirit of the Fridays!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Fridays! </span><br />
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After Karen said "See you next year", and several people mentioning they've already put next year's date in the diary, I now can't wait for the 2017 edition, which will be the 5th anniversary.<br />
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For that I have a grand Ostende finale planned. Well, grand-ish! Although I think the Oosteroever and ferry option was better than going the ongoing-road-works and tramline-plenty way, I have a third option in mind. I'll do a recce. If it doesn't work out, we'll stick with the ferry (with optional Fort Napoleon and sea view detour).<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The North Sea</span> <br />
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The other optional detour we'll factor in, is the Bruges scenic tour. It appears that the 'kletsekoppen' are not everybody's cup of coffee, especially when you're on a tandem. Going through tourist free Bruges is a unique experience, but you certainly don't have to risk your upright position for it.<br />
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In my mind it was a mild night, but in reality it wasn't. It was a bit nippy. But no rain! Ten days earlier the forecast was for 9 hours of rain. We didn't have a drop of it, although something was falling out of the sky when we went past the Aalst brewery. <br />
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'It's better than my Christmas' replied John after I likened Karen and David's table setup to Christmas. A three course meal we had, with cutlery to match! That asparagus and pea quiche was superb! So was the soup, and the humus, and the cake... The fact that, as vegetarians, they even bought ham for us, shows to what extend they cater for us. Very generous and absolutely splendid. We can't thank them enough!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hRqrDzYIpUU/VyrXyrvgUQI/AAAAAAAAabk/rKAT6V0lZY08T9avbsswdkhz3V3EdK0fgCKgB/s1600/IMG_0052.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hRqrDzYIpUU/VyrXyrvgUQI/AAAAAAAAabk/rKAT6V0lZY08T9avbsswdkhz3V3EdK0fgCKgB/s320/IMG_0052.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Anyone for spiced pumpkin soup? </span><br />
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We leave replenished for the longer than you think Gent-Brugge stretch. I'm going to give up on worrying about the Bruges stop also. We'll time the ride to go to the posh Carpe Diem tea rooms for 7AM, if we're later, then we'll go to the quicker Panos at the station.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Perfect for a quick stop - but loos are 'normally' closed till 9AM </span></div>
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The night was topped off with an amazing sunrise. The sun over the misty canal always makes for good photos. </div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/--2yqe2uP0TA/VyrX1BooBwI/AAAAAAAAabg/Alt_0x-4GcMjlotihJ8eryfL4cT1TkilgCKgB/s1600/IMG_0081.JPG"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/--2yqe2uP0TA/VyrX1BooBwI/AAAAAAAAabg/Alt_0x-4GcMjlotihJ8eryfL4cT1TkilgCKgB/s320/IMG_0081.JPG" /></a></div>
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R & S' observations on the cycling behaviour on the towpaths prompts me to add a few notes on this. You know that coureurs are god in Belgium. And club cyclist are pretty high in the pecking order. They own the road and in our case the towpath. I kept shouting out when cyclists were coming our way, but I also kept looking behind me to see if everybody was ok. It can be scary when they race through us. But you can't tame the proud Flemish cycling lions. Best we stick to single file and hold our breath on that stretch, when the Sunday morning club runs are happening. Still, R & S got the last laugh when the tandem engineered a free ride with the Maes fiets club.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Spot the tandem</span></td></tr>
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Here's to a fantastic edition of the FNRttKust. I was pleased to hear everybody who was going home, got home OK, and everybody who was continuing their journey got on their way.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lBEoRHAP-VY/VyrX7reuDoI/AAAAAAAAabQ/bgGp_GnmUW4JNqJW25s1AjyHLZaMEf7XgCKgB/s1600/IMG_0126.jpg"></a><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sante! Well done everybody!</span> </td></tr>
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The rest of the photos are here: <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/113386555289222850470/6281069764233610145?authuser=0&feat=directlink" target="_blank">MyPhotos</a>
Swarm_Catcherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06635064315471827418noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5131781421720850788.post-77784551751969164772016-04-10T22:41:00.001-07:002016-04-10T22:41:30.271-07:00The Boat Ride 200 PERMIt was a day for bullfinches, buzzards and bumblebees. I could add bluebells also.<br />
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At the most northern point, Stoke Bruerne, I felt connected because of the Grand Union Canal that passes through Hanwell also.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nQTfhiyfEqQ/VwsyxVnjLgI/AAAAAAAAaGs/F0EC283hWp4_YeFToLFQ98cY9vyb3ASdQ/s1600/IMG_4993.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nQTfhiyfEqQ/VwsyxVnjLgI/AAAAAAAAaGs/F0EC283hWp4_YeFToLFQ98cY9vyb3ASdQ/s320/IMG_4993.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Stoke Bruerne</span></td></tr>
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The 'Road Closed' sign reminded me of the rope across the Solovetsky Monastery shop: it's there to be climbed over! The road turned out to be closed for cars, but not for cyclists or pedestrians. Try not to get angry!<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wwv7BIJHURU/Vwsyx9V4FhI/AAAAAAAAaGw/rlcW1R4oHfsmSpYWjtwYVT3_vDSEL-OWw/s1600/IMG_4997.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wwv7BIJHURU/Vwsyx9V4FhI/AAAAAAAAaGw/rlcW1R4oHfsmSpYWjtwYVT3_vDSEL-OWw/s320/IMG_4997.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I didn't have a good time collecting receipts. The first tea room's receipt didn't have the location nor the time. I explained and they stamped a card that still didn't have the location nor the time. The first pub was open, but not open for business. The second pub was jam packed full of Grand National punters that I walked straight back out. I took various photos for proof of passage and then I gave up and relied on my memory that you can use gps logs for validation, which indeed is true.<br />
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I didn't take many other photos. I wasn't inspired, didn't see any buckets in trees. I wasn't very mindful either. My mind was elsewhere. Shame on me. But I couldn't help but look forward to the next day's Southall Vaisakhi.<br />
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I was pleased to get home in time, but all in all, I'm putting this down to a training ride. Swarm_Catcherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06635064315471827418noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5131781421720850788.post-76737558600896666292016-04-06T23:11:00.002-07:002016-04-25T22:34:10.824-07:00FNRttC SouthendI was on the hunt. Not on a witch hunt, that's just a bonus<span style="text-align: center;">. But I found a tree!</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jMc6KE1yRp4/VwXnM_uaMRI/AAAAAAAAaGA/a0YHUSxOjPc5jMDPYnSyvRB2vEOvNFskg/s1600/IMG_4918.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jMc6KE1yRp4/VwXnM_uaMRI/AAAAAAAAaGA/a0YHUSxOjPc5jMDPYnSyvRB2vEOvNFskg/s400/IMG_4918.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Lovely tree</span></td></tr>
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This ride was a game of two halves. The first half was in the dark, in rain-ish weather and with tailwind all the way to Southend. The second half was in daylight, in glorious sunshine and with a stinger of a headwind all the way back to London. I had a great time!</div>
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Of course, the first half was in the company of the Fridays. Riding out of London, it has become second nature to take note of buildings. Here we are by the Shard.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VjEY0JjtcLw/Vv4DOkfuQ-I/AAAAAAAAZ8g/tTx78V4ZFGEwbVB81alUW1pLgCm7CbXgQ/s1600/IMG_4905.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VjEY0JjtcLw/Vv4DOkfuQ-I/AAAAAAAAZ8g/tTx78V4ZFGEwbVB81alUW1pLgCm7CbXgQ/s400/IMG_4905.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Fridays by the Shard</span></td></tr>
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It wasn't long before there was a puncture. We got off our bikes, parked up and sheltered from the drizzle whilst the repairs were being done. Then, because it has become second nature to look up at buildings, waw! we were right by the Walkie Talkie coming up like an alien looking to see what we were up to.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VmGupjB990c/Vv4DPj5jmII/AAAAAAAAZ8g/YB6CF-saH7szGM3xnNExl4tZHrILSHX3g/s1600/IMG_4908.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VmGupjB990c/Vv4DPj5jmII/AAAAAAAAZ8g/YB6CF-saH7szGM3xnNExl4tZHrILSHX3g/s320/IMG_4908.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Walkie Talkie</span></td></tr>
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The half way stop was a good service station, overwhelmed coffee bar staff type of stop. I often feel like helping out. But we had plenty of time, so there was no need. We were not on an audax.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-shgokrjinB4/Vv4DQW9OPFI/AAAAAAAAZ8g/oeKWnyAACVImW3SfNUCXyPNXZphJSC0dA/s1600/IMG_4913.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-shgokrjinB4/Vv4DQW9OPFI/AAAAAAAAZ8g/oeKWnyAACVImW3SfNUCXyPNXZphJSC0dA/s400/IMG_4913.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Thankfully there were two of them</span></td></tr>
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The run in to Southend wasn't so dramatic, as it had already been light for a while. I was still taken by the exotic look of the seafront, because of the palm trees.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Palm trees in Southend</span></td></tr>
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Breakfast was in a great cafe overlooking the beach and sea. That was a great spot to enjoy a full English breakfast, soak up the sun and have chats about rides past and future. There is revival in the air. Like me, a few others had taken a break in 2015, but are now out an about looking for new adventures. I didn't want to leave, but I had planned to ride back to London, so as to get some more miles in, in preparation for the Texas Stampede in May. Reluctantly, and after asking Titus for some oil, I set off.</div>
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It turned out to be a fantastic journey back. Sun, sun, sun! Sun means ice cream. After a night of drizzle it was appropriate that I stopped at the Puddle cafe. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ice cream at the Puddle cafe</span></td></tr>
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I did my usual straight through everything route which takes you through the estate backstreets of Ilford to tourist laden canal towpaths. With that sunshine, people were out creating a festival-like atmosphere. I was tired from battling against the headwind and the pesky little climbs dotted around London, but I was loving it.</div>
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An even bigger smile appeared when I came across this:</div>
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Many, many thanks to Titus, Martin, TECs and all the Fridays (including Simon) for yet again, a wonderful experience.</div>
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The rest of the photos are here: <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/113386555289222850470/FNRttCSouthend?authuser=0&feat=directlink" target="_blank">MyPhotos</a></div>
Swarm_Catcherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06635064315471827418noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5131781421720850788.post-81796849174527389642016-04-04T22:07:00.001-07:002016-04-10T22:17:55.854-07:00The 3Down 300It's a good audax when it's sunny enough to treat yourself to an ice cream. It's an even better audax when you have the time to treat yourself to an ice cream. And it gets even better when the ice cream you choose is locally made: New Forest Ice Cream. That was a very nice treat!<br />
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<a href="http://newforesticecreamltd.co.uk/cs/Satellite?blobcol=urlimagefile&blobheader=image%2Fpng&blobheadername1=Content-Disposition&blobheadervalue1=inline%3B+filename%3Dnfi-home-logo-0.png&blobkey=id&blobtable=UXImage&blobwhere=1355711450647&ssbinary=true&moddate=2014-02-20%2006:18:42" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://newforesticecreamltd.co.uk/cs/Satellite?blobcol=urlimagefile&blobheader=image%2Fpng&blobheadername1=Content-Disposition&blobheadervalue1=inline%3B+filename%3Dnfi-home-logo-0.png&blobkey=id&blobtable=UXImage&blobwhere=1355711450647&ssbinary=true&moddate=2014-02-20%2006:18:42" /></a></div>
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It was a tough ride though! I found it physically and mentally much tougher than the hillier Dean 300 a couple of weeks ago. The headwind on the way down to the New Forest sapped energy and morale. And on the way back it rained for a good few hours.<br />
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Still, on a day when you have local ice cream, you see your first Great Grey Shrike, can admire the huge Bozedown Alpaca Farm and enjoy the picturesque Test Valley, you can be happy that you're out and about.<br />
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I was in good company also with James and Roger.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2UBuamqhMdY/VwFUGKnx5OI/AAAAAAAAaCg/PoLBcwyFE08BpuT3TdNH_0Gein7jRiu8Q/s1600/IMG_4988.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2UBuamqhMdY/VwFUGKnx5OI/AAAAAAAAaCg/PoLBcwyFE08BpuT3TdNH_0Gein7jRiu8Q/s320/IMG_4988.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Having a break with James and Roger</span></td></tr>
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We helped each other along. Great team work! I loved the way Roger shouted out the instructions. At first they gave me a fright. Imagine you're in zone doing a 5 miles stretch, mesmerised by the rhythm of the pedal revolutions and soothed by the sound of rain coming off our wheels. And then you hear this shout coming from the back. I thought something bad had happened like he'd forgotten his brevet card in Fordingbridge or he had just run over a stoat. But no, they were very helpful 'left at T and immediately right' instructions shouted out at the top of his voice. <br />
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I took a couple of pictures of the New Forest and noted how it's not new and in places looks nothing like a forest. <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_Forest" target="_blank">Wiki</a> tells us that 'Nova Foresta' was recorded in the Domesday book in 1086, and the reasons why it was called 'new'.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-30N5wAAeP7M/VwFUEtAkwmI/AAAAAAAAaCg/Isk9K17aiw8HsAdXtXT1Nr2ccBVfbAvUg/s1600/IMG_4975.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-30N5wAAeP7M/VwFUEtAkwmI/AAAAAAAAaCg/Isk9K17aiw8HsAdXtXT1Nr2ccBVfbAvUg/s320/IMG_4975.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The New Forest</span></td></tr>
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There is a great variety of animals you see there: the ponies, donkeys, black pigs, Highland cattle, and other cattle I don't know the breed name of (Galloway?). The sun was still out then and I loved the cattle's colours of brown, sandy, copper, red, black, grey all blending into a lovely scheme.<br />
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The most bizarre moment was when I saw a bucket in a tree.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Bucket in a tree</span></td></tr>
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Thanks to Ian and team for organising.<br />
<br />
Photos are here: <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/113386555289222850470/The3Down30002?authuser=0&feat=directlink" target="_blank">MyPhotos</a><br />
<br />
Other thoughts:<br />
<ul>
<li>Finishing at 1:15 AM</li>
<li>Very nice welcome back at HQ where soup and bacon rolls were presented. Thank you!</li>
<li>During the dark section, a deer crossing the road right in front of us</li>
<li>Hearing owls</li>
</ul>
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<br />Swarm_Catcherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06635064315471827418noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5131781421720850788.post-50023385528494345082016-03-30T21:44:00.000-07:002016-03-30T23:18:08.648-07:00The Dean 300I was at the start on time (ref 2012) and Andy was at the start on time (ref 2014). All was looking good. But where were the organisers? Did they not get to the start on time? News of them having set up camp at the back of the Peartee car park travelled like messages in an ants colony. A trail of riders eventually made their way to the back, picking up brevet cards just in time for the 6AM off. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9GR2QnWOkTE/VvORaOiExoI/AAAAAAAAZ4M/zPiOBDjMMDcQR04l2KTMkhjgfZ13D7NGw/s1600/IMG_4860.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9GR2QnWOkTE/VvORaOiExoI/AAAAAAAAZ4M/zPiOBDjMMDcQR04l2KTMkhjgfZ13D7NGw/s320/IMG_4860.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">False start</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
I had entered the Dean not being sure if I would be fit enough for a hilly 300. But the more I talked myself out of it, the more I saw it as a challenge. By Tuesday I was completely up for it and even the forecasted low temperatures didn't put me off anymore. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ6f87wQANMQGAXZgjbqJouh-trrBbjeUgd9Mt-B4BD7nA32MfCJxsqJvCTC0b9IzEHHHQTi9jq0jjBkiuvpsrgIitMXeE-ZBpga2osHFS6sHegTkv8j3ut7H-wPSaZyGmvsa28qonF73Y/s1600/Screen+Shot+2016-03-28+at+15.41.24.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ6f87wQANMQGAXZgjbqJouh-trrBbjeUgd9Mt-B4BD7nA32MfCJxsqJvCTC0b9IzEHHHQTi9jq0jjBkiuvpsrgIitMXeE-ZBpga2osHFS6sHegTkv8j3ut7H-wPSaZyGmvsa28qonF73Y/s400/Screen+Shot+2016-03-28+at+15.41.24.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Dean 300</span></td></tr>
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'I had to try'. This is what Michael said also. Although he had booked a Travelodge room for the Friday night, he went back home to pick up a crucial electronic gear shifting battery. We saw him the next day. Despite having had only 1.5 hours sleep he said 'he had to try'. Michael, Pete and I ended up in a triplette. It's always good to have company after dark. I knew Michael was digging deep when he asked whether there was a cat sitting in the middle of the road. That rubbish bag looked nothing like a cat!<br />
<br />
The ride went very well. I was pleasantly surprised. The high gearing on my new bike didn't trouble me too much although I did walk up the 14% climb to Somerset Monument and also up Hackpen Hill. At least Hackpen Hill has a name, I thought. From Chepstow onwards I had planned to count the hills from 1 to 10. The first climb towards Thornbury, after the Severn Bridge, didn't seem so bad, so I didn't count that one. I certainly couldn't count the ones I walked. By the time we got to Lambourn it was time to give up on the counting idea. <br />
<br />
Sometimes I can't tell if we have headwind or tailwind. Early on I put my buff over my ears and pretended there was no wind at all. When Pete and I crossed the Severn Bridge, the angle of Pete's bike told me for sure which direction the wind came from! Our triplette did well to take it in turns to battle against the wind. Pete seemed to revive, having not felt very well in he first half, and took the lead a big proportion of the time. Thank you Pete! <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qUUtmLe4HRs/VvORed9nTII/AAAAAAAAZ4M/CpIT1q0ReGosWyHTxnSLDfxoH0YDpKv4g/s1600/IMG_4878.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qUUtmLe4HRs/VvORed9nTII/AAAAAAAAZ4M/CpIT1q0ReGosWyHTxnSLDfxoH0YDpKv4g/s320/IMG_4878.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Camp Hackney</span></td></tr>
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I didn't feel broken like I normally do after a long ride. I could still talk and even complete my brevet card! It was great to finish back at camp Hackney where there was a tent, outdoor heater, soup, tea, beer, laughter, company and Andy. Andy came out of his van to say hello, give a blanket, hold my torch whilst I did my brevet card, have a chat. How wonderful! This has been the best finish to the Dean ever. <br />
<br />
In previous rides, I would be totally shattered, struggle my bike in the car, struggle myself into a sleeping bag, sleep till I get too cold, then drive off to the next service station. This time, there was the welcoming finish party, and then I made my way to the Travelodge hotel. Wheeled my bike into the room. Had a shower and ate rice pudding. Then! Then, I still had the energy and inclination to get my brand new chain link pliers out. Took the chain off the bike and put it in a pot of degreaser. Amazing! The next day I completed the chain cleaning and compared the job to professional oven cleaning: 'comes out shining like jewellery'. <br />
<br />
I didn't take many photos. It was a rather grey day and I was in minimalist mode. I did take a photo of the farm though.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-d4KQJAWNxIE/VvORbBz0vjI/AAAAAAAAZ4M/6GuktJ5MUjIUfH9G_CiwfE1tKxqRrU6BQ/s1600/IMG_4863.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-d4KQJAWNxIE/VvORbBz0vjI/AAAAAAAAZ4M/6GuktJ5MUjIUfH9G_CiwfE1tKxqRrU6BQ/s320/IMG_4863.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2016</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JQOq7C7rupc/UznWrsIuvQI/AAAAAAAAXOc/CdvjXQ8-9moj3QyYfAsFmpBFE64a1cnrw/s1600/IMG_2956.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JQOq7C7rupc/UznWrsIuvQI/AAAAAAAAXOc/CdvjXQ8-9moj3QyYfAsFmpBFE64a1cnrw/s320/IMG_2956.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2014</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sOclzRH6BNA/S68KvXB0nkI/AAAAAAAAGDQ/6QvgcNF8BWAQ5fyP-6ksrIFsUAD-TYmKA/s1600/IMG_3479.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sOclzRH6BNA/S68KvXB0nkI/AAAAAAAAGDQ/6QvgcNF8BWAQ5fyP-6ksrIFsUAD-TYmKA/s320/IMG_3479.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2009</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
My minimalist mode was in full action in the Malmesbury Waitrose. I had started eating my chosen cakes before I could pay. And when the man at the till asked if I had a Waitrose card, he looked up at at me and answered his own question by saying 'it would slow you down wouldn't it'? Perfect!<br />
<br />
Many thanks to Justin and Chris for organising. Much appreciated.<br />
<br />
Photos are here: <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/113386555289222850470/TheDean300?authuser=0&feat=directlink" target="_blank">MyPhotos</a><br />
<br />
Other thoughts:<br />
<ul>
<li>Lots of wildlife, dead and alive: badgers, deer, various birds of prey including the red kites.</li>
<li>Familiar faces like Frank and Steven</li>
<li>Chatting with fboab</li>
<li>The kilometers clicking away quickly, till I got to 279 which seemed to last for hours.</li>
<li>The women at the Newent Co-op asking if I'm doing 'that 300'</li>
<li>Getting a hotel room before and after the event makes so much sense!</li>
</ul>
Swarm_Catcherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06635064315471827418noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5131781421720850788.post-61763366918667236182016-03-13T12:10:00.001-07:002016-03-13T12:27:29.950-07:00The Kennet Valley RunWe got all the seasons' weathers: frost, rain, sleet, hail, snow, sunshine, wind, gusts and if a rainbow was a weather type, I'd add that in also. Apt that I was using Continental Grand Prix 4 Season tyres.<br />
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Myself, I was dressed for one season only: winter. I was ready for the predicted RealFeel™-1. <br />
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There was a big turnout as you can tell from the amount of brevet cards that were laid out on the table at the start.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-K30BoMP6Cek/VtybUrDvHwI/AAAAAAAAZzM/ZRH-EXTg_fw/s1600/IMG_4839.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-K30BoMP6Cek/VtybUrDvHwI/AAAAAAAAZzM/ZRH-EXTg_fw/s320/IMG_4839.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Brevet cards</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CYoOjvwvYj8/VtybU0OQp7I/AAAAAAAAZzM/_iC9RIcrA7c/s1600/IMG_4842.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CYoOjvwvYj8/VtybU0OQp7I/AAAAAAAAZzM/_iC9RIcrA7c/s320/IMG_4842.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">It looks like others are dressed for one season also</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
There were familiar faces, like Titus. He's more familiar from the FNRttC than from Audax. But there is a trans-discipline movement in full swing. There are several Fridays having a go at Audax. Friday Miranda did the 100km version of this ride. Her <a href="http://www.the5milecyclist.com/apps/blog/show/43841801-audax-no-1-in-the-bag" target="_blank">blog post</a> reminds me of my early audax ride reports: treasuring the brevet card, absorbing all the advice given but needing to find your own way, the landscape and wildlife, teething problems with GPS and navigation, finishing with a great sense of achievement and wanting more.<br />
<br />
Finishing this ride earnt me my first two audax points since July 2014. I felt like a newbie myself, and especially with a new bike I am adjusting to. It was when I got a puncture that I realised how out of audax routine I am. I had to think! When passing riders asked if I was ok, I replied with a hesitant yes. And the riders hesitantly continued on, probably thinking 'she doesn't sound too sure'. I was ok of course, just getting used to the feel of the bike and learning its quirks. These quirks are things like how the bike balances with the front wheel off, and how things fall out of the new saddle bag compared with the old.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ydrWaKQgPhs/VtybYGqA7qI/AAAAAAAAZzM/B5R3EaVm3vY3FDZnmaxV_XV33fGEN6NPQ/s1600/IMG_4854.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ydrWaKQgPhs/VtybYGqA7qI/AAAAAAAAZzM/B5R3EaVm3vY3FDZnmaxV_XV33fGEN6NPQ/s320/IMG_4854.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Had my own puncture soon after I took this picture</span></td></tr>
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<div>
I had been prepared for the hills around Bratton. A good break and meal at the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/250601478300191/photos/a.265231643503841.86820.250601478300191/1334347953258866/?type=3&theater" target="_blank">Pickleberry Coffee and Gift Shop</a> set me up nicely and I didn't struggle too much compared with previous years. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzqz2pqTTjXRXfIih8cTsaL-QNXTmP26inbcck4gF2plWTIfFe_RqI_2bbBhyphenhyphenPsB7KOryhnFZoKYjcIqUsulSiEw4nRLdxJpVw5viA4OvE7BaI1_WY6ghEgCBBkCbciaaiTxOesVxtxxRn/s1600/Screen+Shot+2016-03-08+at+20.58.21.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="156" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzqz2pqTTjXRXfIih8cTsaL-QNXTmP26inbcck4gF2plWTIfFe_RqI_2bbBhyphenhyphenPsB7KOryhnFZoKYjcIqUsulSiEw4nRLdxJpVw5viA4OvE7BaI1_WY6ghEgCBBkCbciaaiTxOesVxtxxRn/s400/Screen+Shot+2016-03-08+at+20.58.21.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<div>
The Kennet Valley Run is a great ride and I always enjoy seeing the white horse.</div>
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I also enjoyed the long sunset, meaning I didn't need to cycle in the dark too long.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m3ZQjxt17_4/VtybY4_oZtI/AAAAAAAAZzM/v0PA1ax4yDIb14c3kE8GnsfDZ98drPTmw/s1600/IMG_4858.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m3ZQjxt17_4/VtybY4_oZtI/AAAAAAAAZzM/v0PA1ax4yDIb14c3kE8GnsfDZ98drPTmw/s320/IMG_4858.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I made it back by 7.30PM, at the Village Hall where there was plenty of tea, soup and cake to be enjoyed. I chatted with a few people and then drove back home. What a great day that was, and I'm ready for more. <br />
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Many thanks to the organiser Mick Simmons and team.<br />
<br />
The rest of the photos are here: <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/113386555289222850470/TheKennetValleyRun200?authuser=0&feat=directlink" target="_blank">MyPhotos</a><br />
<br />
Other thoughts:<br />
<ul>
<li>Plenty of kites</li>
<li>Seeing two people artistically painting the inside of a bus stop, can't remember where</li>
<li>Nice to visit the Tutti Pole again, but didn't hang around too long</li>
<li>Happy, very happy, with my new bike. Will change back mudguard to my old SKS race blade ones. Need a little more clearance.</li>
</ul>
</div>
Swarm_Catcherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06635064315471827418noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5131781421720850788.post-66014535668769546482015-11-05T12:09:00.000-08:002015-11-05T12:12:48.996-08:00The Chinnor Scenic 100I enjoyed it!!<br />
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After 16 months since my last long distance ride I thought all my experience was lost. But it soon came back: how I love the drive to the start, how I always forget one thing - a pen this time, how wonderful following a GPS track is but still couldn't do without the routesheet, how big the kites are, how I treasure the brevet card, how you end up using only 3 or 4 favourite gears, ...<br />
<br />
It turned out the be the hottest November day since records began. We just needed to get out of the fog first.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Tz8cpFnIhsY/Vje6ENsvyTI/AAAAAAAAYzE/5JQCsxalj2k/s1600/IMG_4338.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Tz8cpFnIhsY/Vje6ENsvyTI/AAAAAAAAYzE/5JQCsxalj2k/s320/IMG_4338.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Fog at the lido</span></td></tr>
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The start was at Ruislip Lido - not that you could see the lake. The 100km route took us through High Wycombe, Chinnor, Marsh and back through Great Missenden and Chalfont. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">100km route</span></td></tr>
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There were some wonderful lanes along the way. I particularly enjoyed the approach to Chinnor.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--VObshHVRmo/Vje6T-g6w-I/AAAAAAAAY0I/X-jEkSPhuSg/s1600/IMG_4358.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--VObshHVRmo/Vje6T-g6w-I/AAAAAAAAY0I/X-jEkSPhuSg/s320/IMG_4358.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Climb near Chinnor</span></td></tr>
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Once the fog was gone, it felt like summer. Sunshine, cloudless skye, no wind, lovely lanes - what a great day! Coming back towards 'home' however, the fog appeared again and I was reminded how quickly you can cool down. If I had been on the 200, I would have wished I had brought an extra layer.<br />
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A highlight was the lunchstop at the Chinnor and Princes Risborough Railway. I expected the cafe to be busy, but we had the whole carriage to ourselves. I had a hot chocolate and sausage bap. The kitchen lady said that the cyclists had 'cleaned her out of sandwiches' and that she'd make some more.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Where shall I sit?</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Menu</span></td></tr>
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During lunch it was nice chatting with fellow riders, and observing the to-ing and fro-ing on the platform.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Busy on the platform</span></td></tr>
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I had a wonderful day. But the best thing was still to come. I got home and told Sarah how it went. She then asked the dare-not-hope-for-question: "So when are you doing your next ride?". </div>
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Many thanks to Tim Solesse for organising the ride.</div>
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A few more photos are here: <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/113386555289222850470/TheChinnorScenic200?authuser=0&feat=directlink" target="_blank">Clicky</a></div>
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<br />Swarm_Catcherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06635064315471827418noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5131781421720850788.post-70784122231359421552014-10-16T22:01:00.002-07:002014-10-16T22:01:48.626-07:00FNRttC - Felpham<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xCbpuYPHLaM/VDtdOnVb5dI/AAAAAAAAX5Y/H0IW02pT9nU/s1600/IMG_3535.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xCbpuYPHLaM/VDtdOnVb5dI/AAAAAAAAX5Y/H0IW02pT9nU/s1600/IMG_3535.JPG" height="229" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">See how dark it is in that picture? It's what you should expect isn't it, when you cycle through the night? But I found it very dark. It's as if I was in one of my tunnel phases on the third night of a 1200. This Friday night was long. We were in Pulborough and it was still dark, very dark. I was waiting, urging on dawn.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">I'd been struggling to stay awake. I was dozing off. I was going backwards and sideways, on the hills.</span><br />
<br style="color: #232323; font-family: Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;" />
<span style="font-family: Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">When Simon announced Pulborough train station being 5 minutes away, I didn't have much hesitation. Be bold, I thought, dare to take the train. “I'll take the train, Simon”. He double checked and looked closely to make sure it was me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">Miranda joined me – there is no shame in taking the train with a PBP ancienne was her reasoning. We got to the train station and bought tickets. On the screen we could see that we had just missed a train to Bognor, on the platform we could see that the train was delayed. That got us into euphorics. Within a couple of minutes were were on the train, and the lights were on! Bright light like daylight!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-bE-YylVlZzeXjVzftaV5G0ImxD57iSHc5eyVv41zKTh3ER6cW0KWfkBTQJWs7-IGbnNWYRQ-ErCKLj_bnZ1vORgbnY6rPgBSihI2-u9nqv3H6Nbbb5IxgmvYc8sidCkszRYAE1gtUAi1/s1600/IMG_4165.JPG" style="font-family: Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-bE-YylVlZzeXjVzftaV5G0ImxD57iSHc5eyVv41zKTh3ER6cW0KWfkBTQJWs7-IGbnNWYRQ-ErCKLj_bnZ1vORgbnY6rPgBSihI2-u9nqv3H6Nbbb5IxgmvYc8sidCkszRYAE1gtUAi1/s1600/IMG_4165.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Photo by</span><br /><a href="http://www.the5milecyclist.com/apps/blog/show/42737440-fnrttc-felpham-10-10-14" target="_blank">The 5 Mile Cyclist</a></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">Whilst cycling one of my sideways I had been dreaming of sleeping in a corner of the Lobster Pot Cafe, and nothing was going to wake me up. Now, I was dreaming of dancing on the tables of the Lobster Pot Cafe, and nothing was going to get me down. When we got to the Lobster Pot cafe, they were just setting up. I quite enjoyed the cafe experience from the other side of the fence.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">Somebody asked: 'Are you cyclists'? 'Yes', said Miranda. We looked at each other: 'No, we're trainers!'</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">It was nice to see everybody. I wanted to be on the last ride (I can't make Southend). I enjoyed The Cabin and the Lobster Pot Cafe breakfast, as well as the company on the train back to London.</span><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;" />
<span style="font-family: Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">Thanks to riders, tecs, waymarkers and Simon and Susie for a wonderful era of night cycling.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">Photos: <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/113386555289222850470/FNRttCFelpham?authuser=0&feat=directlink" target="_blank">MyPhotos</a></span></span><br />
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Swarm_Catcherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06635064315471827418noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5131781421720850788.post-73962262885756811212014-07-13T13:53:00.000-07:002014-07-14T21:43:29.898-07:00The HCH 1200'One day, it will be the difference between success and failure', he'd said. Keith Shorten was right. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A gift from Keith Shorten anno 2011- thank you!</span></td></tr>
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My chain snapping on the Herentals-Cosne/Loire-Herentals 1200 wasn't a lowlight, it was a highlight. It is, when you're able to repair it! <br />
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I'm going to find it difficult to find many lowlights. For only about half an hour did I have those 'Never do this again!' thoughts. It's not the rain on the last day, but the temperature dropping, that made me a bit miserable. However, with Jose Maria as a riding buddy, you'll soon laugh your way out of any negativity.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Jose Maria and I, laughing our way through the rain.<br />Photo by Guy Roefs</span></td></tr>
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The topic of conversation causing the most hilarity was football. Very topical, with the world cup going on. Jose Maria hates football. His story on how he was made to play football at school got me laughing out loud. I could visualise it, Jose standing on the pitch. He was told: 'You need to run!', but Jose claims he didn't know where to run to. His footballing career lasted a month.<br />
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For me it was great, being in France when France was playing in the quarter-finals, and being in Belgium when Belgium was playing their quarter-final. Jose observed that the roads in France were busy and dangerous whilst the football was on, and especially after they lost! Whereas in Belgium, cycling whilst the game was on was like cycling on a car-free Sunday.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--eMSggNKLpM/U8D_zVNj3hI/AAAAAAAAXaQ/TOe4suPBxlQ/s1600/IMG_3327.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--eMSggNKLpM/U8D_zVNj3hI/AAAAAAAAXaQ/TOe4suPBxlQ/s1600/IMG_3327.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A French football fan in Vertus</span></td></tr>
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We were in the Champagne area when France was playing Germany. The Marne valley is wonderful to cycle through. It struck me how beautiful and 'organic' the villages were. Thought this could be to do with the fact that the vineyards would be more valuable than housing property, so there is no village expansion. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Champagne country</span></td></tr>
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The unexpected tailwind also made for a good easy stretch of cycling along the Loire.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4Wv8CDP1UNk/U8D8zRSs52I/AAAAAAAAXUA/35dbpWcXBHY/s1600/IMG_3275.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4Wv8CDP1UNk/U8D8zRSs52I/AAAAAAAAXUA/35dbpWcXBHY/s1600/IMG_3275.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Along the Loire</span></td></tr>
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It was hot though, that day, and one person was found in need of a cool down.<br />
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This was a 1200 like no other. Three nights in a row, I slept for at least 3 hours, and that in a hotel! No wonder I was smiling all the time. My sister told me that every time she saw me, I was smiling. Seeing familiar faces is always uplifting on a hard ride. Seeing your sister as part of a well organised support crew could do nothing else but elevate your spirits to an even higher level.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QwWWK73th9I/U8GkQR-cizI/AAAAAAAAXns/tu8Ra-_2gwU/s1600/P1060369.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QwWWK73th9I/U8GkQR-cizI/AAAAAAAAXns/tu8Ra-_2gwU/s1600/P1060369.JPG" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Smiley me - Photo by Guy Roefs</span></td></tr>
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Jan's organisation is amazing. Everything is considered and executed to plan. He pretty much predicted everybody's finish time also. He got mine spot on at 9PM on Saturday. It took some effort though. On the last day, Jose and I had gone through some fast stretches early morning, some slow progress through the Ardennes, some sleepy moments late morning, some hunger pangs around Namur, etc. Then Antonio and Bernard caught up with us, and then a few more riders bunched up towards the end, as tends to happen. We formed a train! A train on a dis-used railway track into Morkhoven. Antonio set the pace and we all followed at high speed, energy coming from the thought of making an imagined deadline. We got to the BBQ at 9PM on the dot.<br />
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The BBQ is another reason why this is a 1200 like no other. After most 1200s, riders finish and disperse, go off home or to other accommodation. On the HCH1200, you can ride your last day and time your finish to coincide with the BBQ party where all the early finishers will be.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1hEeVKkFv5o/U8GkTClzn1I/AAAAAAAAXoQ/jRoVpHcNjsE/s1600/P1060948.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1hEeVKkFv5o/U8GkTClzn1I/AAAAAAAAXoQ/jRoVpHcNjsE/s1600/P1060948.JPG" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Finishers and support crew - Photo by Guy Roefs</span></td></tr>
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Many, many thanks to Jan, the main super-organiser, and everybody else who would have been involved in the background. And many thanks to the Henri and Kris for the wonderful support.<br />
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Rest of my photos are here: <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/113386555289222850470/HCH1200?authuser=0&feat=directlink" target="_blank">MyPhotos</a><br />
A great series of photos by Guy Roefs are here: <a href="http://goo.gl/6kbP7D" target="_blank">Guy's Photos</a><br />
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Other thoughts:<br />
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<ul>
<li>Speaking westvlams to fellow riders was fun</li>
<li>Only, my sister sometimes felt the need to 'translate'</li>
<li>Had a trademark puncture before the start. Thanks to Antonio and Jose for assistance in fixing.</li>
<li>Thanks to our wonderful pre- and post- ride host Paula</li>
<li>Fantastic experience cycling through Paris and seeing well known landmarks</li>
<li>Cycling through Le Cateau-Cambrésis, home town of Henri Matisse</li>
<li>As always, love a quickly served 'petit cafe' in France</li>
<li>Still taking no for an answer and had lunch at the Chinese restaurant, 90 minutes after it closed</li>
<li>PBPers chatting with us</li>
<li>Given a can of drink by a shop owner, fellow randonneur, out of respect for our 1200 efforts</li>
<li>Kris and I drove home to our parents for a wonderful après-ride holiday, and see stage 5 of the Tour de France go through the home town. </li>
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Swarm_Catcherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06635064315471827418noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5131781421720850788.post-78915947740545140502014-06-22T22:22:00.000-07:002014-06-24T11:53:36.045-07:00Making A Beeline to Russia<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The only puncture we had happened before we started. That's a good sign I thought at the time. Just like I thought I was with the right person, when John told me he'd once got lost in the Sahara. Russia is almost twice the size of the Sahara, but we're not going to all of Russia, we're going to the Solovetsky Islands.</span><br />
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzgvcT_82Hz0LekNDd09b62jnMsnaK82TwS62F1inHu1AfTDsmWrMnDSAZJmc7ZNjbBk_5b2sTlVg21lkephYTlsBApGJTW5m7IrfK3PNlbAXZMUaUJIefaXChhLSbm5yf09GYAsmESetU/s1600/9277339446_0397e89552_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzgvcT_82Hz0LekNDd09b62jnMsnaK82TwS62F1inHu1AfTDsmWrMnDSAZJmc7ZNjbBk_5b2sTlVg21lkephYTlsBApGJTW5m7IrfK3PNlbAXZMUaUJIefaXChhLSbm5yf09GYAsmESetU/s1600/9277339446_0397e89552_b.jpg" height="320" width="260" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Second test ride after puncture.</span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="font-size: medium;">
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;">Photo by John Spooner</span></span></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;">We'd
do 2000 miles in 20 days. An average of 100 miles per day, for
long distance cyclists, is do-able. This is not a randonnee, not
a tour, not a holiday, but a pilgrimage. The aim is to
get to the White Sea as beeline as possible.</span><br />
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrxNRGcJYKBvMh6bId1maWMb4TukJRcD1OhpBvKiYD8h4b6h8aU5ittCdT1B7PFTgR7-_dAKPdRGZDQXKteB-J9lwoaZZIguxnEEmeLpDXI8FD68gIXXclLwTjvBvdr_7Om2CyvGXH7PLt/s1600/IMG_0109.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrxNRGcJYKBvMh6bId1maWMb4TukJRcD1OhpBvKiYD8h4b6h8aU5ittCdT1B7PFTgR7-_dAKPdRGZDQXKteB-J9lwoaZZIguxnEEmeLpDXI8FD68gIXXclLwTjvBvdr_7Om2CyvGXH7PLt/s1600/IMG_0109.PNG" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Early 'back of an iPad' route.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">John
wouldn't budge when I had pushed him into changing his mind. 'It
could be horrible, long days, bypassing significant sights, there
might be not much to see when we get there'. 'I said yes' was
his reply. His only condition was that we'd camp. He'd
bring a stove, we'd be fine.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Perfect!
This is a pilgrimage, camping fits the self-reliance bill.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">I
was chuffed when Hummers suggested a YACF send off. I was even
more chuffed when a group of experienced cyclists turned up. I
had had weeks of nervous planning, anxiety building with each day
closer to the start. That evening, I was close to bursting
level. I was listening out for hints of flaws detected in my
plan. John had never questioned anything I had suggested. And
anybody who'd cared to listen always nodded in agreement: 'It will be
a wonderful adventure'. Then … bang! I was in earshot of
David and George's conversation. They came to the conclusion
that 100km (not 100 miles!) is the most you should cycle when doing
it the fully loaded camping way. What with navigation, hunting
for food, finding campsites etc. I think I went white. I
caught John's eye, he was nodding in agreement.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdKaBIVdL8-ubVGqlVnQ4UV3855oIO60VkZj5_RPMBOxAe4_LsmtHuxtvrB3TJ8IBb9uu9oIuIDMYQ_-l14BVflwBAQFRCChpV7I-27vJ3vhbO9FPsoIOcef3-NQDi5wFjNe6jnsk81fPA/s1600/HaveASafeJourney.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdKaBIVdL8-ubVGqlVnQ4UV3855oIO60VkZj5_RPMBOxAe4_LsmtHuxtvrB3TJ8IBb9uu9oIuIDMYQ_-l14BVflwBAQFRCChpV7I-27vJ3vhbO9FPsoIOcef3-NQDi5wFjNe6jnsk81fPA/s1600/HaveASafeJourney.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Hummers wishing us a safe journey.</span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="font-size: medium;">
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;">Photo by Jellied</span></span></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;">The
next day, still white, we set about getting the bikes into my small
car. We took the front wheels off, the back wheels, the
saddles, the pannier racks …. Our noses might have touched
the front windscreen, but the bikes were in. It looked like we
might at least get to the official starting point, my parents' place
in Belgium.</span><br />
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">I
was never going to feel prepared enough. I said goodbye to my
partner and shrugged my shoulders: 'Whatever happens, we'll just have to deal with it, take a
train if we have to.' She also nodded in agreement but she
didn't say it would be a wonderful adventure.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">I
wonder what kind of an adventure St Zozimus had when he walked to
Egypt to get his bees. He wouldn't have had a GPS like us.
All we had to do was follow the line. The next day's route
would automatically show up. Power would be charged from the
dynamo light. And we had each other's devices as backup (plus
micro cards, plus stored online ….) . We had loads of fun
with the gps gadgets. They got us to bike shops, to sunsets, to
banks, to ferries, to supermarkets, to Russia, to hell, to heaven and
back to reality.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f9mAMBS28pY/UeeOtHHJuqI/AAAAAAAAUbw/HiiYWZ4kFtU/s1600/IMG_1438.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f9mAMBS28pY/UeeOtHHJuqI/AAAAAAAAUbw/HiiYWZ4kFtU/s1600/IMG_1438.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">John walking the labyrinth.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ChQcJLgktS8/UeeOtw5WwxI/AAAAAAAAUb4/ISQhIPmSU8I/s1600/IMG_1442.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ChQcJLgktS8/UeeOtw5WwxI/AAAAAAAAUb4/ISQhIPmSU8I/s1600/IMG_1442.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></span></div>
<br />
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;">After
the third day on the road I felt battered and shattered. I
sighed to John: 'If every day is going to be like this ...' I didn't
finish the sentence because I didn't want to consider the outcome.
'You wanted this' he said. I returned by giving him one
last bailout option, which of course, he waved away. That
moment was the true start of the journey. We now understood
what it was going to take.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-size: small;">Fortunately,
the days were long in terms of daylight. Not once did we have
to worry about finishing in the dark. Not even the day we
pitched up at 11PM, it was still light. And the weather was
predominantly June beautiful. I loved cycling all day, every
day, through nature is at its most bloomful.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Um9x1AqjJ_k/UeeMFFJadPI/AAAAAAAAT44/f3B2YwWTSbc/s1600/IMG_0607.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Um9x1AqjJ_k/UeeMFFJadPI/AAAAAAAAT44/f3B2YwWTSbc/s1600/IMG_0607.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZTZCwbJEAR8/UeeMKkPcWQI/AAAAAAAAT6A/RosC4OFgrqA/s1600/IMG_0628.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZTZCwbJEAR8/UeeMKkPcWQI/AAAAAAAAT6A/RosC4OFgrqA/s1600/IMG_0628.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CTgvvpV4pmU/UeeNds3VZoI/AAAAAAAAULQ/ThOL1gqIMbc/s1600/IMG_0996.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CTgvvpV4pmU/UeeNds3VZoI/AAAAAAAAULQ/ThOL1gqIMbc/s1600/IMG_0996.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;">I
wanted this for sure. Each day, our mission was to get to the
next campsite. It was like a 20 day audax marathon, with a
campsite control at the end of the day. We were on a schedule,
a tight schedule. The day we couldn't get to the next campsite
would be the day we'd have to 'deal with it'.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">My
obsession came from learning about St Zozimus in one of my dad's
beekeeping magazines back in 2001. The article described how
St Zozimus and St Sabbatius setup a monastery on the bigger of the
Solovetsky Islands, the Bolshoy Island. Orthodox churches
require candles, so they would need bees for wax production. The
story goes that St Zozimus walked to Egypt to get bees. The
more I read about this monk, the more I could piece together a
credible life story. He went on to teach people the art of
beekeeping. In the Ukraine, a world top honey producer,
beekeepers celebrate St Zozimus on 30th April. He is the patron saint of </span>beekeepers.<span style="font-family: inherit;"> To this day, images of the monk are displayed in apiaries. This is all very
intriguing, I wanted to know more.</span></span></span><br />
<div style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-size: small;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3EC_HDol_yvN7NZY_JntfrpJYe3_eb3M6rsKzeQKcIdezINHQ90atEzZg_YitY-5dOmOS0KYhltgtFO0p09ZAvORe7DPbxMHrJlcE993i6LfB22Tk3RACyr3SfT3xGOpce2H92jTMEhLc/s1600/9275515841_00ef630489_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3EC_HDol_yvN7NZY_JntfrpJYe3_eb3M6rsKzeQKcIdezINHQ90atEzZg_YitY-5dOmOS0KYhltgtFO0p09ZAvORe7DPbxMHrJlcE993i6LfB22Tk3RACyr3SfT3xGOpce2H92jTMEhLc/s1600/9275515841_00ef630489_b.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #262626; font-size: small;">So many questions.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></span></span></div>
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;">'What's
that about then' asked John's brother when we were tweeting with the
#stzozi hashtag. It was all about St Zozimus. John did
more tweeting than I did. I tended to be on supermarket sweep
duty.</span><br />
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yl6OivflUic/UeeLxpy7j8I/AAAAAAAAT0o/ZTEvp3wKc3g/s1600/IMG_0526.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yl6OivflUic/UeeLxpy7j8I/AAAAAAAAT0o/ZTEvp3wKc3g/s1600/IMG_0526.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">John tweeting on our progress</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;">We'd
buy enough for lunch and dinner. A couple of times, that wasn't
enough. The first time we ran out of food resulted in John
navigating a significant detour to reach a supermarket in the middle
of nowhere. There was an associated cafe/library which turned
out to be a wifi haven. This lifted our spirits. The
second time we ran out of food resulted in us knocking on the door of
a beekeeper.</span><br />
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gqlut3LaLBg/UeeMe5_NODI/AAAAAAAAT-Y/fd0d9zzxsrM/s1600/IMG_0710.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gqlut3LaLBg/UeeMe5_NODI/AAAAAAAAT-Y/fd0d9zzxsrM/s1600/IMG_0710.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Honey for sale!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-t84eGSwBE1M/UeeMffk5dxI/AAAAAAAAT-g/TBPOiCjh-Xk/s1600/IMG_0711.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-t84eGSwBE1M/UeeMffk5dxI/AAAAAAAAT-g/TBPOiCjh-Xk/s1600/IMG_0711.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">From these hives</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AOzWVEjsTiY/UeeMgB1T9ZI/AAAAAAAAT-s/iHYSVOgs-Ww/s1600/IMG_0712.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AOzWVEjsTiY/UeeMgB1T9ZI/AAAAAAAAT-s/iHYSVOgs-Ww/s1600/IMG_0712.jpg" height="221" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">John and the beekeeper</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #262626;">This
encounter provided for another moral boost when we needed it. At
least we could have a chat. But the beekeeper didn't need to tell
us that we were in a very remote area! I could finish his other
sentences also. 'He'd run out ... of last year's honey', 'This year,
the season ... is a month behind', 'He'd be harvesting ... in
August'. I had secretly hoped for an offer of bread with honey.
Instead, he had chickens and was selling eggs. Saved!
Except that John doesn't like eggs. We had two
cup-a-soups left, so John had those whilst I had boiled eggs.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #262626;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Jt64IHNCjkg/UeeMiqw23AI/AAAAAAAAT_I/K6jm_MKgWC4/s1600/IMG_0721.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Jt64IHNCjkg/UeeMiqw23AI/AAAAAAAAT_I/K6jm_MKgWC4/s1600/IMG_0721.jpg" height="242" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">"I'll take a stove, we'll be fine."</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;">We
were eating more and more. At some point, I began to eat more
than John was. George was right again in saying that we'd lose
weight. Along the way, it made me think of a new diet: 'Eat
what you carry'. You can only carry so much, which will limit
your intake. And carrying your food in itself would make you
lose weight.</span><br />
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HxWCWumhm-o/UeeNRR0NWAI/AAAAAAAAUIw/cV5VUohzvvg/s1600/IMG_0932.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HxWCWumhm-o/UeeNRR0NWAI/AAAAAAAAUIw/cV5VUohzvvg/s1600/IMG_0932.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Another picnic by the road</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;">Our
campsite routine evolved. At first, we'd pitch the tents, then
shower, then eat. Towards the end, we'd eat, pitch the tents
and not shower. What didn't evolve was the morning coffee ritual, the day couldn't start without our wonderful cafetière mug coffee. </span>John would put the kettle on, I would make the coffee.<br />
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMGEQ5gqAvv41Aj-k4gFO2E3Jb1U_ic6eIKYBZoLbJH4ioe795X265xa3tEjmYKKL2DaCfGHcSJWG8psFWQxAmEUAc8Yssk3fEPM7NCV4rpop2_p5NLLcVqw7aKdK0uHJmfU55KWKjvTgz/s1600/9274788871_1e56ebbc2b_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMGEQ5gqAvv41Aj-k4gFO2E3Jb1U_ic6eIKYBZoLbJH4ioe795X265xa3tEjmYKKL2DaCfGHcSJWG8psFWQxAmEUAc8Yssk3fEPM7NCV4rpop2_p5NLLcVqw7aKdK0uHJmfU55KWKjvTgz/s1600/9274788871_1e56ebbc2b_b.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">We camped in some idyllic places</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Photo by John Spooner</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1pVeHQdSKCM/UeeM8MEf3YI/AAAAAAAAUEk/k3kbOkeNx0c/s1600/IMG_0848.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1pVeHQdSKCM/UeeM8MEf3YI/AAAAAAAAUEk/k3kbOkeNx0c/s1600/IMG_0848.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">With breathtaking views</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;">The
advantage of camping was that there would be at least two sheets of
tent material protecting John from my vocal and physical outbursts.
I had warned John about my night terrors, he didn't believe me,
few people do. He waved it away again, and said 'I've got good
ear plugs anyway'.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Between
Turku and Helsinki, we knew we were going to have to camp in the
wild. I wasn't keen, but it had to been done. John would
have pitched up much earlier in the evening than I. I'm
thankful for his consideration and patience . He kept on offering:
how about here, or here, let's have a look there, until I was happy
enough. I was happy when we found this gravel track. A
fallen tree was blocking the entrance to all but cyclists looking for
a wild camping spot. Perfect, mozzies aside.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-T6Hc2e9VW5k/UeeNNsNR1II/AAAAAAAAUIA/trTDl_wYeUI/s1600/IMG_0919.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-T6Hc2e9VW5k/UeeNNsNR1II/AAAAAAAAUIA/trTDl_wYeUI/s1600/IMG_0919.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Spot the wild camper</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgakyN4FLY9yb6ftcy9HCcv2dwdweCc_1liuLHCThIQTBBhNWpj_iExjcjhS7gGfDdd0hnnXbh3YVGjXLVaCSE6WiNRrzm9bUigkyQPnBu2M-5HVizQ4setUSGolTmGL_R6a5wVRQfDRwtf/s1600/9274905455_80519a2f51_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgakyN4FLY9yb6ftcy9HCcv2dwdweCc_1liuLHCThIQTBBhNWpj_iExjcjhS7gGfDdd0hnnXbh3YVGjXLVaCSE6WiNRrzm9bUigkyQPnBu2M-5HVizQ4setUSGolTmGL_R6a5wVRQfDRwtf/s1600/9274905455_80519a2f51_b.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">And spot the hi-viz vest!<br />Couldn't get the long sleeve on quickly enough.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Photo by John Spooner</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;">Because
of the mozzies, we didn't hang about too long, and the sooner I got
to sleep the sooner I'd forget we were wild camping. I was
tired, I drifted off. Then the sound of footsteps on gravel
appeared. Was I dreaming? They became louder and louder. I
held my breath. The thought of preferring the sound of mozzies
to gravel came to mind. That thought was immediately replaced
with panic when a dog started barking right by my ear. 'John!'
I shouted out. But the dog got a telling off and the footsteps
disappeared again. Just a dog walker on an evening stroll
probably. In the morning, John asked if I had had one of those
night terrors.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">The
second time we camped in the open was more desperate. Things
were beginning to turn against us a and we had started to draw on our
reserves. We had the huge distance of 171km to cover, it was
the last day before entering Russia. In the evening, it had
started to rain.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRVf0YRG5Yy2J_i1ZSyXQZyRDrzvpI-5Mf03VqdaUtae98OZd-u_z6KFD6rUuiKPCf2vh8FxMU8R2g6pAAv7aNh8oPzoNfNIVdZ0ghW2_8n1g9sSuHa6dIV5KX5AK2AXj6GRvNR9PHTuYQ/s1600/9277765310_7691295909_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRVf0YRG5Yy2J_i1ZSyXQZyRDrzvpI-5Mf03VqdaUtae98OZd-u_z6KFD6rUuiKPCf2vh8FxMU8R2g6pAAv7aNh8oPzoNfNIVdZ0ghW2_8n1g9sSuHa6dIV5KX5AK2AXj6GRvNR9PHTuYQ/s1600/9277765310_7691295909_b.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;">It looked spectacular ...</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo by John Spooner</span></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">The
nearest accommodation was a detour, and it was as if we didn't have
the mental energy to make a detour. So we carried straight on
and were left with needing to wild camp. I wasn't comfortable
at all and we went further and further to find a suitable spot. We
just had to give in, in the end, we needed to sleep. It was
close to 11 o'clock. For the first time we were pitching up in
the rain. And it rained and rained. There was thunder and
lightening all night. I could hear tree branches crackling off
around us. Why are we camping amongst trees I thought. I
was willing myself to sleep again. Several times I was woken by
flashing light. I found the whole night so terrifying that even
my night terrors didn't make an appearance. In the morning we
packed up in the rain and mosquito clouds. The fact that we
were crossing the border that day was the only thing that kept our
moral up.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCelajYx2u91YuYpcEJeD2eSp5WhG0lWcPpU-Kn6Hu8UdElDmLN0nsw8q48gWvlhAtsGGXqa7aE696xdb7NBg6GgaRw9m-D0dlFHxOLVwRxc9y-MGNYvKw9Z2O3LbZdFOLhBj91WLSEwo-/s1600/photo+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCelajYx2u91YuYpcEJeD2eSp5WhG0lWcPpU-Kn6Hu8UdElDmLN0nsw8q48gWvlhAtsGGXqa7aE696xdb7NBg6GgaRw9m-D0dlFHxOLVwRxc9y-MGNYvKw9Z2O3LbZdFOLhBj91WLSEwo-/s1600/photo+2.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">It's the bridge that invited us in.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Still light at 11PM.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<div style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;">What
a milestone though, reaching the Russian border. Neither of us have pictures of the crossing, the priority was getting through, and that without being mistaken for spies. The time I was 'in' and John wasn't, was too much time for me to think 'What am I doing ... what if ....'. It seemed that John's passport needed more officials to look at it than mine did. We were both relieved to be re-united. Amazing what a few yards can mean!</span></div>
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It was through
an incidental iMap upgrade, that I had discovered that the distance
to the Solovetsky Islands was only twice LEL and a bit
more. I had been disappointed</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">. All of a sudden there was
a boundary. A boundary means you can work things out and make
it happen.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">I
had quite liked this dreaming of one day reaching an unreachable
place. It reminded me of Tarkovsky's film 'Stalker'. The
Stalker, very reluctantly, guides people to 'The Room'. 'The
Room' has the potential to fulfil a person's innermost desires.
The Stalker knows it's a difficult destination, and
fears for people's disappointment. 'The Zone', which is the
journey towards the Room, is full of invisible dangers.</span></span><br />
<br />
<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="background-color: #7e6656; margin: 5px; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td class="main12" style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #fffffd; font-family: inherit;"><b>Everything that happens depends on us, says Stalker. The </b></span><span style="color: #fffffd;"><b>relationship</b></span><span style="color: #fffffd;"><b><span style="font-family: inherit;"> between pilgrims - even the most sceptical or outright cynical, even those who don't consider </span>themselves<span style="font-family: inherit;"> pilgrims - and the Zone is absolutely reciprocal. To be in the Zone is to be part of the Zone.</span></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #fffffd; font-family: inherit; font-size: xx-small; font-weight: bold;">(Quote from 'Zona' - Geoff Dyer)</span></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The
S</span><span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;">olovetsky islands had become the Room for me. The path to it
couldn't be air travel and a matter of 48 hours, that would make me a
tourist. It had to be a journey.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The
destination was a monastery on an island 100 miles below of the
Arctic Circle, where the White Sea is covered with ice for eight
months of the year. I feared for my disappointment. Maybe the
ferries wouldn't run due to bad weather. I feared even more
for not being able to get back if we did get on the island! I
didn't want to follow in the footsteps of St Zozimus that much! And
although I ordered the train tickets from Kem back to St Peterburg
many months in advance, you don't receive confirmation till 40
days before departure - that's just 10 day before we left England .
Maybe the destination shouldn't be the monastery, but getting
back home! </span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></span>
<br />
<div style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-68KakWrmz20/UeeNzSEmUJI/AAAAAAAAUPg/C8gj8Pvb9jI/s1600/IMG_1165.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-68KakWrmz20/UeeNzSEmUJI/AAAAAAAAUPg/C8gj8Pvb9jI/s1600/IMG_1165.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #262626; font-size: small;">The road still looking good!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;">It
was the black and white frog in a puddle, struggling to right itself
after being run over by a logging truck that symbolised the dangers
to me. The Solovetski Patericons might describe this scene as
God protecting us, giving us the signal to turn back.</span></div>
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-size: small;">'What
are you waiting for', said John. I explained that it was 'a bit
of a moment' for me. Turning your bike into the direction you
came from doesn't come naturally, and especially not when you're on a
mission. I had to re-adjust my mind 'to deal with it'. This
was the moment. It was still raining and the roads had changed
from tarmac, to good track, to bad track, to 'even a mountain bike
wouldn't make far' track, to a mud bath. Forest, forest,
forest. No view, just trees. We were walking more and
more. It seems that only logging trucks go through here. Every
30 minutes or so, we'd be passed by huge logging trucks, usually
three at the time, also on a mission. They were losing traction
in the mud and I could see the dangers for sure. </span></span>
</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Then
a normal-ish van appeared. We stopped the driver and asked
about the next 'village' that was marked on our gps. We had
started to look for a break, for food, for options. He only had
one angry word: 'нет' - meaning 'no'. Right, that's enough,
'it's not going to happen is it John?', I said. I had that
white feeling again, the trundle back happened in whiteness.
'I wanted this' I kept telling myself, 'now get yourself out of here
again'. I was overwhelmed with homesickness. I felt
responsible for John - why wasn't he angry with me? It was
grim.</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-size: small;">We
checked back into the hotel. </span></span></span><span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;">The room balcony was perfect for
drying the tents, and we used the garden hose to clean off our bikes.
But not before we initiated plan B.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfX8vKqlwkQvAIEiG50tTmcnnYGRatuahVoLZ53GnZR_qkyTASpjpsz9Qo6z9UT-YeiK6RdWCvqsIzu8OKEXsbokVFVV4rPug7_7TmsQPYDnQxKmbNaQKTJ8gN1TMFynkViCuN97hS6PXH/s1600/9277757706_7670e5128a_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfX8vKqlwkQvAIEiG50tTmcnnYGRatuahVoLZ53GnZR_qkyTASpjpsz9Qo6z9UT-YeiK6RdWCvqsIzu8OKEXsbokVFVV4rPug7_7TmsQPYDnQxKmbNaQKTJ8gN1TMFynkViCuN97hS6PXH/s1600/9277757706_7670e5128a_b.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-size: small;">Gardarika Hotel by lake Yanisyarvi</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo by John Spooner</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jk3FpcbQXlk/UeeN054PxfI/AAAAAAAAUP4/ne73ue5PSVg/s1600/IMG_1173.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jk3FpcbQXlk/UeeN054PxfI/AAAAAAAAUP4/ne73ue5PSVg/s1600/IMG_1173.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p802BC1xjkg/UeeN1f4rdeI/AAAAAAAAUQA/UaefCK5zU4k/s1600/IMG_1174.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p802BC1xjkg/UeeN1f4rdeI/AAAAAAAAUQA/UaefCK5zU4k/s1600/IMG_1174.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SHQcGqK54ZY/UeeN2zjsc4I/AAAAAAAAUQY/Q9U1txx9QpI/s1600/IMG_1183.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SHQcGqK54ZY/UeeN2zjsc4I/AAAAAAAAUQY/Q9U1txx9QpI/s1600/IMG_1183.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">At
reception, I bonded with the cleaner. She had one look at me
and showed the staff loos encouraging me to use them, maybe I had
turned green? She was a great, babushka type person, taking me under
her wings and telling the receptionist what to do. A
few</span></span></span></span><span style="color: #191919;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> </span></span></span></span><span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">spasibas,
a drawing and multiple Google translates later, we had a plan. In
the mean time, John bonded with the smallest dog on earth.</span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qBf351by8gQ/UeeNz95xw2I/AAAAAAAAUPs/CeQuoFMrRyI/s1600/IMG_1167.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qBf351by8gQ/UeeNz95xw2I/AAAAAAAAUPs/CeQuoFMrRyI/s1600/IMG_1167.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #262626; font-size: small;">Welcome distraction</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">I
also made myself call the multilingual VOL1200 volunteer, Vladimir,
so as to check we were not going to get ourselves further into
trouble with our plan B.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Plan
B was to cycle to Sortavala, and then complete our journey by train
via St Petersburg. A new adventure was starting and I had got
over 'it'. We ate well and I could feel myself recovering.
The pancakes at the hotel restaurant were fantastic. I think
John had a beer that evening. The next morning, instead of
getting up from wild camping (probably), we were going to be on a train
for 6 hours (hopefully) to St Petersburg.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi25fLlF0Mb0nSXUiMX6QTxiMQOtivWI0-jyKz5NfjcfElqMMy4-r4KUehKwIrcYpZLss7HEQdrEc4dM3uPoaAnQ6U1-fUqWfvDtelUHfpk-ZeZ4Gc6BEmxyitxxZVP8QzT4q6nMJdu2o1A/s1600/9274966503_a5b8837f0f_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi25fLlF0Mb0nSXUiMX6QTxiMQOtivWI0-jyKz5NfjcfElqMMy4-r4KUehKwIrcYpZLss7HEQdrEc4dM3uPoaAnQ6U1-fUqWfvDtelUHfpk-ZeZ4Gc6BEmxyitxxZVP8QzT4q6nMJdu2o1A/s1600/9274966503_a5b8837f0f_b.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #262626; font-size: small;">Pancakes were good at Hotel Gardarika.</span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="font-size: medium;">
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;">Photo by John Spooner</span></span></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;">I
still had feelings of homesickness, but the feelings of needing to
get to the Solovetsky islands were stronger. What would it
take? Making phone calls, finding wifi and booking rooms,
finding the train station, hoping for availability, buying tickets
... it was all logistics and time. Although we had run out of
time to cycle there, we had plenty of time to get there by train. We
were lucky to have connections with availability all the way. The
trains don't run every day and sometimes they are fully booked. But
everything fell into place. Whatever we needed just worked out,
eventually.</span><br />
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib7CKyl9m2pM6ihs0EDgwQNbq3B9K15u0cGUxpwt8JlrH2VKv7rFmWZT1ZZ8IiPcx2iC46z0qQPpQYh7YpO9ks9QZC8QOGdzV2ac4Ophk13gDfK8qBN67t-9l4juH1pBudOBkdviofVaem/s1600/9277792322_eb1e65a813_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib7CKyl9m2pM6ihs0EDgwQNbq3B9K15u0cGUxpwt8JlrH2VKv7rFmWZT1ZZ8IiPcx2iC46z0qQPpQYh7YpO9ks9QZC8QOGdzV2ac4Ophk13gDfK8qBN67t-9l4juH1pBudOBkdviofVaem/s1600/9277792322_eb1e65a813_b.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">There was a bike shop just a mile away and they had a box!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">On
this journey, it seems that I perfected the art of not taking no for
an answer. For example, on arriving in St Petersburg, the
receptionist said that the hotel was fully booked. My heart
sank. I'm sure we would have found another hotel. But the
effort of just getting there with our awkward cycle panniers and my
bike, having waited for a taxi for hours, then sitting in traffic for
hours, the taxi driver not finding our hotel, had left us more
exhausted than any other full day's cycling.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhlGyvjlYUrftnxAM6wCNC0Q7HT3-WjJr4TQRcUR2HghivPTdAn551A_ijtY3i4Juf5-A6QKHUZxjf5F0t3Gx1dQcYFwcNIqtqErTzomJVjgISzTzzyc6W4S4p-FNWvfc3Y5VONgGLR6fk/s1600/photo+1.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhlGyvjlYUrftnxAM6wCNC0Q7HT3-WjJr4TQRcUR2HghivPTdAn551A_ijtY3i4Juf5-A6QKHUZxjf5F0t3Gx1dQcYFwcNIqtqErTzomJVjgISzTzzyc6W4S4p-FNWvfc3Y5VONgGLR6fk/s1600/photo+1.PNG" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #262626; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Can't be so hard to find the green dot? </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #262626; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Ulitsa Gastello, St Petersburg.</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">We
stood there, and I talked, I mentioned to the receptionists how I had
stayed with them last year for the Vologda Onega Ladoga 1200km bike ride, whilst thinking what and how to do the
next thing. Then she made a phone call, and handed over the
phone. The person at the other end, Elena, informed me that
there had just been a cancellation and we could stay after all.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Getting
our luggage and my bike (John left his in Sortavala) in the few
taxies we took, always took a bit of negotiating. In the end, we
would show them how it's done - it was out of the drivers' hands
really. They stood and watched.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-size: small;">But I have never been as determined as when we got to the entrance of the Solovetsky monastery shop. The door was open, but there was a gallery rope
barrier across. 'It's clearly there because they don't want
people to go in' said John. In my mind, it was clearly there to
hop over. I had to come away with candles, an icon, a print,
music, something ... It was our last day, our last chance. I
hopped over, I could see somebody not stopping me. I could
also see the whole range of beautiful pure beeswax candles. I
pointed at them, and the women looked as helpless as the taxi
drivers. The coast was clear, I called in John. I scanned
all the paraphernalia for anything depicting St Zozimus and bees ....
nothing. I explained my interest in St Zozimus as a beekeeper.
'Peacekeeper', she said. I chuckled and corrected her,
but she nodded and said 'peacekeeper' again. Suits me, quite
like that in fact. And off she went with a determined step towards a
long row of trestle tables full of boxes with icon prints. She
knew exactly where it was and pulled out the print showing St Zozimus
and St Sabbatius with traditional beehives between them. I was
delighted! So happy I was, I had arrived.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<div style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKczHwS_ajqySu3V9b1tXiIARN_fSWv0ZdZGv-IPRq0O9BUCbpFaJrpoBVOe9tllJJRSCXo0PJgwfZ84ED5CB7rzSbr5laztkfrtK-pJ34tn4s257Bd8O7pUGcHOer6g7YbyPnxxzB3ARj/s1600/9275171213_74d5d82fb8_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKczHwS_ajqySu3V9b1tXiIARN_fSWv0ZdZGv-IPRq0O9BUCbpFaJrpoBVOe9tllJJRSCXo0PJgwfZ84ED5CB7rzSbr5laztkfrtK-pJ34tn4s257Bd8O7pUGcHOer6g7YbyPnxxzB3ARj/s1600/9275171213_74d5d82fb8_b.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Me, blending in</span><br />
Photo by John Spooner</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;">Our
stay on the island was absolutely magical. Funny thing was that
as soon as we set foot on the island, our roles reversed. John
did all the organising and planning of the day. It's as if my
mission was over, the mission to get there. Once I was there, I
couldn't make anymore decisions.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y9jSv_6Jb_c/UeeOG-RefSI/AAAAAAAAUT4/r7Wn85q_7WU/s1600/IMG_1267.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y9jSv_6Jb_c/UeeOG-RefSI/AAAAAAAAUT4/r7Wn85q_7WU/s1600/IMG_1267.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">John doing the buying</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IwelNEKZgEA/UeeOGZiRklI/AAAAAAAAUTw/vO5bIu6YP20/s1600/IMG_1266.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IwelNEKZgEA/UeeOGZiRklI/AAAAAAAAUTw/vO5bIu6YP20/s1600/IMG_1266.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Fish pies</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-l5M5XcI7R94/UeePDuFEHKI/AAAAAAAAUgQ/Mk_UfaDC5Nk/s1600/IMG_1547.jpg" height="240" style="color: #0000ee; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">John doing the rowing</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L2sIo6Cm9Kc/UeeOfAhHxzI/AAAAAAAAUY4/LevVdn1bz-M/s1600/IMG_1377.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L2sIo6Cm9Kc/UeeOfAhHxzI/AAAAAAAAUY4/LevVdn1bz-M/s1600/IMG_1377.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">John doing the talking</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
</div>
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;">The above chat was a </span><span style="color: #262626;">chat</span><span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> with Dr Alexander Martynov, chief </span>archaeologist<span style="font-family: inherit;"> of the islands, who happened to be measuring up his next dig: a potential mesolithic settlement site he discovered 10 years </span>ago. </span><br />
<div style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-weight: normal; text-align: center; text-decoration: none;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-21HI43Z6wQM/UeeOdIc1w_I/AAAAAAAAUYo/D8oQYOt6ibg/s1600/IMG_1374.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-21HI43Z6wQM/UeeOdIc1w_I/AAAAAAAAUYo/D8oQYOt6ibg/s1600/IMG_1374.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iMtV6IKN6Kw/UeeOdx4QSEI/AAAAAAAAUYw/IUXu5JL0ZKg/s1600/IMG_1376.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iMtV6IKN6Kw/UeeOdx4QSEI/AAAAAAAAUYw/IUXu5JL0ZKg/s1600/IMG_1376.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">What are we looking at here?</span> </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h3wg1muevhw/UeeOfu1RpRI/AAAAAAAAUZA/vT3bREKEiVU/s1600/IMG_1380.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h3wg1muevhw/UeeOfu1RpRI/AAAAAAAAUZA/vT3bREKEiVU/s1600/IMG_1380.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Quartz</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-weight: normal; text-align: center; text-decoration: none;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfdB179aJbFr06nwPBu8btwgMH-hdwFZ197tpk5A8kD5MJ77sBYf5aejo8l4W3dkS3zmkc_3OWMr2tHmlEIZ3RatbiInqZbBDPaBhXgbCWq3E2UMEaiI1QSzoO1sr5guYDNW-ZVD77cvQR/s1600/P6280678.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfdB179aJbFr06nwPBu8btwgMH-hdwFZ197tpk5A8kD5MJ77sBYf5aejo8l4W3dkS3zmkc_3OWMr2tHmlEIZ3RatbiInqZbBDPaBhXgbCWq3E2UMEaiI1QSzoO1sr5guYDNW-ZVD77cvQR/s1600/P6280678.jpeg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The dig, a few months later</span><br />
Photo by Dr A. Martynov</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
Alexander had invited us up. 'Have a look,', he said, 'go ahead, while I get my measuring stick'. John and I went up but didn't know what to look for. All I could think was that this was just about the most desirable wild camping spot you could ever want. </div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
After leaving the site, we carried on<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;"> (on hire bikes!) to the top of the island, then walking to the end of the pier. We were not going to get any more north than this. We took our time. It was otherworldly. I kept staring at the sea, you never know... And there they were: beluga dolphins. Just
wonderful. There certainly was a special atmosphere, it was
quiet, only seas to look at, quiet blue sky, quiet inside,
quiet in mind. Meditative and maddening at the same time.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nGB33F4z7dg/UeeOksr4xyI/AAAAAAAAUaI/kP0SfSY_lrA/s1600/IMG_1399.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nGB33F4z7dg/UeeOksr4xyI/AAAAAAAAUaI/kP0SfSY_lrA/s1600/IMG_1399.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">White Sea view from Rebolda</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #262626;">Some of the other highlights during our stay on Solovetsky were the botanical gardens, the bumble bees, the labyrinths, the museum, the odd ship cafe, the bells, the procession, the bridges, the canals, the goats, .... so much in such a small area. </span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #262626;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="color: #262626;">The Priut hotel we stayed at was perfect for our needs. Unlike the Solovki hotel where we tried, for a change of scenery, to go in for an afternoon coffee. We were turned away, they 'didn't have capacity'. The Solovki hotel is a gated new build on the outskirts of the village. It caters for the tourist flown in from Archangel. The tourist I didn't want to be. </span><br />
<span style="color: #262626;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #262626;">We carried on walking instead. Walking all around the village until we found Pavel Florensky Street. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KBu9pzBWpc4/UeeO4Ji4TVI/AAAAAAAAUeI/R-O92-2p9W4/s1600/IMG_1486.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KBu9pzBWpc4/UeeO4Ji4TVI/AAAAAAAAUeI/R-O92-2p9W4/s1600/IMG_1486.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Pavel Florensky</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: #262626;">Pavel Florensky i</span>s one of the 'notable Solovki prisoners' listed on the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pavel_Florensky" target="_blank">wiki</a> page: 'he was a Russian Orthodox theologian, priest, philosopher, mathematician, physicist, electrical engineer, inventor and neomartyr'. He could probably put his mind to anything. Whilst on the islands, he conducted research into producing iodine and agar out of seaweed. Seaweed is now still a commodity for locals. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-By44qH0WlQE/UeeOl-5etwI/AAAAAAAAUac/L-w0EvTxgPU/s1600/IMG_1401.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-By44qH0WlQE/UeeOl-5etwI/AAAAAAAAUac/L-w0EvTxgPU/s1600/IMG_1401.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Frames for drying seaweed</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; widows: auto;">
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #262626;">In the 16th century, under the leadership of Filip Kolychev, Solovetsky grew into a well run and successful community. I</span><span style="color: #262626;">t was salt, that was the island's biggest source of revenue. Salt was in abundance whilst it was scarce in other parts of Russia. I only recently found out that the name "Solovki" was derived from the Russian word for salt. </span></span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center;">
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><i>"Solovky reminds you of a precious stone: however long you look at it, it keeps on changing." </i></span></span></div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center;">
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<div>
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;">- Mariusz Wilk - 'The Journals of a White Sea Wolf'.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="text-align: start;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;">In Soviet times, Solovki was turned into prison and labor camp, which served as a prototype for the GULAG system. All religious references were removed, all monks gone.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #262626;">The monastery is depicted on the 500 roubles note, which highlights just how significant the site is to Russia. </span><span style="color: #262626;">There are two versions of that banknote in circulation. One showing the monastery without onion domes, and one with onion domes once restored post-gulag time. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;">Restoration is taking place continuously, as we could see from all the scaffolding. This year, a</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">n enormous grant (</span><a href="http://barentsobserver.com/en/culture/2014/05/800-million-solovki-restoration-13-05" style="font-family: inherit;" target="_blank">€17 million</a><span style="font-family: inherit;">) has been awarded for the restoration of 12 different sites of the monastery. I have visions of a 'Lost Gardens of Heligan' type restoration, including salt works and beekeeping sites. Maybe one day I'll have to go back and see.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #262626; font-family: inherit;">It's quite comical to think that when John asked if I'd ever go
back, I said 'Yes, but in the winter'!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I'll
be forever thankful to John Spooner. No other person could have, would have joined me. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">"...
the main thing was to do anything I could to help Els reach her
goal..." - John Spooner</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Thank
you John, you did!</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M2a4q0UO3PE/UeePJX1oocI/AAAAAAAAUhk/0fmwGXcFGFo/s1600/IMG_1585.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M2a4q0UO3PE/UeePJX1oocI/AAAAAAAAUhk/0fmwGXcFGFo/s1600/IMG_1585.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Salvatore</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="main12" style="color: #fffffd; font-weight: bold; text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Solovki Islands is a fantastic place. You can't leave it but carrying a heavy load of various sensations - historical, ecological, artistic, esoteric, etc. This site is ever generating miracles. Not the mere monastery, but the nature itself and numerous archaeological monuments. Here the travelers may obtain what they seek for in the rest of the world.<span style="font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">(Quote from museum.ru/solovki)</span></span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z4VxfbPkrdc/UeeOY-ff4CI/AAAAAAAAUX0/PNb9amRvMV8/s1600/IMG_1349.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z4VxfbPkrdc/UeeOY-ff4CI/AAAAAAAAUX0/PNb9amRvMV8/s1600/IMG_1349.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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The rest of my photos are here: <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/113386555289222850470/Solo?authuser=0&authkey=Gv1sRgCPHb6IrqzvqCzQE&feat=directlink" target="_blank">'Solo'</a><br />
John's photos: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/johnspooner/sets/72157634616826871/page1/" target="_blank">'Beeline to Russia'</a><br />
John's write up of 'his version': <a href="https://yacf.co.uk/forum/index.php?topic=76135.msg1572363#msg1572363" target="_blank">Part 4 (Solovki)</a> (Parts 1-4 and 5 in same thread)<br />
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Other thoughts in random order:</div>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: left;">Hearing a cuckoo pretty much every day.</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">Other eye-catching wildlife: cranes, sea eagles, ibis, moose (just one crossing the road), migrating birds.</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">Meeting Gus from YACF, in Copenhagen.</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">Meeting John's friend Simon and family in Neumunster.</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">Lovely swim in a lake between Nyköpping and Stockholm.</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">Both John and I had one spoke breaking.</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">Both times we found a bike shop the next day. Lucky to find the mechanic at 'home':</li>
</ul>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c0WSHXEkxdw/UeeNt_yHWkI/AAAAAAAAUOY/YyjHEu7rWTU/s1600/IMG_1097.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c0WSHXEkxdw/UeeNt_yHWkI/AAAAAAAAUOY/YyjHEu7rWTU/s1600/IMG_1097.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
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<li style="text-align: left;">Meeting Eric who was cycling to Spain. Really?</li>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n0I2UnCCayw/UeeMWJCJ2fI/AAAAAAAAT8g/4muKpw4qXs8/s1600/IMG_0670.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n0I2UnCCayw/UeeMWJCJ2fI/AAAAAAAAT8g/4muKpw4qXs8/s1600/IMG_0670.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a></div>
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<ul>
<li style="text-align: left;">You see bizarre things like a guy walking backwards, Stockholm, 5AM.</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">My face turning into a puffball. Was like this every day till Finland.</li>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wwFR9C83p2M/UeF9O741jKI/AAAAAAAAU8s/VFzoxCaRPJE/s1600/IMG_0614.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wwFR9C83p2M/UeF9O741jKI/AAAAAAAAU8s/VFzoxCaRPJE/s1600/IMG_0614.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
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<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Train ticket to <span style="color: #252525; line-height: 22px;">Кемь, gateway to Solovetsky Islands</span></span></li>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoI5LNp2AQVAiCGNJyXIzJf200XF_Uex7qF_-CK1q5p_gpIGk2w0PnO7aJKrWaDIuV_kVW3sn48aep7BzQvXarvtOa5RJq-qeQ0p0gaHcJfKZ5XITumUVJY9nkGeUehzHWR1RkHiuLlOdc/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoI5LNp2AQVAiCGNJyXIzJf200XF_Uex7qF_-CK1q5p_gpIGk2w0PnO7aJKrWaDIuV_kVW3sn48aep7BzQvXarvtOa5RJq-qeQ0p0gaHcJfKZ5XITumUVJY9nkGeUehzHWR1RkHiuLlOdc/s1600/photo.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Train ticket to <span style="color: #252525; line-height: 22px; text-align: start;">Кемь</span></span></td></tr>
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<ul>
<li style="text-align: left;">Solovetsky has been a <a href="http://whc.unesco.org/en/list/632" target="_blank">UNESCO</a> World Heritage site since 1992.</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">Prince Charles visited in 2003.</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">Can bees live on 4 months in a year? A former national bee inspector shared with me his thoughts: "Because of the long days, 4 months will translate into 8 months, equivalent of what they get here". </li>
<li style="text-align: left;">John and I being interviewed for Russian TV.</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">Solovetsky and the history of Solovetsky is so beautifully encapsulated in these two references that there was no need for me to reproduce it:</li>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: left;">Stephen Forster's article: <a href="http://www.anatol.org/projects/travel/russia/solovki-archipelago.html" target="_blank">'The Gulag's Archipelago'</a></li>
<li style="text-align: left;">Denis Loctier's video <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pRZqmfV_TUs#t=13" target="_blank">Russia's Solovki reclaim their sacred past</a> (only 457 views, incredible!). Includes interview with Dr Alexander Martynov.</li>
</ul>
<li style="text-align: left;">Pentti Sammallahti's best shot: <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2014/jan/08/pentti-sammallahti-best-photograph-russia-winter#" target="_blank">The Guardian, My Best Shot</a>.</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">Discovering Valaam monastic music, including Solovki Chants.</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">Whilst I flew back from St Petersburg, John cycled back to the UK from Sortavala!</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">The icon print I bought was similar if not the same to this one:</li>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://abeekeepersblog.blogspot.co.uk/2013/11/ukrainian-beekeeping-saints-protectors.html" target="_blank">Image of icon print</a> (St Zozimus on the left)</li>
</ul>
<li style="text-align: left;">On my return, Sarah gave me a Tintin mug: 'I'm looking for answers'.</li>
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Swarm_Catcherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06635064315471827418noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5131781421720850788.post-58213113174682957672014-05-08T12:56:00.002-07:002014-05-08T13:23:00.744-07:00Flemish NRttKust 2014The first May Bank Holiday is one of my favourite weekends of the year. It involves going over to Belgium to see my family and celebrate my mum's birthday.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ExccPRccO9wW05UzTHJ3yK538F_f-82f7b8BNjGFYLnd63Owp4fikBJbfeE2PnTOHeWEi0rnORKy12f4GcBjkl7bKuMwapdQ3JINVVBgZHko-X6NegELo-NUrVfgHU-gQVgoCtFfTMkD/s1600/IMG_3221.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ExccPRccO9wW05UzTHJ3yK538F_f-82f7b8BNjGFYLnd63Owp4fikBJbfeE2PnTOHeWEi0rnORKy12f4GcBjkl7bKuMwapdQ3JINVVBgZHko-X6NegELo-NUrVfgHU-gQVgoCtFfTMkD/s1600/IMG_3221.JPG" height="302" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Happy Birthday meim!</span></td></tr>
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<div>
After only the second year running, the weekend will now always be associated with the Flemish Night Ride to the Kust also. </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD3wjWg0vCBAZ5zLwTkbjWunOVa70fFiwI8itiu56Evw5DSTBru6pwvOGOQ9E8Udp1q0ZMBQlZva_E685lLVfItromQNORBiFPz7-pa6y3xeaveeuwt5V2VYiGfpskWEC03ngSeD6DzRIO/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-05-02+at+22.03.28.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD3wjWg0vCBAZ5zLwTkbjWunOVa70fFiwI8itiu56Evw5DSTBru6pwvOGOQ9E8Udp1q0ZMBQlZva_E685lLVfItromQNORBiFPz7-pa6y3xeaveeuwt5V2VYiGfpskWEC03ngSeD6DzRIO/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-05-02+at+22.03.28.png" height="173" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Brussels to Ostend via Ghent and Bruges</span></td></tr>
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The 140km route from Brussels to Ostend via Ghent and Bruges was a dream to cycle. Only a few cobbles and a stretch of unsurfaced towpath interrupted the smooth sailing tarmac route through quiet villages and medieval capitals. </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXwAyKfNJj2EHftp4nvLPA46cwGvCK9kFELNa5DeAfChNCoXVZfOb7Pxeq32WPvbRvWI9p8XVfA1L-vtBnRrBbLzevngOU6AHr2mj8zfpDN6aNXeDONA30IXZEeRCDjN1jUSrpGtC3Yqxr/s1600/IMG_3159.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXwAyKfNJj2EHftp4nvLPA46cwGvCK9kFELNa5DeAfChNCoXVZfOb7Pxeq32WPvbRvWI9p8XVfA1L-vtBnRrBbLzevngOU6AHr2mj8zfpDN6aNXeDONA30IXZEeRCDjN1jUSrpGtC3Yqxr/s1600/IMG_3159.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The 'rough' section</span></td></tr>
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Seven of us, lead out by BalkanExpress, formed a companionable group where each looked out for each other, helped out with navigation, pointed out kangaroos, spoke French, Flemish and a little English.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMx9FKuA3clpNTKNHcAWs46vxXYTYdHqbwpLvc5QTn3HW809wjfRuAZ4MM4vBFrv-7vNN4TrXZLEtE88tsr4bYxXHG3hry6eUaiotMaZ62v3pstwRkX1QeBbmcCj0774uV6058JdAy0y1x/s1600/IMG_3163.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMx9FKuA3clpNTKNHcAWs46vxXYTYdHqbwpLvc5QTn3HW809wjfRuAZ4MM4vBFrv-7vNN4TrXZLEtE88tsr4bYxXHG3hry6eUaiotMaZ62v3pstwRkX1QeBbmcCj0774uV6058JdAy0y1x/s1600/IMG_3163.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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We were blown away by the hospitality of our hosts at the middle of the night stop. Lost for words we were, a thank you doesn't seem to do the trick.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHbw23dyi-4FALI1gS54CXNsQ9xweN3SJK-HzD7-fkUFo0ulQKLe5Jpa4YIhC4KF1qh-5wnw-_RdVTB-nqvpQyhkxiMeZCJtTUvCkfMUMpxBZuhh-W68mO3ZRdcixrp6QcUMaRr9_nVT4w/s1600/IMG_3129.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHbw23dyi-4FALI1gS54CXNsQ9xweN3SJK-HzD7-fkUFo0ulQKLe5Jpa4YIhC4KF1qh-5wnw-_RdVTB-nqvpQyhkxiMeZCJtTUvCkfMUMpxBZuhh-W68mO3ZRdcixrp6QcUMaRr9_nVT4w/s1600/IMG_3129.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Hard to leave ....</span></td></tr>
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My sister surprised us again, with a seemingly effortless ride on her hybrid bike.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih7xWrTKdbILBgTSImx0bOAg2sb5ICb9bEbTV4c8G1fyXtVgXKKnSNeW26kHO_T7jCEn_sUGzGFINZc45wzTgfW8HQE9z5dGBT-iZGsLyNZtFjeGxr9OOF6Ea8FrKZprCZ4zo0LaOayvev/s1600/IMG_3181.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih7xWrTKdbILBgTSImx0bOAg2sb5ICb9bEbTV4c8G1fyXtVgXKKnSNeW26kHO_T7jCEn_sUGzGFINZc45wzTgfW8HQE9z5dGBT-iZGsLyNZtFjeGxr9OOF6Ea8FrKZprCZ4zo0LaOayvev/s1600/IMG_3181.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Flandrienne</span></td></tr>
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She was invaluable in pointing out local traffic signal quirks, including that we were standing in the middle of the road rather than on the square in Bruges.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF2ixqoYYRvLryrdrjDWOdgpsg48gbhJCbCidcq5Yzdvyl2non4YqPDFtjXGNNLghpbqGlvdoWKp9QSiwG4gFq9a_huSMGFA9YEs9l_qQHNMrmjsgYzxPFUIFOkC0VJCvvN9pOD9Ygw8NQ/s1600/IMG_3191.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF2ixqoYYRvLryrdrjDWOdgpsg48gbhJCbCidcq5Yzdvyl2non4YqPDFtjXGNNLghpbqGlvdoWKp9QSiwG4gFq9a_huSMGFA9YEs9l_qQHNMrmjsgYzxPFUIFOkC0VJCvvN9pOD9Ygw8NQ/s1600/IMG_3191.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Middle of the road</span></td></tr>
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Once in Ostend, we were spoilt for choice again at patisserie <a href="http://www.caruso.be/" target="_blank">CarusO</a> (just noticed that the O is in upper case). mmmmartin lead the way saying that the 'petit dejeuner copieux' is the only way to go: orange juice, yoghurt, white roll, brown roll, ham, cheese, coffee/tea/milk chocolate, all sorts of spreads and scrambled egg to boot. I hope we do this trip again, then I'll try their speciality called 'Misérables'. I hadn't heard of this before despite the claim it's a Belgian classic.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeRqQiUd_Ssf46Nmht1TrYGXvOlhJCWlvVJ1yy0Q7dkFXWI7H1TZuY1g76UCohQCqBtVT3XIzEB7LCcH1XXsGWVxhIdBacuM1nCUUtYVQBV-vk04daoYHwRSXsWIURwAAaTNQLTTF72Ahy/s1600/IMG_3207.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeRqQiUd_Ssf46Nmht1TrYGXvOlhJCWlvVJ1yy0Q7dkFXWI7H1TZuY1g76UCohQCqBtVT3XIzEB7LCcH1XXsGWVxhIdBacuM1nCUUtYVQBV-vk04daoYHwRSXsWIURwAAaTNQLTTF72Ahy/s1600/IMG_3207.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Patisserie CarusO</span></td></tr>
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It was time to part our ways, and my sister and I went over to the beach where we found it very quiet and inviting despite the number of people around. It would have been nice to sit and soak up the atmosphere for a while. Instead we cycled over to the station, bought our tickets and boarded our train. </div>
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A big thank you to all involved, especially our wonderful hosts for getting up in the middle of the night to feed us. There was no mistaking we had reached the correct house as the candles and string lights were drawing us in. The door opened to a table laid out with an abundance of soup, croissants, cake, biscuits, bread, tea, coffee, juices .... just wonderful.</div>
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This was a amazing, 'treasurable', night carried out in Fridays' spirits of the highest order.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Karl Marx was here 1847</span></td></tr>
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Swarm_Catcherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06635064315471827418noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5131781421720850788.post-8066784617474328442014-04-20T07:48:00.000-07:002014-04-20T23:28:16.157-07:00The Easter Arrow 2014The death of Gabriel Garcia Marquez broke the ice at the breakfast table. 'One hundred years of solitude' Arabella said with a rising inflection. No, I have not read it, but I will now!<br />
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There was more education to come from our captain when she said she had been abstemious with the salt in the porridge. Fantastic word.<br />
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Porridge, hot cross buns, coffee and tea made for a great start to the Easter Arrow weekend. I would like to write that it was a sign of things to come, instead I can confirm that it turned out to be one of highlights.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ri7SJfo5dfI/U1ODlOSbbRI/AAAAAAAAWdc/Bl6UzTLhWz0/s1600/IMG_2973.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ri7SJfo5dfI/U1ODlOSbbRI/AAAAAAAAWdc/Bl6UzTLhWz0/s1600/IMG_2973.JPG" height="234" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Home made hot cross buns</span></td></tr>
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The other highlight was the finish at the Punchbowl pub in York.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lojLYHdXsio/U1PGIWFGGmI/AAAAAAAAWd8/PgfXQYys-GY/s1600/10177434_1491354981083315_3852905083447230534_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lojLYHdXsio/U1PGIWFGGmI/AAAAAAAAWd8/PgfXQYys-GY/s1600/10177434_1491354981083315_3852905083447230534_n.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Me at the finish.<br />Never been so happy to wear pink and show it off!</span></td></tr>
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We had no punctures, no mechanicals, no rain, no snow, no storms, no arguments, no delays, no detours, an excellent route, wonderful scenery .... so what can the matter be: the matter was a strong headwind, all the way. I hardly came out of granny gear!<br />
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I had also underestimated the temperature. By lunchtime I was already wearing all the layers I had with me. I go in waves of buying from 'that'll do' cycling clothes to top of the range 'only the best will do' cycling clothes and back down again. Unfortunately I'm in a 'that'll do' wave, and my jacket turned out to be a boil in the bag piece of plastic. Every time we stopped cycling, I started shivering through a wet jersey. A recipe for hypothermia, I thought, if the temperature drops further during the night section. I was very worried.<br />
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Which brings me to another highlight: the 24 hour Asda at Newark. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vhoIm20Ijeo/U1OEb2Gu7II/AAAAAAAAWRo/nSE4b3BG-WQ/s1600/IMG_3026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vhoIm20Ijeo/U1OEb2Gu7II/AAAAAAAAWRo/nSE4b3BG-WQ/s1600/IMG_3026.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Watching you, watching me</span></td></tr>
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Oh yes, a 24 hours Asda in the middle of Newark at a time when all the drunk people spill out on the pavement and wonder the streets. I could see a guy on the pavement losing his balance stepping backwards into the road just as Jo was cycling past. A few expletives followed. The sight of scantily dressed women made me feel even colder. The 24 hour Asda, where we would have the floor of the entrance lobby all to ourselves, was a haven. A haven with a clothes department where we could buy extra layers. We were looking for fleeces, but Jo came back saying there was nothing suitable there. We went back in, Jo to the boy's section and me aiming for the men's section. But something in the women's section caught my eye that I thought 'if this thing doesn't keep me warm, at least it will make me smile'. The pink bunny jumper saved my arrow.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-82DPVU7IBoA/U1OD65dN31I/AAAAAAAAWPI/TcnVEftf8b0/s1600/IMG_2998.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-82DPVU7IBoA/U1OD65dN31I/AAAAAAAAWPI/TcnVEftf8b0/s1600/IMG_2998.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Spot the fast laydiz</span></td></tr>
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Unfortunately the arrow couldn't be saved for Lindsay. Arabella had noted something was wrong. 'How come we're ahead for the fast laydiz?', she said. But Lindsay had stopped to take a call, bad news, her cycling buddy on another team, had collapsed. We could hear her agree: 'Yes, making sure he doesn't die is a priority'. Lindsay has a way with words, and left us three with one: 'Bye!'.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w0VFC9NCDBs/U1OENqMAN_I/AAAAAAAAWb4/3ETL731-nkQ/s1600/IMG_3012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w0VFC9NCDBs/U1OENqMAN_I/AAAAAAAAWb4/3ETL731-nkQ/s1600/IMG_3012.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Easter Bunny mascots, courtesy of fboab</span></td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: center;">Lindsay passed on her mascot to Jo, who had lost her own - it probably flew off in the wind! Jo's forum name is 'rabbit', so she was very happy to be reunited with a bunny mascot. Jo has a background in mountain biking. When we went through Crowland with it's </span>magnificent <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trinity_Bridge,_Crowland" target="_blank">Trinity Bridge</a>, I had wondered what the history behind the monument was. Whereas Jo's thinking was what a great mountain biking feature it would be.<br />
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The Easter Arrow is a quirky event. At least three of you (or three machines) need to get to the finish. Unusually in audaxing, there is a winner. The team that covers the longest distance in 24 hours is crowned the winner. It's never a surprise who the winner is because the teams' intentions are often known beforehand. It does mean that everybody puts a 24 hours effort in, regardless of ability. And instead of recovered people leaving just as I arrive shattered at the finish, everybody looks equally shattered at the end of an arrow, and stays for breakfast. There is another quirky rule called the 22nd hour rule, and one of the reasons why I'm so happy to have Arabella as captain. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3av8bOLvcGc/U1OE_Aoa_CI/AAAAAAAAWVg/fwYXZ2Q8gQE/s1600/IMG_3069.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3av8bOLvcGc/U1OE_Aoa_CI/AAAAAAAAWVg/fwYXZ2Q8gQE/s1600/IMG_3069.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Wonder women CrinklyLion</span></td></tr>
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There were many, many familiar faces at the finish - and a good reason to do the arrow again. I love the 'how did it go for you' chats. Everybody has a story to tell. However, CrinklyLion, the cake supplier extraordinaire, will be abroad for Easter 2015. Which is an equally good reason for not doing the arrow again next year. Arabella and I had already agreed that we might skip an edition - because this one, truthfully, was an edition where you wouldn't mind getting your bike stolen. When Denise insisted that I should captain a women's team, I insisted that I couldn't because I would never understand the 22nd hour rule.<br />
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The good moments were the villages, the fens, the guided bus, Jo saying 'epic' 14 times, the food, the company, the chats, the birds, the lambs, the smell of nectar, CrinklyLion and Isaac providing the cake fest, the mountain bike feature and the sun rise. Arabella said it wouldn't heat the earth, but I happily replied that it would warm my heart. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-a3Ch9XX28s8/U1OEgklnGII/AAAAAAAAWZc/KLtRtqpXyfc/s1600/IMG_3033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-a3Ch9XX28s8/U1OEgklnGII/AAAAAAAAWZc/KLtRtqpXyfc/s1600/IMG_3033.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sunrise in Selby</span></td></tr>
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Many thanks to Arabella and fboab for planning the route. Thanks to all three laydiz for a fantastic effort. I can feel the Tuesday blues kicking in, because I want to thank everybody: Crinkly, Isaac, the teams, the staff at Spoons and the guy calling me 'effing weirdo' as I tried to get my bike out of the beer garden. You are all wonderful. Best wishes to Chris, hope you get a diagnosis.<br />
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Photos are here: <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/113386555289222850470/EasterArrow2014?authuser=0&feat=directlink" target="_blank">MyPhotos</a><br />
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Other thoughts:<br />
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<ul>
<li>Seems my Easter Arrow charm worked again when I asked a second time of we could use the 'shut' toilets at the 24 hours Asda. I figured they were blocked off to discourage the drunks coming in. The trick was to ask the guy who had given me eye contact rather than the 'shut' guy who was busy reading 'a paper'.</li>
<li>Once it got light, seeing parked cars with a layer of ice on the windows made me realise it was much colder than just freezing</li>
<li>I spared a thought for John Radford</li>
<li>Me singing (!) to pass the night time, prevent the dozies and cheer us up. Jo must have been pleased when Arabella took over! 'Oh, what a beautiful morning ...!'</li>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dOOw-sYG1FQ/U1OEsMqLcUI/AAAAAAAAWTo/FqOer86qrFI/s1600/IMG_3046.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dOOw-sYG1FQ/U1OEsMqLcUI/AAAAAAAAWTo/FqOer86qrFI/s1600/IMG_3046.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Congratulations to Jo 'rabbit' - on riding her longest distance.</span></td></tr>
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Swarm_Catcherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06635064315471827418noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5131781421720850788.post-78624103374366614062014-04-01T23:05:00.000-07:002014-04-03T11:20:45.775-07:00The Dean 300<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This is how pleased was I to see Andrew!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Me, near Cutsdean (by andrewp)</span></td></tr>
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I was just taking a photo of the farm I still want to buy (if I could!).</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JQOq7C7rupc/UznWrsIuvQI/AAAAAAAAWEE/YUFY17mUrh0/s3200/IMG_2956.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JQOq7C7rupc/UznWrsIuvQI/AAAAAAAAWEE/YUFY17mUrh0/s3200/IMG_2956.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">2014</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">2010</span></td></tr>
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My mind was where it usually is at this stage of a ride. Thoughts of lantern rouge, reminders not to overdo the photos, take it easy, enjoy the day ... even if you're going to be going round on your own... </div>
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I knew Andrew was doing the ride and gathered I must not have seen him in the car park at the start, and now he's way up ahead of me. Shame, I like to have a chat with Andrew. We reminisce over the Wessex Series rides, and the 10 minute kip we had in the middle of a cycle path.</div>
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When he caught up with me, he explained how he had his own sneezing panda moment on discovering he'd overslept. We chatted for a while before I encouraged him to go ahead without me. But we chatted some more, reminisced over the Wessex Series rides, and the 10 minute kip we had in the middle of a cycle path. </div>
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A police van pulled up along us, telling us through the open window that we 'really should be cycling in single line'. I was going to be happy to agree with them, but Andrew said 'No we don't!', and waved them on their way. </div>
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For the first half of the ride, we had tailwind (with a bit of south in it according to Andrew). But by Chepstow my legs were like jelly. Refuelling at the petrol station did the trick. We saw a few other riders and yoyo'd with them till Stanford. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Refuelling at Chepstow</span></td></tr>
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It's at Stanford that a spoke in my back wheel broke. I asked Francis if he had a spoke key, which he'd did. It was only when I was back in the car that I remembered that one of my spanners does have a spoke key slot in it. With a bit of Francis' encouragement we true'd the wheel and loosened the brakes, enough to make it rideable. </div>
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Andrew replaced an inner tube whilst we were at Membury Service Station. The Membury stop was cosy with a few other riders around the table. Service is always top notch with detailed explanations on why they can't print a receipt from one till or another. Earlier, I had already messed up their system by waiting at the coffee machine for a coffee instead of going to the till to pay first. 'Had I not read the sign?'. And then I dared to ask for a receipt after they'd cashed up'. 'Can't I see the tills are closed?'. I was in a dozy enough state to think it was not my problem. I was reminded that they need to close one till at a time and that they have now already done till 2. But Mary on till 3 was on to it, she produced the receipt. Amazing! I love Membury Services.</div>
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We togged up and set off for the last leg back to Oxford. I got the dozies and requested we'd 'talk' some more. We had already chatted about the Wessex Series rides, and the 10 minute kip we had in the middle of a cycle path. I brought up the subject of Toastmasters and Andrew shared insights on e-cigarettes, influencing my views on them on the way. </div>
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Our non-faff stops means we finished the ride with 15 minutes spare. When we got receipts in Oxford we became surrounded by friendly party-goers, asking the usual 'what are you doing' questions. The last stretch back to the Peartree car park didn't seem to drag this time. We said our goodbyes and I snugged into a sleeping bag. I woke up at day break and then drove off home, still stopping at each service station on the way.</div>
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Fabulous day. My conclusion that my audaxing journey is coming to an end has been shattered again.</div>
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Many thanks to Andrew Rodgers for organising the ride. </div>
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Photos are here: <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/113386555289222850470/TheDean300March2014?authuser=0&feat=directlink" target="_blank">MyPhotos</a></div>
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Other thoughts:</div>
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<ul>
<li>Seeing Frank at the start being able to congratulate him on his engagement.</li>
<li>Seeing zigzag, the zigzagging Transcontinental hero.</li>
<li>Seeing oh so many familiar faces like fboab and Priddy.</li>
<li>Spring signs of skylarks, lambs, daffodils, willow catkins, and sun.</li>
<li>My running hasn't done my climbing legs any good.</li>
<li>Hearing the wild pigs in the Forest of Dean.</li>
<li>Francis on fixed wheel.</li>
</ul>
Swarm_Catcherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06635064315471827418noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5131781421720850788.post-64542504752411142102014-03-23T13:19:00.000-07:002014-03-23T13:19:12.461-07:00The Dean 300 - 29 March<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The Dean 300 can be described as a 'Wales and back' ride. It starts in Oxford (where you'll find oxes), goes west to the Forest of Dean (where you'll find wild pigs), takes you to the half way point at Chepstow (where you'll find Wales), goes to the most southerly point of Marlborough (where you'll find white horses) and then back north to Oxford.</div>
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I spent yesterday afternoon audaxifying my bike, which had me thinking about the highlights from previous years:<br />
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<ul>
<li>sunrise as we cycle out of Oxford into the country side</li>
<li>skylarks and daffodils</li>
<li>Cotswolds</li>
<li>hearing the wild pigs in the Forest of Dean</li>
<li>the chalk horses in Wiltshire - when I'm quick enough to get there in daylight</li>
<li>lunch in Chepstow's Aslan's cafe (yes this list is in a random order)</li>
<li>Severn Bridge</li>
<li>the climb to Somerset monument</li>
<li>the magnificent Membury services, only audaxers would note that as a highlight!</li>
</ul>
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In good conditions, this is a fabulous ride showing off some great British countryside. Weather forecast for next weekend is promising. I need to be mindful of headwind on way back and the temperature dropping after dark. Looking forward to it.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Forest of Dean on previous ride.</span></td></tr>
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Swarm_Catcherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06635064315471827418noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5131781421720850788.post-48876543860326700712014-03-16T02:12:00.003-07:002014-03-23T13:20:38.457-07:00The Steam Ride 200<div>
I was steaming at the end of this ride! It was very hot, and all day I was wearing the layers I would need after sunset. But no one complained , we're all on the same train. <br />
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What a great theme for a ride: the Steam Ride. The route touches on all the steam train venues in the south east: Ruislip, Quainton, Didcot, Cholsey and Southall.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Steam Ride 200</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Toy and steam trains at Quainton</span></td></tr>
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I dread it and love it at the same time, when I haven't done a 200 for a while. All was going well till the first control at Quainton. I was slow, but having fun taking pictures, enjoying the pre-spring country side. Daffodils are out, and the trees are just about to pop their buds. Happy days, it's all coming back to me, I do still love cycling.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">I must visit Waddeson Manor and grounds</span></td></tr>
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Then the dreaded happened. My GPS shut down and rebooted with nothing to show. Back to the olden days with paper route sheet, which, thankfully, I always bring with me as backup. I rigged up the folded papers with elastic bands, which, thankfully, I always bring with me in a you-never-know-way.</div>
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I tried not to worry ahead of the dark section when reading route sheets and navigation becomes more challenging. I find it challenging enough without darkness, but there is always silver lining. For example, although I was on the right way to Wallingford on the Hithercroft Road, I started to doubt and retraced. I went the Church Road way instead. This takes you over part of the North Wessex Downs. I was treated to a great 360 view! I'd recommend Tim to detour that way for the next edition. There was a local cyclist taking a breather ... or smoking a cigarette. I stopped for directions. 'Nice view, he?', he said. 'Oh yes, beautiful, it's worth the climb', I replied. He then gave me directions consistent with going the wrong way.<br />
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The guys wouldn't have realised it, but the group of riders in the photo below, gave me great support. They were upbeat, having fun, very friendly. Seeing them at controls and on the road on and off boosted my spirits every time.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-71OwPHEDBHw/Ux1aGvR2ejI/AAAAAAAAWAs/iyEtrAE8CGk/s1600/IMG_2937.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-71OwPHEDBHw/Ux1aGvR2ejI/AAAAAAAAWAs/iyEtrAE8CGk/s1600/IMG_2937.JPG" height="198" width="320" /></a></div>
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A big thank you to Michael for riding with me from Chinnor onwards. I would have got lost ending up back in Oxford if it hadn't been for him. We arrived back at headquarters just in time for the BRM cut off, which added to the steam effect once inside 'The Water's Edge' pub.<br />
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Many thanks to Tim and team of volunteers for setting up this day of steam rides.<br />
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Photos are here: <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/113386555289222850470/TheSteamride2002014?authuser=0&feat=directlink" target="_blank">MyPhotos</a><br />
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Other thoughts:<br />
<ul>
<li>Cleaning my bike on the Saturday, the chain looked like a scarecrow</li>
<li>Brilliant to have another local audax</li>
<li>Spotted Chequers this time</li>
<li>Controller hats and whistles were a nice touch</li>
<li>Big field of riders on multiple events</li>
<li>Red kites flying high and low</li>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Thank you to all controllers!</span></td></tr>
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Swarm_Catcherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06635064315471827418noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5131781421720850788.post-33414933675033965512014-03-06T14:14:00.001-08:002014-03-06T14:15:50.600-08:00The Steam Ride 200 - 9th March<div>
"If you weren't a Steam enthusiast at the beginning of the ride, you're sure to return one."</div>
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What a promise! I hope I'll have enough time to stop and look at the Mallards and Bitterns of this world. I know those trains because they can sometimes be seen at Southall Train station. </div>
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The route going through Southall makes this my most local audax on the calendar. It's a brand new event also. I feel one has to ride ones local randonnee.</div>
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The most western control is Oxford and we 'visit' steam venues like Ruislip Lido, Didcot, Buckinghamshire, Southall, Chinnor & Princes Risborough, Cholsey and Wallingford Railway Centres. <br />
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Click on image to see detail of route.</div>
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Saturday will be dedicated to pre-audax rituals such as cleaning the bike, breaking something on the bike, getting tape and cable ties out, shopping for audax food, going to bed early which usually results in a disturbed sleep ... but ... it's the ritual. </div>
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Thank you to Tim Sollesse and team for putting on the <a href="http://sollesse.wix.com/steamride" target="_blank">Steam Ride day</a>. I'm looking forward to it!</div>
Swarm_Catcherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06635064315471827418noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5131781421720850788.post-63619760993258399552014-01-01T05:09:00.002-08:002014-01-01T05:14:46.346-08:00FNRttC XMas TouretteTourette? Only the grandest tour of the best buildings in London you could ever have missed. If I was pointed out just one of those buildings a month, I'd be happy for all of 2014. Maybe there is a calendar idea in there for mmmartin.<br />
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It's not only what you see, it's what it makes you see that gets me shaking my head. For example the building on the corner of Bethnal Green Road was not part of the tour but caught my eye.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QxOcnGQ5t4w/UsEWobq1c0I/AAAAAAAAVuw/Va7ebKn2YJs/s1600/IMG_2573.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QxOcnGQ5t4w/UsEWobq1c0I/AAAAAAAAVuw/Va7ebKn2YJs/s320/IMG_2573.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The old Swan Tavern incorporated into a new building.<br />I like the first floor windows.</span></td></tr>
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Other moments, nothing to do with architecture, made this a bit of a magical tour in itself. There were the mounted House Guards coming through Wellington Arch. There was archery going on in Kensington Gardens. There were star stalkers, a wheel walker, a gutter guy and a white wedding. Also the 'why a goat?' sculpture in Spitalfields and the street art in the east end generally.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Why use a pavement when there is an empty gutter.</span></td></tr>
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I did quite a bit of post-ride internet searching. It's easy to get carried away with tenuous links. Try googling Arne Jacobsen. You will not find a building, but images of chairs and cutlery. Arne shares the same birthday with me. But back to the Danish Embassy building - would I have stopped to look if it hadn't been pointed out to me?<br />
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No such question comes to mind when seeing the Blue House.<br />
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It reminded me of a photo I had taken earlier in the day.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0hGR8fUCuEU/UsEWYR80XuI/AAAAAAAAVrw/UVEA4yG1KB8/s1600/IMG_2542.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0hGR8fUCuEU/UsEWYR80XuI/AAAAAAAAVrw/UVEA4yG1KB8/s320/IMG_2542.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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And round the corner was a little surprise.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Corner of Garner Street</span></td></tr>
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What a treat this modest Tourette was. Thank you Simon!<br />
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Photos are here: <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/113386555289222850470/FNRttCXmasTourette?authuser=0&authkey=Gv1sRgCPaWmLSqz53rJQ&feat=directlink" target="_blank">MyPhotos</a>Swarm_Catcherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06635064315471827418noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5131781421720850788.post-75055233514302774492013-12-09T12:29:00.000-08:002014-03-23T13:19:57.145-07:00The Winter Boat Trip 200It's OK to count down the miles at the end of a ride. But at the beginning of a ride? We were only 5km in and I was already implementing my 'always get to the first control' rule. I was counting down the miles to Quainton. I had forgotten my lock, my gps was not behaving like it normally does, I couldn't find the info control, it just wasn't going to be my day for cycling. There were plenty of things I could be doing at home, like writing up my Russian ride. Do bear with me on that, it's not that I haven't started. In fact I've started a couple of times … <br />
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I got to the first control and everything fell into place. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A8yCDQXTRzQ/UqWEsGOejrI/AAAAAAAAVdo/Ud9KPetsuRU/s1600/IMG_2339.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A8yCDQXTRzQ/UqWEsGOejrI/AAAAAAAAVdo/Ud9KPetsuRU/s320/IMG_2339.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">First control at Quainton</span></td></tr>
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It was a great day out. I feel I haven't lost too much form after several months off audaxing, I'm still slow. That doesn't matter. You get to enjoy the ride for longer. You can see all of the long sunset we had. In fact sunrise was long also.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7b5HgXoBmhc/UqWEkEAP4hI/AAAAAAAAVcM/Hb371izSnxQ/s1600/IMG_2316.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7b5HgXoBmhc/UqWEkEAP4hI/AAAAAAAAVcM/Hb371izSnxQ/s320/IMG_2316.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sunrise in the country</span></td></tr>
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A lot seemed to be happening in the sky. A biplane overflew me. I was gazing too much to get my camera ready. But I got a few photos of the kites which were over and across, up and down all around us at some stage.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvL-zb8xECbK904ksv7M56UCS7I24cK3pdg4WNQMvMAGYvEwqGGsdIYbDw1RalrdGs4knesXPG0cJxaXV_T2VvgQ_PA9XipLXr-oEKtbdZ9JA32yQVaVuBi2QurI4fdY-X6pYP3B3OiM5v/s1600/IMG_2320.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvL-zb8xECbK904ksv7M56UCS7I24cK3pdg4WNQMvMAGYvEwqGGsdIYbDw1RalrdGs4knesXPG0cJxaXV_T2VvgQ_PA9XipLXr-oEKtbdZ9JA32yQVaVuBi2QurI4fdY-X6pYP3B3OiM5v/s320/IMG_2320.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Kites in the sky</span></td></tr>
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I was riding on my own most of the time, apart from a section with Mel. After Stoke Bruerne, I waited and waited for the lunchers to catch up with me. But nobody did. At the last control, two riders finally turned up. I ended up doing the dark hours with one of them, I appreciated his company.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BFTjUN-0t6M/UqWE0ml69uI/AAAAAAAAVfI/Nk521dC0ykA/s1600/IMG_2353.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BFTjUN-0t6M/UqWE0ml69uI/AAAAAAAAVfI/Nk521dC0ykA/s320/IMG_2353.JPG" height="228" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Company at the Co-op shop</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I enjoyed cycling through Waddesdon and the Waddesdon Manor grounds. I must visit, it's in cycling distance! Plenty to see and do with a house, gardens, aviary, art collection and restaurant. The place sounds fascinating. Although I knew about the Rothschilds through banking and wine, I didn't know there is so much Rothschild history right here. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-e-6PjRgd00Y/UqWErr5zXbI/AAAAAAAAVdg/V8RghA9vCfA/s1600/IMG_2337.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-e-6PjRgd00Y/UqWErr5zXbI/AAAAAAAAVdg/V8RghA9vCfA/s320/IMG_2337.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Spotted in the grounds of Waddesdon Manor</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The cut through Towcester Racecourse was also good. They give you glimpses of other worlds. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-McDJpVdwJSA/UqWEusn6gZI/AAAAAAAAVeI/dfuF60RIyNE/s1600/IMG_2345.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-McDJpVdwJSA/UqWEusn6gZI/AAAAAAAAVeI/dfuF60RIyNE/s320/IMG_2345.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Towcester Racecourse</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Thanks to Manotea and helpers for organising.<br />
<br />
Photos are here: <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/113386555289222850470/Audax2013TheWinterBoatTrip200?authuser=0&feat=directlink" target="_blank">MyPhotos</a><br />
<br />
Other thoughts:<br />
<ul>
<li>Route is Hillingdon, Quainton, Stoke Bruerne, Tring and Ickenham, see <a href="http://www.aukweb.net/events/detail/13-348/" target="_blank">Auk event</a></li>
<li>A little bit of rain</li>
<li>Temperatures dropped after dark, but it was a mild day overall</li>
<li>Seeing Father Christmas</li>
<li>Arabella hinting at an Easter Arrow 2014</li>
<li>I need a new headlight</li>
<li>Victoria Sponge at Quainton was excellent.</li>
<li>Should I make my 'I love my velo' tattoo permanent?</li>
</ul>
Swarm_Catcherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06635064315471827418noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5131781421720850788.post-31413531226519247052013-10-22T13:25:00.000-07:002013-11-02T06:26:19.920-07:00FNRttC - WhitstableI found myself at the back of the net. You might think this is a footballing term, but not when you know that the net of 'tail end charlies' and 'allupper' doesn't let anybody through. I was loving our exit out of London, taking a few photos on the way. When we passed the Shard I realised that I had never taken a photo of that building. So I made a deliberate stop. It made me nervous, because the thought of being caught faffing and holding up the ride is one thing, but to do this whilst barely across the Thames is another! I was already putting away my camera, but still, the net was closing in on me. Susie's call of 'we'll wait for you', didn't make me feel any better. It's as good as a telling off.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AYBgAbq2Dlo/UmOdMSJDE6I/AAAAAAAAVPM/ke0sqq-pnEE/s1600/IMG_2094.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AYBgAbq2Dlo/UmOdMSJDE6I/AAAAAAAAVPM/ke0sqq-pnEE/s320/IMG_2094.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Shard - tallest building in the European Union</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I had ambitions of doing a bit of way marking, however not once did I find myself in a position to offer my services. I've lost a bit of condition but this ride was fast! It was great. The peloton was often spread out which allows for long stretches of chasing, which I quite like. <br />
<br />
We were in Gravesend in no time. The forecourt of The Call Boy pub is where we normally stop and gather. I've always liked that stop even though it feels so dead in the night. When I first spotted the blue star on the pub swing board, back in 2011, I liked the place even more.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iPdf0UyJbxo/TsDFqpO77-I/AAAAAAAAM2M/jd-sBsKHcLA/s1600/IMG_4277.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iPdf0UyJbxo/TsDFqpO77-I/AAAAAAAAM2M/jd-sBsKHcLA/s320/IMG_4277.JPG" width="262" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Taken in 2011</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
This time! This time, it didn't feel dead in the night. There was a lively gathering of people interested in what we were doing. I saw that the pub was open for business, and then immediately looked up to the swing board. It wasn't The Call Boy anymore, but ...<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlYakPIcRQ2fZBYMJ1BHzNxAlZT5DqErVNi9s30Rc_0GiB4_ipgtRlBhegi1h5XmfRvgWvwtgDUyZmLOWol5Zayt-XQmYioFZzLk2xh90-vYDT8TWRh-eMSANWKA5xX4Ls72RmJFUzjjS_/s1600/10409831235_cdcd5311f3_b-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlYakPIcRQ2fZBYMJ1BHzNxAlZT5DqErVNi9s30Rc_0GiB4_ipgtRlBhegi1h5XmfRvgWvwtgDUyZmLOWol5Zayt-XQmYioFZzLk2xh90-vYDT8TWRh-eMSANWKA5xX4Ls72RmJFUzjjS_/s320/10409831235_cdcd5311f3_b-2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Photo by Trickedem - <a href="http://cyclingmagic.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">http://cyclingmagic.blogspot.com</a></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
... Angels. Angels, the gayest place in town. <br />
<br />
Now back to The Call Boy. His uniform gives away that this is to do with theatre. A call boy calls the stars to the stage, saying something like 'You're on in 5 minutes.' This pub is where there used to be the Grand Theatre of Gravesend. Have a look at an old photo on this <a href="http://www.discovergravesham.co.uk/gravesend/the-grand-theatre.html" target="_blank">site</a>.<br />
<br />
All settled back to usual paces after the magnificent halfway stop in Strood. I was pleased to be able to take off some layers, it was a very warm evening. It was my first experience at the English Martyrs Church Hall. There was a 'volunteer' to rider ratio of about 1:10, which allowed for welcoming and efficient proceedings! Thank you!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zLKQkaJpK38/UmOdQHk5bEI/AAAAAAAAVPw/D7G8sztDyB8/s1600/IMG_2100.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zLKQkaJpK38/UmOdQHk5bEI/AAAAAAAAVPw/D7G8sztDyB8/s320/IMG_2100.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Abundance at the church hall</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We took a slightly different route through Faversham, and went along the Market.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rWFVTQ3HEu8/UmOdafoh5RI/AAAAAAAAVRc/QHonNU4QOBk/s1600/IMG_2122.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rWFVTQ3HEu8/UmOdafoh5RI/AAAAAAAAVRc/QHonNU4QOBk/s320/IMG_2122.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Faversham Market</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The purpose of the fast pace was to do with beating the rain to the coast. And it worked. We were soon able to enjoy breakfast by the seaside.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AbA5zYBQDtE/UmOdcmSc2EI/AAAAAAAAVRs/jZa1SwPRJkA/s1600/IMG_2125.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AbA5zYBQDtE/UmOdcmSc2EI/AAAAAAAAVRs/jZa1SwPRJkA/s320/IMG_2125.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Whitstable</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I had a little wonder after spotting this guy below. He'd collected some lugworms which are used as fishing bait. The handful he'd gathered were worth £15. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-A95jSu4NjRg/UmOdez5bRkI/AAAAAAAAVSA/VlKzV6-dOVM/s1600/IMG_2128.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-A95jSu4NjRg/UmOdez5bRkI/AAAAAAAAVSA/VlKzV6-dOVM/s320/IMG_2128.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
It was an excellent ride with great company. I had lovely chats with known and new riders. Some conversations are unique, and it's great when it happens.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I had arranged to have lunch with my girlfriend at the Sportsman, and that didn't disappoint either. Stuart had asked: 'You having oysters today?' We had the tasting menu, which included oysters, oysters like I've never had before, so good. The cream cheese ice cream dessert was so delicious it almost made me cry. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CKP5MOqQfIY/UmOdjITATSI/AAAAAAAAVSo/lUE3aAHdkOU/s1600/IMG_2136.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="220" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CKP5MOqQfIY/UmOdjITATSI/AAAAAAAAVSo/lUE3aAHdkOU/s320/IMG_2136.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Oysters at the Sportsman</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Thanks to Simon for organising, and everybody on the ride who made it memorable. Special thanks to the Strood Eight!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Photos are here: <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/113386555289222850470/FNRttCWhitstable#" target="_blank">MyPhotos</a></div>
Swarm_Catcherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06635064315471827418noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5131781421720850788.post-81249419681073591892013-09-05T21:37:00.002-07:002013-09-05T21:42:36.512-07:00FNRttC Brighton - August 2013It's been a while since this ride was on, but I haven't forgotten it. It was most memorable for seeing Rimas. He had posted that it's not so much the ride he was looking forward to, but seeing the people on the ride. I can identify with that. That he's doing a night ride only one week after finishing 'an extreme' event makes you raise your eyebrows.<br />
<br />
Rimas had taken part in the <a href="http://www.transcontinentalrace.com/" target="_blank">Transcontinental Race</a> from London to Istanbul. That race has an audax feel about it. Not many people know about it. There were only two controls on the way. Riders choose their own route. Self-suffiency is so revered that drafting is frowned upon and made into one of only 10 rules. <a href="http://www.cyclechat.net/threads/the-transcontinental-race-2013.136531/" target="_blank">Cyclechatters</a> were glued to the live tracking screen for at least 11 days 7 hours and 21 seconds. A few other participants were known to us also. And Juliana Buhring caught the eye as the only female rider. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nH_S4U7f4-4/Uhj9h9jnSNI/AAAAAAAAUt4/cfhPYYTOXNM/s1600/IMG_2026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nH_S4U7f4-4/Uhj9h9jnSNI/AAAAAAAAUt4/cfhPYYTOXNM/s320/IMG_2026.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Rimas deciding what cake to eat</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The ride was great. The new way out of London was perfect. Loved it. There were a few early punctures, so that gave a chance for riding slowly, absorbing the night atmosphere, listening, chatting, taking photos... I was in a very relaxed mood. The only pressure I put on myself was to ask Rimas to tell me more about the Transcontinental Race.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iJ83H-kgcAg/Uhj9fxZOt5I/AAAAAAAAUtc/z43b3Dxcsqk/s1600/IMG_2012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iJ83H-kgcAg/Uhj9fxZOt5I/AAAAAAAAUtc/z43b3Dxcsqk/s320/IMG_2012.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">New way out of London</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It was a mild night. But rain, or even downpours had been promised. I had checked my tyres. I replaced them both with less worn ones and still took two spares with me. I wasn't visited, but many others were. Great! More opportunity for chats and snaps. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nUgwWHQPj1I/Uhj9hPkXsnI/AAAAAAAAUtw/UmQo8K6mxQs/s1600/IMG_2025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="276" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nUgwWHQPj1I/Uhj9hPkXsnI/AAAAAAAAUtw/UmQo8K6mxQs/s400/IMG_2025.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">It got wet.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
At the middle of the night scout hut stop, our leader caught me napping rather than snapping- oh the humiliation! <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BsjGuvvakl4/Uhj9jLdujnI/AAAAAAAAUuM/mU9cVbV49KI/s1600/IMG_2031.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BsjGuvvakl4/Uhj9jLdujnI/AAAAAAAAUuM/mU9cVbV49KI/s320/IMG_2031.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Caption competition ...</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
There are reports of people missing a turning. I had a few moments of hesitation myself. So let me share a top tip with budding way markers: stay with your bike and point your bike in the direction of travel. There is more you can do, but that is a good starter. <br />
<br />
Anyhow, I 'd like to thank all way markers, TECs, riders I chatted with, Rimas, and Simon for making it another memorable ride.<br />
<br />
Now, I'm going to read 'Not Without My Sister', a book co-written by Juliana Buhring, about her upbringing and escape from a cult. Thanks to meim for highlighting that. And do read Juliana's <a href="http://julianabuhring.com/a/the-transcontinental-race" target="_blank">blog</a> post on the Transcontinental Ride. It's well written. Phrases such as 'the second winner' are used. Beautiful!<br />
<br />
Next ride is ... Whitstable!<br />
<br />
Rest of the photos are here: <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/113386555289222850470/FNRttCBrighton" target="_blank">MyPhotos</a><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FpfICaMgpd0/Uhj9juvfhWI/AAAAAAAAUuQ/2ilZV_9s738/s1600/IMG_2034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FpfICaMgpd0/Uhj9juvfhWI/AAAAAAAAUuQ/2ilZV_9s738/s400/IMG_2034.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Lindfield</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Swarm_Catcherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06635064315471827418noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5131781421720850788.post-57185642618204999572013-08-01T09:35:00.000-07:002013-08-02T23:24:03.168-07:00FNRttC Newhaven - DieppeI had a first on this ride, which was to use the lift at Gatwick airport. It makes the experience even more surreal. One minute you're riding in the countryside, the next minute you're elevated into a, you wouldn't know it was the middle of the night, airport concourse.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-64CvIQh5cQg/UfDDlMKlwsI/AAAAAAAAUlg/WVWoELu5N1s/s1600/IMG_1677.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-64CvIQh5cQg/UfDDlMKlwsI/AAAAAAAAUlg/WVWoELu5N1s/s320/IMG_1677.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Susie reads the graffiti on the lift walls</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
That first moment of mingling with travellers always brings a smile to my face. It is such a bizarre feeling to be at an airport and not to have to catch a plane nor wait for arrivals. Another bizarre moment was captured in the photo below:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BSBtPq3yy9E/UfDDlxv8n8I/AAAAAAAAUlo/mC2-tQjCde8/s1600/IMG_1679.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="222" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BSBtPq3yy9E/UfDDlxv8n8I/AAAAAAAAUlo/mC2-tQjCde8/s320/IMG_1679.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I had a glowing feeling of homecoming when the Costa Coffee man reminded me of Mr Exit. Maybe it was him? Maybe he's been able to keep his job after much training? His performance has improved so much. He might even have gone the other way, a little ocd perhaps. He kept wiping the table top in front of him, although there was nothing to wipe. But what gave it away was his eyes wondering all around the hall instead of looking at me. He's still searching for the Exit sign, his guiding light, since the Olympic 2012 refurbishments.<br />
<br />
'Double espresso macchiato please', I said. 'Macchiato?', he asked. 'Double espresso macchiato', I repeated. 'Espresso?', he asked. It's him! It's got to be him! I repeated again, 'Double espresso macchiato'. You can't say yes to his questions, otherwise you'd get three drinks coming your way. I overpaid, not waiting for the receipt nor the change, as I wanted to get back, as quickly as I could, to listen to Jim and Stuart's hilarious Friday Touring stories.<br />
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Entertainment over, and off we went, to the coast. It was a wonderful night ride, quick moving, warm (another first was to wear short sleeves all night!), early sunrise ... The breakfast in Newhaven was top class, with whitebait and chips on the menu.<br />
<br />
I had a good kip on the ferry and on waking up was surprised that there wasn't a beer fest going on. Adrian finally gave in and got himself a pint. That one glass stood out so much, that Mice took a picture of it (<a href="http://the5milecyclist.blogspot.co.uk/2013/07/mice-goes-to-paris-for-100th-tour-de.html" target="_blank">Mice's write up with photos</a>).<br />
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The large number of riders disembarking meant we got a little split up, so my goodbyes were a little random. I needed to go left at the roundabout, whereas everybody else was going Centre Ville. My plan was to cycle 60km north (turned out to be a good move!), stay at Camping Chateau De Tilleuls near Abbeville, and then continue my journey to Belgium on the Saturday. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">How wonderful!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The headwind!! Not helped by being in touring mode with double panniers, the headwind was playing havoc with my progress. What could I do but stop at every boulangerie on my way, to restock on energy. I had tarte aux framboise, croissants, chaussons aux pommes, frangipane aux poires and more. If Mice didn't get to a boulangerie because Titus thought that was just wasted Mice faffing time, then at least I made up for it. <br />
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This ride was such a battle against the forces. My legs were fine, but my upper body was suffering from me trying to hold the 'Cavendish position'. Then there were several routes barrées with deviations, I was too law abiding when I saw 'Uitgezonder plaatselijk verkeer' which were only signs ready for Sunday's kermesse, and I could have saved miles and time by going west instead of east when the grounds of Haverkerque were a no-go area. Still, I still arrived home at 5PM.<br />
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I enjoyed breakfast at Hesdin, a place I'm getting fond of in association with the FNRttC Newhaven - Dieppe ride.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Hesdin</span></td></tr>
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It was an absolutely fabulous weekend. Loved every moment. I've come full circle since my Russian trip which started at my parents' place. I picked up the car which was left there. I drove back to the UK in lots of Sunday traffic, and with a seized clutch. During the week, a car mechanic had a look at the sticky clutch pedal, barely touched it, then the cable snapped.<br />
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Big thank you to the Friday Leggends!<br />
Photos are here: <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/113386555289222850470/FNRttCNewhavenDieppe" target="_blank">MyPhotos</a>.<br />
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Another thought:<br />
<ul>
<li>Well done to LD Ferry Lines for a most efficient bicycle check in service. The bikes almost outnumbered the cars, and there was a dedicated bike check in kiosk. It was a pleasure to be treated as VIPs, compared with other years when bikes and riders are seen as a nuisance. They should make a big deal of this, they could turn this into a good marketing/PR story. </li>
</ul>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">More bikes than cars</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<ul>
<li>The fact that a new Belgian king was crowned was hardly visible in Belgium, no bunting, no street parties. But the fact that Belgium was without a king for a few hours was much bigger news. Most talked about, though, was Jan Bekelants' stage winning efforts on Le Tour de France 2013. </li>
<li>Russian ride report to follow! </li>
</ul>
Swarm_Catcherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06635064315471827418noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5131781421720850788.post-2161138878857288932013-05-15T22:08:00.002-07:002013-05-22T22:48:42.094-07:00Making a beeline to RussiaSoon I'll be setting off to the Solovetsky Islands in the White Sea, a 3000km pilgrimage.<br />
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The idea came from something I <a href="http://swarm-catcher-lel.blogspot.co.uk/search/label/St%20Zozimus%20and%20St%20Sabatius" target="_blank">posted</a> on my LEL blog back in 2009. And it was years before (2000 I think), that an article, written by Paul Adriaensen in a Flemish bee magazine, first caught my eye.<br />
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It described St Zozimus and St Sabatius who, in 1429, founded one of the biggest monasteries in Russia. Since then, I kept coming across snippets of information on the topic. Especially their depiction on icons was intriguing. Very often the two monks are presented together, and often with a reference to bees. Both, but more so St Zozimus, are seen as protectors of beekeepers. <br />
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The more I found out, the more I was drawn to the Solovetsky Islands. The islands are now a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The monastery is shown on the 500 rubles banknote. The area has a troubled history, being the site of the first gulag prison camp.<br />
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Religion and history were my worst subjects at school. This pilgrimage is about religion and history. <br />
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Friends and colleagues have wanted to express support. It wasn't my intention to raise funds, but <a href="http://www.beesfordevelopment.org/" target="_blank">Bees for Development</a> (BfD) would certainly welcome a donation. BfD make a huge impact on beepkeers' livelihoods in the developing world. Thank you!<br />
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<a href="https://www.paypal-donations.co.uk/pp-charity/charity.jsp?NP_ID=33419" target="_blank">PayPal Donation - no registration required</a> - do add a 'Note to Seller' with a reference me or this trip.<br />
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I'll tweet using #stzozi, along this 4 week journey. Follow me, tweet me.Swarm_Catcherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06635064315471827418noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5131781421720850788.post-83857062958904957832013-05-09T21:47:00.002-07:002013-05-09T22:07:09.107-07:00Flemish NRttKustThe pictures tell the story: <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/113386555289222850470/FlemishNRttKust?authuser=0&feat=directlink" target="_blank">here</a><br />
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Do you know what a Flandrien is? It's a cyclist who rides until he can't remember his own name, somebody who is silent, never complains, has enormous physical strength and perseverance. Flemish people like to think they're natural born Flandriens. I'd like to add that if you come off your bike, pick yourself up and continue to ride, then that would be a characteristic of a Flandrien also. So with that I'm going to award something very special, it's the unique Friday Foreign Flandrien award and it goes to Susie. Who wouldn't be proud of a triple F status? By the way, Wiggins won the International Flandriens award last year, he was born in Belgium after all ...<br />
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There was a wonderful photo of the start of De Ronde Van Vlaanderen, in Ghent 1930, in the 100 year celebratory magazine of Het Nieuwsblad (March 2013). It shows the peloton on a tramlined, cobblestoned road. Shame I can't find the picture online.<br />
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Those tramlines are still there, and they'll be a feature of the safety talk at next year's Flemish NRttKust. Mind you, we'll be avoiding tram lines at all cost. At least until we reach the coast. Because on the coast, is the longest tram line in the world, as researched by mmmmartin.<br />
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Maybe that is what we should do? Maybe we should ride to Knokke. That could make us ride just north of Ghent. And people wanting to get the tram would get full value of the longest tram line in the world, as researched by mmmmartin. Knokke also has train connections back to Brussels and would be closer for the Delftse Posts amongst us.<br />
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Finding a middle of the night stop might be harder mind.<br />
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For the middle of the night stop, we could fill my sister Kris' pannier bags with pastries and coffee/tea flasks. I had given here a lecture along the lines of 'don't come kitted out for a trek to Kazakhstan'. But, my goodness, she do so well! Never cycled that distance, never cycled at night, brand new bike, recovered from a back injury only days before. Kept up with everybody, took wonderful photos, contributed to navigation. I apologise to her for my sense of humour failure as she brightly suggested we cycle the scenic route home from the local train station, on the way back. I feel so bad, but yep, my sense of humour had gone. I felt battered and shattered and only wanted to get home as quickly as possible. I'm very pleased for my sister that she enjoyed herself. I think she might just have come out tops with her bike taking all the curbs, bumps, cobblestones and tram lines on the way. She went to work on Monday and felt none the worse for the night ride. Just amazing.<br />
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Other thoughts of the weekend:<br />
<ul>
<li>Kris and I sitting outside on La Grande Place eating waffles was great</li>
<li>No rain during the ride</li>
<li>No mechanicals</li>
<li>Hearing cuckoos a couple of times</li>
<li>The little plover (? I think) in Ostend</li>
<li>Cycling through Bruges was absolutely wonderful. I was so in awe that I didn't take any photos. We were already tired by then, and hunting for break stop was priority. But next time (if we go through Bruges again), we should wonder around more. Seeing Bruges empty can be fully appreciated if you've been to Bruges on a typical touristy day.</li>
<li>The many professional looking cycling groups going at great speed along the canal. I would hold my breath in as two opposing groups were crossing ... just next to us.</li>
<li>Hearing the word posh so often (???)</li>
<li>Celebrating my mum's birthday</li>
<li>Coming home (Hanwell), parking, opening the door and hearing a 'YESsssss' from several houses along the street. A moment later, an even bigger cheer was heard. The first Yes, was Brentford saving a penalty, the second Yes, was Brentford scoring the winning penalty goal. The Bees are going to Wembley and I'm going too! </li>
<li>The a low of the news that my parents pet sheep died on the Monday, 16 years old she was</li>
<li>The high of my dynamo light with USB port arriving</li>
<li>The sky high of bumping into V for Vengadetta at work, who told me about his plans on making electronic shifters for somebody who needs both left and right on the same panel. Just brilliant and inspiring</li>
</ul>
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What could be improved?</div>
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<ul>
<li>Definitive route. Contrary to what mmmmartin thinks, I'm no good navigator. I do have a good sense for when I'm lost, which is most of the time. </li>
<li>More scenic route. The Gentsesteenweg may not need many waymarkers, but there is a lot of sameness. I love a warts 'n all route, and you do get that when mapping the most direct route between A and B. I've seen Belgium now, like I have never before! </li>
<li>We'll have scope for a seaside breakfast place, since the ride takes longer than expected, more places will be open</li>
<li>Meet at the station? Cycle through the Grote Markt together?</li>
</ul>
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I loved the company and appreciated the team work. I'm already looking forward to next year. There is some great feedback (max 20 riders is a good call from BalkanExpress). mmmmartin could be our transport correspondent, BalkanExpress could be the Brussels - Ghent guru, and my sister and I will explore Ghent to the coast. </div>
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<br />Swarm_Catcherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06635064315471827418noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5131781421720850788.post-63316513068164303532013-04-09T11:59:00.001-07:002013-04-09T12:06:17.201-07:00The 3Down 300Great news! The front gear cable snapped. I was waiting for it. I wasn't really waiting for the front gear cable to break, but I was waiting for something to happen. I had woken up on time, got to HQ without problems, knew about the road works, remembered to fill my water bottle, no noises from the mudguards, lights ok, correct and latest gps file ... everything was just going so well. It's going to be a puncture in the dark I thought, no, two punctures and a tyre split, or ... maybe my light will stop working. But I have backup for all of that. I was trying to think of something more major, something new. And there you go, how about a gear cable breaking? <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">All going well at HQ</span></td></tr>
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I knew it wasn't a showstopper, but I didn't know how to leave the chain on the middle chain ring. I was looking for a way to release the derailleur spring, which doesn't seem possible. Thank you to the couple who stopped and advised me to just use the two adjustment screws. And thank you to the 3 Specialized guys, plus one, for checking up on me whilst waiting at the railway crossing. At that stage I had already found a new rhythm. What rhythm, mind! I felt like a hamster on a treadmill with my legs spinning all day at high revolutions! On the downhills, when I couldn't pedal to increase speed, I got into uber aerodynamic position. Cavendish would have been proud of me! Chest on saddle stuff it was. Must have looked hilarious, me trying to get every inch of aero advantage, that whilst having a pannier bag hanging off my bike.<br />
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And why is this great news? Because anything that happens now is less likely to happen on the pilgrimage. More about that in a 'Other thoughts'.<br />
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So, once I got back into my rhythm, I was loving the ride. It was a sunny spring day with the hawthorne finally flowering. But it's not spring just yet, not till you can smell the hawthorne. It was a nice sight when a tawny owl flew across me, and in the evening, Colin and I were hearing wonderful owl calls. There was lots of beautiful country side and wildlife to enjoy. A more unusual sight was the meadow pipits in the New Forest. What an elegant bird.<br />
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Lots of families were out cycling in the New Forest. There was one family around me when I had stopped to take the photo below.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Spot the baby cowsie</span></td></tr>
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'O look at that baby cowsie', the youngest boy, 5 years old maybe, had said. What a wonderful moment, only to be spoiled by the dad. 'And what are baby cowsies called Jay?' Oh dear, instead he could have told the boy how unusual it is to see cows on the road. And what about the significance of cattle in religion and the holy cows in India. Surely his boy was ready for that? Having the vocabulary 'holy cow' could be useful in later life? Anyway, Jay said 'calves' before I could bring up the word in my head. <br />
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I feel like I've been on holiday during this ride. A holiday in many countries. The landscape is so varied. The river Test valley area is very distinctive and so is the New Forest, of course. Cycling through Leckford Estate (the Waitrose/John Lewis estate) is like cycling in another world, surrounded by big old imposing trees.<br />
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Towards the end of daylight, I was beginning to struggle. At the 200km mark I could feel I was tired enough for the ride to be over. And I was struggling to eat much. Alarm bells! Focus! It's important to recognise those signals. I made sure that at least I would drink milkshakes. I knew I had to keep my pace to make it round in time. It might have been a slow pace, but it required as much effort as a fast pace. I had been cycling on my own for most of the time. When a bright front light was gradually coming up from behind me, I expect it to be Dave. We had been leapfrogging each other earlier in the day. But it was Colin. We both benefitted from each other's company in that last section.<br />
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We arrived at the finish a 1:30AM, with a whole 30 minutes spare. We were the last to arrive and so earn the lantern rouge honour. Gordon, whom we had spotted at Winnersh, was eating and sharing his thoughts on the ride: 'tough'. Ian and son we perfect 'arrival' stewards, just letting us settle before offering tea and dinner. I had a kip in the car before driving the 15 miles to home. I parked in front of the house and rather than dash for my bed, I had another kip in the car!<br />
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Many thanks to Ian Oliver for organising and team Oliver for the hospitality at the end.<br />
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Other thoughts:<br />
<ul>
<li>the ponies, cows and donkeys in the New Forest - never saw them so much out and about on the road</li>
<li>I have an ever increasing admiration for people using fixed gear bikes</li>
<li>every time there was a climb I thought of the people riding the Hardboiled audax</li>
<li>Colin and I concluding that we'd stick to 200s from now on</li>
<li>next ride is the Severn Across 400</li>
<li>next month (!) I'm setting off on a pilgrimage to Russia covering 3000km to reach the Solovetsky islands in the White Sea. A monk setup a monastery there back in 1436. That monk is known as St Zozimus, the patron saint of beekeepers. John Spooner is joining me. Our visas are in, the ride is on. </li>
</ul>
Photos are here: <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/113386555289222850470/The3Down300?authuser=0&feat=directlink" target="_blank">MyPhotos</a><br />
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<br />Swarm_Catcherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06635064315471827418noreply@blogger.com3