Category: bikes

After the mess of cycling through traffic around Cardiff, it felt incredibly satisfying to finally get on the bridge over the Severn River and land ourselves in England. Suddenly all of the signs were only in English, and a nice friendly Englishman stopped to help us find a campsite for the night, and recommend the flattest way to get to it. It was already after 7pm when we got across, but we cycled to our campsite along fast roads, warm and dry under a beautiful sunset.

 

Cycling over the Severn River Bridge into England

 

The next morning we were swarmed by a herd of chickens as soon as we left the tent. They dogged (chickened) our every move, even following us when we went to the bathroom, waiting patiently outside for our return. Alex was nearly eaten, but we escaped with our lives.

 

Steep little country lanes

 

 

Country sunset

 

 

My bike computer hits 2000km as we reach camp

 

Disappointed to miss Bath, on the recommendation of the cycle tourist we ran into at camp last night, we pick up national cycle route 4, alternating between following it and the canal paths as we work our way east. In the process we discover that canal paths are not always flat. As we head up hills with 12 locks in a row, I think I’d still rather be cycling up them than trying to get a boat through them.

 

Road signs

 

 

We cycle past lots of poppies growing wild

 

Following the path of the rabbits, we flee Newbury for Watership Downs, but then continue south to the coast. We arrive in Chichester at around 6.30pm, and spend the next few hours failing to find campsites – the ones Alex had noted down from the painfully slow internet in Petersfield don’t exist, and the signs we follow don’t take us to anywhere that’s good for people in tents. Eventually we hit on a place near West Wittering. As we set up camp and cook dinner at 9.45pm, the lady owner brings us a cup of tea each, and it’s one of the best cups of tea I’ve ever had.

 

Just near Watership Downs

 

 

Old steam chimney at a canal pumping station

 

 

Steep or Steep Marsh?

 

Working east along the coast, it’s lovely and miserable and raining, and the English folk are all at the beach. We pick up National Cycle Route 2, then reach Brighton, where it’s raining, and decide it’s such a lovely spot that we should spend the night there camping in the rain.

The weather is finally clearing just as we cycle out of Brighton along Route 2, and as we hit the beach the sun shines! And there are white cliffs! Alex is unimpressed by this, as he gets a couple of successive flats as we cycle along the shore. By the time we reached Bexhill-on-Sea it had turned into a gloriously sunny day, and I was contemplating going for a swim until I saw what the ocean looked like (steep stony ‘beach’ and angry brown surf). We hurled some batter puddings and continued to Hastings, which was just as civilised and gentrified as Bexhill.

 

Cycling along the English seaside in the sun

 

Circling the wind farm by the coast, we head out into the marshes, which are filled with a network of quiet lanes, and topped by a big wide open sunny sky. It reminds me of where I grew up, so I feel right at home. In the mornings the air has the crisp and cool feeling of a day that’s going to get really warm, but just hasn’t got there yet.

 

Wind turbine collection in the marshes

 

Finally we arrive in Dover, where we spend a few hours sitting on the grass in the gardens, catching up with an old friend and watching the tomfoolery (like the seagull that we throw a croissant at – it proceeds to swallow it whole, then flies around trying to escape from the other seagulls with half a croissant down its throat. We worry it will die, but it seems fine).

 

Battle of Britain memorial

 

Eventually we wander down to the docks and book for the 5.30pm sailing, we follow our painted cycle line, through immigration and secuirty without anyone so much as glancing at us, and picking up our ticket from the ferry people and then waiting in the blazing sun in the cycle lane. The ferry trip is short and uneventful – France really isn’t very far away.

 

Waiting for the ferry (see, there really are white cliffs)

 

Distance cycled = approx 432km

I’d never really considered the topography of Wales before. I’d always vaguely assumed it had some nice rolling hills, maybe some rocks. So I wasn’t expecting the insanely steep hills that were thrown at us. Tiny little winding country lanes that would force you into your lowest gear, then to stand on your pedals in your lowest gear, then give up and struggle to push your bike up. Mostly they weren’t quite that bad though, which meant that you had no excuse to stop riding – even if you were desperately grinding away in your lowest of granny gears.

 

The town with the very silly name

 

The other thing was the sheep. There seemed to be even more sheep in Wales than in Ireland. And they all liked to talk to each other. Constantly. It probably didn’t help that our first couple of nights were in farm campgrounds, with sheep wandering round, talking to each over across our tent.

 

Entering Snowdonia National Park

 

We spent a lot of time following the National Cycle Route (Number 8 being the one that crosses Wales). We got to be suspicious of its tendency to take us up the steepest hills it could find though.

“Oh, there don’t appear to be any hills here, lets follow Number 8….. oh wait”.

 

Traffig fferm

 

Downhill in the wet on trusty Route 8

 

Thanks to my fingers I didn’t get much sleep last night. We’re cycling uninspiring industrial coastal road into Chitose though, so I don’t feel too bad about the fact that all I can think of is my fingers. On the way we stop at a pharmacy and mange to get a mild steroid cream for me. It doesn’t help much.

 

Drying fish

 

We set up in a campground in urban Chitose, then try to find some more medical help. We end up at a pharmacy with a girl who phones her English teacher, who comes to the pharmacy to try and help. They are all lovely, and I go away with a numbing cream of some sort, which also doesn’t help. Tomorrow we’ll try the hospital.

Another night of not enough sleep thanks to fingers, and I spend all morning in search of, and at, the hospital. I come away with drained blisters, a stronger steroid cream, cotton gloves, and some lovely strong pain killers. We find some food in the city, I take my first pain killer, then we set off to the airport. I start slurring my words, and concentrate very hard on cycling.

As we arrive at Chitose Airport we say goodbye to the Boy, who keeps cycling south through the rest of Japan. We sit packing away our bikes into the Tardis bags, and our panniers into our low-rent stripy plastic bags, which are rapidly disintegrating. Check-in is fine (no excess luggage hurrah – we’re flying JAL, but through the oneworld Japan tickets), mosburger for dinner is tasty (my ‘bun’ consists of a fried rice patty, oh the tastiness), and the flight goes fine, spitting us out at Tokyo Haneda airport just as it is closing for the night. We can’t get to Narita tonight, but we need to be there first thing in the morning. It’s nearly midnight, and it seems pointless to try and sleep for the night. We store our luggage in lockers at a train station, and go wandering round central Tokyo.

 

4am in Tokyo

 

Distance cycled 15th: 109km
Distance cycled 16th: 26km
Trip total: 1398km
Location: Shizunai – Chitose – Tokyo

We leave the campground with a tailwind behind us. It has been blowing steadily all night, so all our things are dry, and even our bike shoes don’t saturate our socks as soon as we put them on.

 

Cape Erimo

 

The coast road out to Cape Erimo gives us a windy tailwind, which gets windier and windier – by the time we reach the Cape it’s hard to stand. After a struggle we escape with our bikes and some photos, and cycle away down the other side of the Cape, into a crosswind. We lean into it to stay upright, and as it gusts we waver around all over the place, struggling to stay upright. Cars sensibly give us a wide berth, and after a few kilometres of this, the wind starts to ease off.

 

Cycling past tsunami warning signs all the way along the coast

 

We spend the rest of the day cycling through small fishing towns along the coast. Lots of gravel beds for kelp drying, and men stand in the surf with long poles with hooks on the end for grabbing kelp. Fishmermen with big square backpacks sit by the roadside waiting for the fisherman bus.

 

Natto! Supremely tasty fermented soy beans, with soy sauce and wasabi mustard stuff

 

It rains on and off all day, but never sets in, so we stay dry. I see a fox trotting across the road, and he stands to stare at me as I struggle up the hill towards him. It’s around this time that my fingers start hurting again. The prickly heat on the back of my fingers, acquired about two weeks ago, never really healed – now it’s forming enormous mega-blisters and swelling up so much that my fingers won’t bend.

Our camp that night has bear caution tape, and a huge group of drunken Japanese guys who are playing ball games and yelling. One comes to talk to me – I learn the Japanese word for drunk.

Distance cycled: 100km
Trip total: 1264km
Location: Cape Erimo – Shizunai Onsen

We wake up to the familiar plinking of rain on the tent. Oh dear. Well, today is a semi-rest day. Perhaps by the time we’ve finished sleeping in, it will go away? Eventually we tire of laying in the tents and retire to the picnic shelter, where things are gradually packed up.

A: What’s that alarm?
B: Oh great, a tsunami warning.

We aren’t swept away by a tsunami, and start cycling down the coast early in the afternoon. The Hiroo 7-11 provides us with warm nutritions, and we follow the angry sea through tunnels and past sea walls. The ocean seems to be trying to get us, and it rains on and off all afternoon – the views are beautiful though, so it doesn’t seem to matter so much.

 

The coast road

 

 

The coast road

 

As we draw towards Erimo though, suddenly there’s a patch of blue sky ahead. And the sun shines on us! And we have a strong tail wind! And then the campground is open and has hot showers AND a laundry! And there’s a wonderful sunset over the ocean and the hills rising up on the other side. The wind roars through the trees as we curl up clean and dry for a good nights sleep.

 

The weather begins to clear

 

Distance cycled: 43km
Trip total: 1164km
Location: Hiroo – Cape Erimo