Category Archives: UK

Right south & well north

With a perfectly timed transfer from Southampton Central to the fast ferry terminal on a free bus, I got a ticket & boarded the fast ferry to Cowes with not a moment to spare. It worked out even better, as the ferry landed just as Ben was getting home from work & was able to walk down to the terminal & show me the short route to their house. The centre of Cowes is a cute little village with cobbled twisty streets, a fair percentage of sailing & boutique shops & their flat is only about fifty metres walk off the main street – fantastic location. I had however missed the chaos of Cowes Week a week or so before – when the place is one big sailing festival.

Gina had to work a little late, so we were charged with tea. Of course a scaled down version of one of the many Wellington St barbecues was in order. Scaled down because it was a very small charcoal burner & we were a little short of charcoal – with only three more weeks left in the country for Ben & Gina, there was little point of getting more. A short walk (1oo metres) to the supermarket topped us with essentials – Ben was particularly pleased at getting the small keg of Heineken that he had his eye on for a while. Eventually we were able to pour a glass of beer that wasn’t all head! The rest of the night was spent eating & catching up & sharing travel stories – I was even more surprised to find a second group of people to sit through the best of my American photos in less than a week.

After a fitful night’s sleep in the attic (no curtains & a pub just over the road & springs that felt they were coming out of the mattress to make the acquaintance of innards), I was happy to doze until much too late & got up well after Ben & Gina had gone off to work. What remained of my morning I strolled around Cowes & some surrounding areas & enjoyed the sunshine. After a bit for a late lunch I took the chain ferry across the river to East Cowes. One of five left in Britain it drags itself the hundred-odd metres back & forth the river all day on two rather large chains.

Also called a floating bridge, it was free for pedestrians & after the very short voyage I was off walking up the hill to visit Osborne House. Osborne house was built by Victoria & Albert & was a favourite residence of theirs to spend time in with their family & away from the public eye. The tour of the house was extensive (no photos inside unfortunately) – as well as the state apartments & the family’s living area, I found the table dresser’s room in the basement interesting. This is where the elaborate table settings were designed & made. I had wondered why we never saw the kitchen – Gina told me later that Victoria did not like food being cooked in the house (to do with the smell I think), so it was all done in a building not far away from the house.

The grounds & gardens were extensive & I enjoyed the remainder of the afternoon strolling around these & checking out the old ice store & the little fort that Albert had made for his children. I arrived home just after Ben & Gina had got home – it was soon off to a pub for dinner & then an early night as we were off to Cornwall early the next morning. We had a 4.30 sailing to Lymington, so the alarm was due to go off at 3.30 (it is a little drive through small IOW streets to Yarmouth).

So, up early & fed – it was off to catch an uneventful ferry (who wants eventful at half past four in the morning) to Lymington & Ben heroically drove us all the way to Cornwall & the Eden Project. I dozed a little in the back & was pleased when we got past all the caravans & arrived by nine o’clock. The Eden Project, with its two big Biomes (biological domes I assume) was quite interesting.

The bigger of the biomes was plants & climate of rainforest from around the world – thankfully it wasn’t too hot & only slightly humid. The smaller of the biomes was dedicated to plants from Mediterranean-like climates – the Mediterranean obviously, California & South Africa spring to mind. I’m not much of a horticulurist, but it was all pretty interesting – the stand out being the plant that curled its leaves up or drooped its stalks the instant you touched it, we spent quite awhile prodding it just to see it curl up in defence. Gina was quite disappointed that she could not buy one to take home to NZ.

In another building they had some big contraptions (overly complicated machines) made from all sorts of used steel products that went through a very elaborate process to crush hazelnuts – a bit like a machine you would expect to find in Wallace & Gromit.

Also in this building was a massive sculpture of a pine cone made out of a huge piece of Cornwall stone.

We were pleased to have missed most of the crowds & left slightly after noon to try & find somewhere to stay the night. One of Ben’s workmates had recommended Fowey as a nice little place. So we headed off there & parked well above the centre of town as we had to walk down a steep hill down some very narrow twisty streets (one way only & no parking). It turned out that a week long regatta was starting the next day & consequently, the town was packed. Somehow we managed to find beds for the night – so we climbed up the hill again & I think we passed a bit of the afternoon napping after the early start. Much of the rest of the day was spent walking around the town, sitting next to the harbour, eating & drinking – early night for all.

Sunday afforded us a nice sleep in – almost five hours on the previous day – & a large English breakfast to get us going (or slow us down). We were particularly impressed by all the local produce in the breakfast (all from less than ten miles away) – the mushrooms were easily the best I have had in a long time. We had to make our way back to Southampton by 7pm for Ben & Gina to catch a ferry back to IOW & me to train back up to London. I’m not sure how we settled on where to go for a walk, but we were keen to get out & stretch our legs (Ben & Gina need all the leg-stretching they can get – they are shortly off to Macchu Picchu) & headed off to Castle Drogo in Dartmoor National Park. Along the way we passed dozens & dozens of caravans & became proficient at identifying each make & model from a distance. The English also seem to like buying small cars & then realising they don’t have enough space for fitting everything in, so buy poxy little box trailers that have wheels the size of dinner plates & tow them along – it looks ridiculous. Although, kudos to the slightly large ones with bikes on top.

Arriving at Castle Drogo, we decided not to fork out the entry fee as Ben & Gina had seen too many castles already, & it was only built in the early twentieth century & didn’t look all that impressive. Instead we walked down Teign Gorge for a couple of miles admiring the view & getting to Fingle Bridge – a nice skinny bridge (we saw a Corolla find that it was much too skinny & leave a deposit of red paint on the walls of the bridge) & river & an inn & nothing much else apart from walkers & those out for Sunday lunch.

Completing a loop of a extra mile or so, we walked along beside the river for a while & then climbed out of the valley & back to the car to head off to Southampton. Along the way Gina managed to tick Devonshire tea & scones off her list as we stopped at a small B&B serving such wonderful homemade delights. Yum.

Got back in time for a earlier ferry for Ben & Gina; I missed a train by about twenty seconds & had to wait another half an hour, but I was home in Sidcup before 8.30, so that was good. The rest of that night & the next morning was spent organising enough clean clothes & good clothes for a funeral & two or three weeks in Edinburgh.

More trains in to London, across London & up to Retford, I was met by Mum’s only maternal cousin Tony & we were back to his house to prepare for his father’s funeral. Although not the best occasion for it, it was great to catch up with family – somehow I think I became a Spurs supporter (family allegiance & all that). Thankfully, I’m not much of an expert on funerals, but I think it went OK. I was surprised to see the limo we rode in was a big stretched Aussie LTD sedan & the hearse was a flashed up Falcon with a lot of glass & higher ceiling.

Tuesday afternoon saw me on another train – now I’m in Edinburgh & it’s nice to be back & especially during the festival – the weather is much as I remember it for summer, mostly cloudy & drizzling, with patches of sun. I haven’t quite worked out why (unsure if it’s just the festival time) but there is so much trash around on the street – I’m not sure I’ve seen anything like it outside of Asia. They seem to have small wheeled skips on the residential streets for depositing household trash & recycling in – only problem is they must get overfilled, as a lot of it is on the ground. I’m staying with a guy that Mum used to nanny a fair few years ago. Thomas has a flat about twenty minutes walk from the centre of everything, so it’s really convenient. Haven’t done too much, just getting settled & have seen a couple of street shows – & finally saw the Half-Blood Prince (where were you Elizabeth?), it was OK – mostly a lot of development, like the book really.

A curious anomaly in NZ English – we say ‘route’ as the English do, pronounced ‘root’; yet we say ‘router’ (as in a networking device) as Americans do, pronounced ‘rowt-er’, but laugh at them for pronouncing ‘route’ as ‘rowt’. I’m not sure if that makes sense or not, but I thought it amusing. While I’m on differences, it’s pleasing to be in a country where there are lights installed in ceilings in living areas & you don’t have to rely on lamps; also, I’m back in a country where switches (lights, power etc) are off at the top & on at the bottom – I never really worked out why the Americans would do this the opposite way around – units & driving I can understand, but this just seems so contary to every way I’ve ever know. It’s also nice having pound coins & no dollar bills.

London & off south

Another day, another train & a chance to catch up on the last week’s happenings since arriving in London. Have just come in to Waterloo to catch a train down to Southampton – the National Rail trains sure are a lot more pleasant than the tube, & so they should be. I am going down to the Isle of Wight to catch up with Ben & Gina (former Pukekohe flatmates) before they head off back to NZ (after two years, I think, here) via South America. I think we will be heading to Cornwall to check out the Eden Project.

A nice relaxing day at Andrew & Shelley’s on Friday, where we traded a few media files (so now I have old Seinfeld to watch when desired), I put my bike together (hopefully the last time for a while), discovered my first bike-in-plane damage (cracked helmet, grrrr), went to Sainsbury’s, repacked all my stuff & prepared for the cross-London trek on Saturday. My destination on Saturday was Mum’s cousin’s, Trish, house in Sidcup – down towards Kent. The Patricks kindly let me store the stuff I didn’t need immediately in the attic & I was off to London Bridge on the tube with my bike & rather full Macpac. One small hitch was I couldn’t take my bike down the escalator on to the Northern line, so had to bike a couple of stations (Moorgate to London Bridge). It took a little getting used to carrying a full pack on a softtail in traffic (they drive on the left hand side here, time to get reused to that), but it was easy to find my way & I really felt like I was in London (except the weather was nice) with the skinny streets, black cabs, double-decker buses, old stone buildings & so on. Even got to ride across London Bridge before getting to the station, hopping on a train, biking the mile or so to Trish’s house & arriving at about the time I had guessed.

Great to catch up with family (Mum & I had visited last year) & later in the afternoon Trish’s sister Jan called in after visiting their mother (my great-aunt, I think – I will have to get up to speed on genealogical titles with all the distant relatives in this country) close by. After a catch up, I was pleased to have a willing audience for the best of my photos from the States. Much of the rest of the weekend was spent unpacking & sorting & a few small walks. Managed to get a 500GB hard drive to back up my laptop & Sunday afternoon Trish took me to check out the nearby Biggin Hill – a famous Battle of Britain airfield – nice to see a NZ flag & some names of those Kiwis who had served there.

Monday I was itching to get on the bike – even if it was on tarmac & not singletrack. I rode northeast (got a new sim card for my rather aged, but still working, NZ Nokia) until I was about to ride in to the Thames & then I followed the cycle & footpath all the way to Greenwich.

Most of the way it was light industrial stuff & pretty grotty as one would expect. There was a big civil & marine project going on – a power plant that will incinerate solid waste barged down from the city.

Next door was a huge waste water treatment plant (that accordingly stunk – it was just like being on that Environmental Engineering field trip all over again, except I didn’t eat as much) & another power plant where they burn the left over solid waste.

Cycled past the Millennium Dome/O2 arena that looked pretty disgusting really, the grounds had really been let go – but I suppose people don’t go there to look at the outside. When I eventually reached Greenwich, it was much I remembered – I had a little ride around but due to riding shoes & sweat, didn’t feel like going in the Maritime Museum (missed it last year). Did however find the burger shop that Cabby & I went to last year – ordered a massive Kiwi Burger. If McDonald’s sold Kiwiburgers like this in NZ, the country would be even fatter. It was gargantuan – a huge Scotch fillet & all the standard Kiwi fare on burgers: lettuce, tomato, beetroot, cheese, egg, onion & pineapple – & almost got the better of me. Unwisely, it was straight back on the bike for the (more) direct route back home; somewhere on the A205 I picked up the London Cycle Network & followed that home. It was very well signposted & took me off the main roads; nice to be home after twenty-eight miles of stretching the legs.

My first attempt at dealing with British bureaucracy was my appointment at Barclays on Tuesday to open a bank account. It didn’t get off to a great start when I arrived at the Hammersmith branch well early & found that it was closed for the week for refurbishment. The much maligned British customer service looked to be well deserved as no one had bothered to tell me. Anywho, I went off to the branch at Shepherd’s Bush (the only thing I knew of this place was that it featured in the Only Fools & Horses song) & was very well looked after & happy to be impressed by the guy who set it all up for me. With a bit of time to kill before my next appointment I had got a rather brutal, but good haircut, from a Hungarian girl whose own haircut looked like it fell out of the sixties & took over her head. A few more tube rides (got good value from my day travel card, sixteen stations & eight lines – & a bus ride) to get up north to meet a NZ friend for a bit of a tune up for my back (we met when he was completing chiro college). Great to catch up & share travel stories (Andrew is London for a short while between months in SE Asia & a year in South America). Popped in to Covent Garden to visit a coffee shop of one of his friends, which was so small we had to share a booth with a Asian couple) & then a cider with another Kiwi. We were all off to meet some more friends before they went on to salsa lessons & I went to pick up my remaining bag from the Patricks. Who should rock up but Hayden – a family friend who was a year ahead of me at school, who I think came to my first birthday & our parents go way back. Quite amusing, as I don’t think I’ve seen Hayden for at least six years, maybe eight or nine. A late night home after dragging my bike bag across the city.

I seem to have got my sleep-ins back to nine o’clock (it’s hard) & what was left of Wednesday morning was spent booking train tickets – this trip to Southampton, Monday’s ride north to Mum’s only maternal uncle’s funeral & then Tuesday on to Edinburgh for the festival & hopefully tattoo. And also investigating a bit of a jaunt over to Paris mid to late-September. In the afternoon Trish & I took a bit of a trip out in to the Kentish countryside to Eyrsford for a stroll. There was a great old viaduct,

the rain held off, quite a few horse that had covers over much of the head (which from a distance look like it blindfolded them – but didn’t – can anyone tell me why?), & a big old manor house that tried to pass itself off as a castle (it had a big gatehouse, but that was about all). On the return to the car we went up a side road & climbed a decent hill to Eagle Heights, where we were just in time to see the bird of prey showing. They had all sorts there – eagles, vultures, falcons & the show was quite good with a lot of swooping just over head height of the audience.

Their collection of other animals – cheetahs, camels, Siberian & normal huskies, storks (which are not at all good looking – why would one want a baby to come carried by these?)

– was good, but I couldn’t quite work out how they fitted in to the birds of prey theme. The owls

& eagles on display were very impressive – the Bald American eagle made a lot of noise, but I suppose that could be expected.

Not much more to say, perhaps I’ll look at the countryside whizz by for the last twenty odd minutes of this trip – oh, nice email from Southern Cross Travel Insurance, they are going to pay out for my very expensive & next to useless hospital visit. Woohoo – I might be very boring & pay off the rest of my student loan.

Sun, ships & seaside

From Taunton I returned to pick up Mum & we were off to Portsmouth on a hot (for England) day. A brief stop at Salisbury for lunch (outside yet another cathedral) & we eventually made it to our hotel in Portsmouth. After settling in it was off down to the historic dockyards for a quick look – managed most of the Mary Rose museum. Quite amazing some of the stuff that was preserved for so long down there – all sorts of things: weapons, doctor’s supplies, shoes, kitchen equipment & so on. Saw Portsmouth Cathedral (another one), a Nelson monument (another one) before trying to drive around & find somewhere to have dinner. Not without some difficulty finally found a nice Turkish restaurant – concluded apart from the Historic Dockyards, there isn’t really much to Portsmouth.

Back to the dockyard the next morning with a great look around the Victory (still can’t imagine the chaos it must have been fighting on those ships) , saw the remains of the Mary Rose with the waxy solution being sprayed all over it – when this has penetrated all the way in to the wood they will start drying it out properly (over twenty years since it was raised). Because there was a Royal Navy “Meet Your Navy” few days starting the day after we were there, the hour long cruise around the harbour was very interesting with many naval ships in – highlights were two aircraft carriers, three Japanese frigates & some other mammoth-sized ships (slightly bigger than a mammoth then) that I don’t really remember exact descriptions for.

Out of Portsmouth before rush hour (if they have one) & on towards Mum’s second (I think) cousins who live in a small village south of Southampton. Another warm welcome – was interesting to see an armchair-bed, I have seen plenty of sofa-beds before, but never a single armchair-bed – still it was comfortable. A brief look around the original Christchurch on Friday morning & then the half hour Lymington-Yarmouth to visit my previous Pukekohe flatmates, Ben & Gina, on the Isle of Wight.

The double-decker bus ride to Newport (where Ben & Gina live) was great, as I was at the front up the top & as we careened down these narrow back country walled lanes we hit a great number of overhanging trees. Dragged my small amount of gear (pleasant to be travelling without a bike some of the time) to the top of Ben & Gina’s shared house. As Gina works with maps at the Isle of Wight council she had considerately pinned a map of all the pubs on the island on the wall – we crossed three of the 150-odd off during the day I was there. Also got the big island tour (still can’t believe there was a chairlift down to the beach), saw The Needles, lots of pleasure boats (c.f. with most of England), watched a few cruise ships go out at high tide, visited Carisbrooke Castle (at least I will remember it this time – I still have the pencil case from 21 years ago) & generally enjoyed the warm weather. Up much too early to get back to Hordle & pick Mum up for the dash up to Kent for a family reunion of sorts. There I got to meet all Mum’s cousins on her father’s side – I don’t think they had been all together for quite some years. Of course, I didn’t remember any of the ones I had met before. That was pretty neat, if a little strange – getting to know all these people that are quite close, but not (no we are not Irish).

Unfortunately, the following day was my last in the UK. Mum & her cousin Trish headed off to the Imperial War Museum to do some genealogy research in to both of Mum’s grandfathers in WWI, while I gave my bike & shoes a thorough cleaning for the inevitable MAF fine tooth comb inspection back home & was entertained with stories of spying in Egypt for the British after WWII by Fred. Managed to get back to Heathrow on the M25 in about an hour – which I thought was ok from Sidcup & Junction 3, the Passat was gone & I embarked on the long trip home & back to work. To borrow from Captain Darling – simply says, “Bugger”.

The longest ride for a while, for me

The ride John & Richard took me on may have been the biggest that I had been on since N-Duro 1 almost two months ago – but it was nothing compared to what John (crazy guy that he is) completed a few days later. That is, 300 km+ solo during a 24 hour event – and to top it off on a singlespeed. It makes me tired just thinking about it – or perhaps that is just recovering from the first shift set starting the day after I got back. Either way, I can’t quite face sorting over a thousand photos from the last six weeks in to some sort of highlight package that some one may be able to view some day with out getting completely bored. I’d much rather think about great rides in far off (& warmer) places…

Arriving in Taunton, it was pleasing to see Anna home & not off at work (almost everytime I visited in Mt Maunganui I was left wondering if John actually did have a wife or was just making it up – as Anna always seemed to be at work). Although that didn’t last for long as Anna was soon off for her week of night shifts at the hospital – John & I took off for the a look around the Quantrocks (some hills close by). After following a car with a very flat tyre up the steep road, we discovered our first mistake as three mountain bikers tore past us down a hill – there was still plenty of light at 8.30 & we should have brought our bikes. Instead we wandered around looking across to Wales, finding previously ridden singletrack & John remarking how much faster it was on a bike – oh well, there was always tomorrow. We had to get back home to meet Richard (who I met last year when he came out to visit John in NZ) who was driving down from near Oxford for tomorrow’s ride. There we discovered our second mistake, we didn’t have house keys – off John went to the hospital while Richard & I unloaded & put our bikes together on the side of the street. To set the mountain-biking tone we watched The Collective’s Seasons – great. I think I like mountain biking movies more when there is a small chance I could see myself riding the same trails without certain death being involved somewhere. Obviously, my life is just not all about big air.

A reasonably undisturbed sleep (except waking up at about 5.00 thinking I was at the beach thanks to the loud but geographically challenged seagulls – we were no where near the beach) & another cooked breakfast later, we were off to Minehead & Exmoor National Park. A little bit of road riding through the seaside town took us the quaint little village of Dunster; from there we were on to bridleways (quite steep climb to start with) and then riding along the top of a ridge. As John & Richard pointed out where we were going, I couldn’t help thinking that it was an awful long way off & much further than I had ridden for a while. Just as well that the weather was a lot better than what they described last time – consequently, the icebreaker came off fairly early & the jacket stayed firmly (metaphorically speaking, that it could work its way out is never far from my mind) on the Camelbak. It sure is fun riding in different places – contrasting with my normal NZ riding, I could see a lot further, it was generally rockier & more attention was paid to wear the front wheel was going between those rocks.

After a bit of ridge riding, it was down to the small village of Wootton Courtenay via a nice long chute that was filled with rocks & at these nice big corners that were naturally bermed. The rocks reminded me a bit of the 6 km downhill I went down in Pokhara, Nepal – only this time I was hoping that I wasn’t going to go over the bars & split my chin open near the bottom. While I managed to avoid the endover, I did puncture a hundred metres from the end (it’s always strangely satisfying to have a mechanical problem at the end of a sweet bit of track, as opposed to the start). This was a good spot for lunch & the necessary tube replacement.

Crossing through the village it was back to the bridleway, up on top of another ridge, along the ridge & we got to a point where the guys weren’t sure which was the best way down. Thankfully, they chose a sweet descent & all smiles, we arrived at the turnaround point – Porlock (although the return was slightly more direct). It was off down some sealed lanes for a while to Bossington Green (nice steep climb here). On the way we had a photo stop as it looked English.

After John made us ride through that stream for the photos, I had great delight in riding up behind much too fast & soaking him – of course, I had rather wet socks too, but it was worth it. Especially considering how far behind I was up the next hill. Just as well riding back along the moors towards Minehead there was one nice long fast downhill. And that was about the ride. Back to Taunton, where Andy (who I also met & rode with when he was out visiting & touring NZ last year) turned up for dinner (well cooked by John) & we settled down to watch Seasons again – I think I enjoyed it more that time, possibly because I’d just been out for a great ride.