Saturday, December 6, 2014
5 December 2014 - Chelmsford to London
The day looked very promising. As I went to breakfast at the ‘Rothman’s 17th century downstairs parlour, the weather ‘app’ was telling me that it would be cloudy at worst and sunny at best as I made my way to London during the day. I was packed and on the bike by 8:50am, taking the Galleywood Road which started just a few hundred meters from ‘Rothmans’, which I noticed when I walked up there last night for dinner. The Galleywood Road was basically the old ‘London’ Road which pleasantly took me out of Great Baddow and through some rural landscape for several kilometers.
The road eventually met the B1002 at Margetting, and I basically stayed on this road or whatever it became the closer I got to London. While that sounds easy, there were many places where I had either lost it, when going through towns for example, or when it came into large round-a-bouts and other highways and signs were pointing motorists in a multiple of directions. My road cut over the A12 and then back again, heading through Ingateston and Mountnessing, all the time descending into Brentwood. It was at Brentwood that I lost the B1002 due to bad signage and multiple options of street corners. I had to stop and ask twice before getting underway again.
The B1002 had now become the A1023 out of Brentwood, and was soon to join up with the A12 for a short stint, which I wasn’t looking forward to. However, just out of Brentwood, the A12 and A1023 met the M25 in a massive round-a-bout that had roads in all directions. I took the wrong exit and couldn’t believe it – I ended up on the M25, the only series of Motorway in Britain where cyclists are forbidden. Some helpful motorists were telling me the obvious. My serious problem was what to do about it. I had gone at least 1k when I made the decision to turn around and ride back against the screaming traffic. I at least had a wide apron, but it didn’t feel like fun. The only real risk was going back down the ramp that was feeding the M25, without an apron!. Anyway, I made it!
I was now on the A12 to Harold Wood and took the A118 exit to Havering, and the world’s largest oblong round-a-bout with about 6 exits feeding traffic off to all points in Britain. Negotiating across lanes to miss the first few exits, I hammered my way into the traffic as if I was a car – it seems to get more respect that way, and came out the other side still on the A118 on my way to Ilford. At Ilford I saw Maccas, and needing a nature break, bought some coffee and sent a message to Julie to say I was surviving okay and would be at Tower Bridge by noon. It was currently about 11am. Sadly at Maccas I noticed that my rear tyre was soft again, and it wasn’t a great feeling. The sun had come out momentarily, but it was now feeling like rain was on the way.
I pumped the tyre hoping I might survive for a few more hours, but that wasn’t the case. I was closing on London, the A118 eventually becoming the A11 as it converged with other main roads on the centre of London. I must say the English have been very good with doing their best to make these roads safer for cyclists with a marked cycle path even if it shares the same lane with cars and buses. I had learned these past two days to cycle like a Londoner, to ride as if I was a car, join the throng and ride with confidence and a lot of bravado. It is not for everyone. It certainly keeps tension levels high and all senses on full alert.
I hit another square ‘round-a-bout’ at Newham/West Ham, and was surprised then to be cycling right down the centre of Mile End, which is the historic district which was the birthplace of The Salvation Army, beginning with a humble then Reverend William Booth who started a one man ministry in a park at Mile End Waste, which led to the start of the East End London Mission, and became so large as it spread out of the East End, to become the Christian Mission, and because he said it was no ‘Volunteer Army’, he crossed off ‘Volunteer’ and replaced it with ‘Salvation’.
I stopped at Lights in Mile End, to be delighted to be opposite the Blind Beggars Inn, outside of which William Booth preached many a time, and knew then that I was within 30 metres of Booth’s bust statue in what used to be Mile End Waste but which is a small strip of park preserved where Mile End waste used to be. I stopped for photos. Ironically, I was trying to take a ‘selfie’ with William Booth’s statue, and I dropped the iPhone and it went dead! I couldn’t believe it. I now had no phone, which was going to guide me through from Tower Bridge to Sunbury. The tyre was almost flat, but I worked on a plan of pumping it now every few kilometers!
Within minutes it seems, I was standing on Tower Bridge, now with only my pocket camera, taking the historic photo of the loaded bike and the Bridge. Tourists are nice. Several asked if they could take the photo with me in it. Another was so excited about my loaded bike, he was taking photos of me as I rode away across the famous bridge. I will never see them.
I was at the 56k mark. There was no easy way to get to Sunbury, which is beyond Hampton court on the south west outside the fringe of London. I simply turned right over the bridge, and knew that as long as I didn’t cross the Thames until Kingston on Thames, some 30k away, but kept it close on my right hand side, I could eventually find my way. I had noted the numbers of some of the key roads between the bridge and Kingston. To cut a very long story short, I managed to eventually pick up signs to Kingston, but in that 20-30k was some of the toughest traffic conditions, wet weather and major round-a-bouts of the last two days.
I became so frustrated re-pumping the bike more frequently now, that I pulled over on the footpath, unloaded everything, and changed the tube. It lost 15 minutes, but in the end was the best decision. It lasted all the way.
I ended up in Wimbledon Common on muddy tracks, but all the time closing on Kingston, with the Thames still on my right (although I never saw the Thames since Tower Bridge, and until I finally crossed the Bridge at Kingston on Thames).
It was with huge relief that by about 2:45pm, I rolled into the main street of Kingston, and judging by the signs, all I had to do was stay on the main road and it would take me over the bridge and on my way to Sunbury if I followed the same road.
It was great to stop on the bridge and take photos, knowing there was no more need to feel lost. I rolled off the bridge with still about 8k to go. Eventually I pulled up outside Hampton Court to ask a lady on a bike about Sunbury. She pointed in the almost opposite direction to where I was headed, she said that I was about to re-cross the Thames again! It is easy to confuse the roads!
Within 2k with my fresh directions, I turned the bike into Lower Sunbury Road, which ran along the Thames. It was a great joy, I must say, to eventually see the beautiful ‘Sunbury Court’, the mansion that was purchased over a hundred years ago (I must check this) but which has been a central place of honour in the life of The Salvation Army, the place where the world leaders gather for the election of the General, and now the place for the International College for Officers. It was also the place of Julie’s 2nd conference in 3 weeks.
I rolled up to the main gate. The voice of the smiling security guard said “Are you Major Julie’s husband, Major Kelvin? I replied ‘Yes mate, it certainly is’. “Welcome”, he said. “We’ve been waiting for you”!
With that, I rolled the bike in, parked it against the small pillar outside the historic Sunbury Court, and took the final official photo of the tour. I turned off the GPS at 87k for the day, probably the hardest days riding of all the tour, certainly the most traumatic.
The great tour that started with a thought, through three countries, four major rivers, countless cities, towns and villages, having met hundreds of lovely gracious strangers along the way, and endured very cold to freezing days all the way…..was now concluded.
There is something of an anti-climactic feeling when you come down so quickly from the high adrenalin of a day like I had just had, to knowing that this great adventure was now over and within a day I would be packed and on my way home.
Tonight I dined with some wonderful Salvation Army people from all over the world, all curious about my tales of what has been the greatest bike adventure of them all.
From my lovely warm room at Sunbury Court in London, with Julie I send our love. I will write a concluding note for the blog, but want to thank all those people who have sent encouraging messages, and followed the blog and/or the Facebook notes along the way. It is amazing how much difference that has made.
Friday, December 5, 2014
4 December 2014 - Harwich to Chelmsford
The night went far too quickly! The Premier Inn was a very decent Motel with a really lovely room and a very decent bed, almost too nice for a sweaty cyclist. The lady at the desk could not have been more helpful. The offer for me to take the bike to the room was amazing. The room was so nice that I was tempted to say that the bike should stay outside!
I was out of bed just after 6am. Breakfast opened at 6:30am, but I firstly had to go for a walk in the pre-dawn to the service station back down the road towards the ferry terminal. I was assured they would have a map for me to use to get myself to London. They certainly did, but the best one which was also the cheapest was a book with pages almost A3 size! I wanted a smaller one for the bike, but the small crowd that was now showing interest in my cause assured me that the large one was the best! I decided to take out the staples and the two pages only that I needed, and folded them. Perfect!
The breakfast was lovely, but I was pre-occupied with the plan for getting myself to Chelmsford by avoiding the one main road which was an ‘A’ level highway but was manic with trucks and traffic in general. I managed to work out a route, which was less direct but hopefully would keep me away from the traffic. The plan worked for only the first part of the morning.
Nervously I pushed away at 9am, which was really 10am Holland time. I had until 3:45pm for dusk, which was effectively an hour less to play with. I was expecting about 80k, which doesn’t sound much, but with the twists and turns of the country roads, I just wasn’t sure whether my map and notes I had made would be sufficient to help me through the maze of small roads, towns and hamlets along the way.
The day was dark and overcast, and it wasn’t long before it started to rain very lightly, which kept up all day. It was wispy rain, but the moisture level in the air was very high. The road was wet, and the puddles gathered. Cars had their wipers working all day.
The minor roads in Harwich were incredibly busy. The roads were narrow and single lane each way. Buses were taking kids to school, cars were busily about their daily business. I had no choice but to go with it, hoping that once I turned away onto the minor B1414, that it would all quiet down. The B road took me through the scenic village route, through such places as Little Oakley then Great Oakley. The traffic thinned, but the wet had set in. The GPS indicated that it was now 2C. It dropped to 1C for most of the day, but it lacked the biting arctic feeling of Rotterdam.
I enjoyed this part of the trip. The road was pleasantly quiet, passing through Stones Green, Tendering Green and heading for Little Bentley. Coincidentally I was following the British cycle Path 25, which was well signed and which gave me a lot more confidence than my hand drawn map based on the printed map I had purchased.
It took me to Little Bentley to finally work out that the distance signs were in ‘miles’ not kilometers. I had seen the sign to Colchester and was rather excited that it was so close until I realized it was in miles! It wasn’t so close after all. Not far after Little Bentley I seemed to have run out of minor roads, and ended up on the A133 all the way to Colchester.
It was now very wet and fairly cold. The traffic was fast and the road was now really busy, but only single lane each way and no apron! I wrestled this all the way to Colchester, which seemed longer given I had my heart in my throat most of the way! Busy is bad enough, but wet and busy is a real challenge.
Colchester is a large city, the ‘Oldest Recorded Town in England’. It was a headache to maneuver my way through, the large round-a-bouts, the river crossing, and the narrow roads and minimal signs. To add to this, I suffered a flat tyre as I passed through this large, busy place. Murphy’s law for touring cyclists declares that only the rear tyre goes flat! It means unloading everything, and removing the wheel with the complication of the chain and the gearing. It was efficiently done however, and I was soon on my way again.
I had to be really careful to get the right road out of Colchester, the B1022 that then ran all the way to Maldon, before turning west to run into Chelmsford. All the way I was on the same kind of road that I came into Colchester – single lane, no apron, and just constant speeding traffic whizzing past me for the almost 50k from Colchester to Chelmsford.
I had to keep stopping to clear my glasses, but otherwise was really hammering the bike along. The roads were no longer flat like Holland. All morning I was cruising strongly, but by midday my tyre was slowly deflating again and I suspect this was now making the work on the bike all that much harder. I was sure I cleared the tyre of any glass or sharp thing, but obviously not.
It was however a great relief to finally run into Chelmsford, and with little difficulty finding my way to 22 High Street Great Baddow, the 17th Century Manor Home ‘Rothmans’. I turned the GPS off at 75k. It was not quite 2pm. I was drenched. The bike was washed by the very wet roads all day. I was glad to finally get off the roads, but still happy in spirit. The tyre was soft, and within no time it was flat. I didn’t have the heart to fix it immediately. I was too intent on a warm shower! I fixed it later, and it held overnight, but it caused more strife on the way to London
The day was a hard day of cycling. It was in fact a great workout, but not everyone’s ‘cup of tea’. The constant traffic, the continuous wet conditions, and the intense cold is not for the faint hearted! The average for the day was 20.6kph, the highest for the whole journey from Frankfurt which is commendable considering the conditions.
No one was home at ‘Rothmans’. I had the code to the door, and let myself in, making my way to the upstairs ‘Regency Room’, a large room beautifully furnished in period furniture, with my own little bathroom. The room was warm, and welcome I must say. I have my own tea making facilities, with complimentary chocolates and free access to the breakfast room fridge. A home away from home!
I feel overwhelmed a little about tomorrow, my final run to London. It is only about 60k to Tower Bridge, but the roads on the map are so blurred together that it is hard to know how I am going to manage it. At least the weather looks to be clearing, and I may have sun to arrive to at Sunbury Court on the Thames River just west of Twickenham. Once I get to Tower Bridge, it could be another 20-30k to Sunbury. A big day ahead.
From my very lovely historic 17th Century Regency Room in the Rothman’s Manor Home, I send my love.
Wednesday, December 3, 2014
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