Driven by the wind
I expected rain. After all, England had to live up to its reputation. But I got my sterling pound for it! Daily rain, winds of 100 km / h, hail… but above all fabulous landscapes, pleasant roads and respectful and endearing people. I can hardly believe that my number 1 country is already more than a week and a half behind me.
Nick, and his “experienced” group of cyclists.
After spending a few days in Bristol, about 200 km west of London, I left on the morning of Thursday March 24 for this incredible adventure of a lifetime. Nick, my ex-father-in-law who I adore, even extended an invitation to his friends from his local cycling group to cycle with me in the morning to Bath. Taking turns at my side, they asked me questions about my equipment, my itinerary, my motivations. And they shared with me their travel and life experiences at the same time. I couldn't have had a better start.
After a mandatory stop for tea, I left alone, heading south towards the English Channel. Despite the weight of the bike, the kilometers add up over the days. I visit Stonehenge on my second day and meet two happy German tourists. They are also the first people on the trip in whom I will notice surprise and disbelief in a conversation that usually begins like this:
- Are you going with your bike?
- In Vietnam.
- QWAT?!?
Selina and Isabell, in Stonehenge.
My tent was pretty happy behind this secluded church in East Grimstead.
England is made for cycling. Many roads are very lightly used, and cars leave plenty of room for cyclists, even if it means patiently waiting for the right moment to overtake. And best of all, each village has a secluded church that looks perfect to hide my tent. I wonder how I ever paid for camping!
I say that, and in fact, I stayed one evening in an official paying campsite because I couldn't find a field before dark. Ian, the manager of Chichester Camping and Caravanning Club was afraid to let me sleep in my tent because of the forecast winds for the night. So I used their laundry room as an apartment. And a chance! The next day, I see that the 100 km / h winds have torn everything in their path, forcing me to go around complete trees that have been broken or uprooted.
Ian and Julie, at the Camping and Caravanning Club.
That day, with a good tail wind, I did my best daily distance, 85 km, to take the ferry between Newhaven and Dieppe, in France. I make myself believe that it is hotter and drier in France, and that by taking a ferry at night, I will be able to sleep, and to leave on the other side for a good day ...
It was more like a night of 2 hours on the right benches, and a rather quick arrival in Dieppe (I had not thought about the change of time!).
At 4 a.m., Alex and Marcus, two British freaks doing London-Paris-London by bike, and I get off the boat to hang up in the terminal. We all wear our clothes and shiver anyway! At 6 a.m., the terminal closes and we have to pedal a bit to a cafe in the city center, from which we will leave around 7:30 a.m. But the rest being in France, that's another story!
Alex and Marcus, in Dieppe. It's not hotter in France!
All the bicycles of the boat in the same place, that is to say 3!
This first country allowed me to learn a lot about the daily gestures of a solo cycling trip. Thanks to these human encounters, the superb landscapes, the ease of riding, the history ubiquitous on every street corner, I have fond memories of this rapid five-day hike in England. Would happily go back to explore it more in depth, but maybe in July next time!
