Before setting off on this trip, my father said that he thought this would be my swansong, my last trip of this kind. He was right, in a way. I don’t expect to do any more long solo trips, although that doesn’t mean my travelling days are over.
A couple of years ago, I wondered if I would be able to settle down, and do the house/dog/white picket fence thing. Well, it wasn’t to be – I couldn’t settle down at first.
How things have changed – most of those elements are now in place, and I expect to stay in the same city for at least the next three years. It doesn’t mean that I won’t be doing any more trips like this ever again, it just means they will be shorter trips over the next few years, and probably closer to home. I still want to ride across the USA, but it can wait a while. It will still be there in 3 years, it’s not going anywhere (no matter what the radicals might say). It will be a slightly different place then of course, but that’s neither here nor there.
And you know what? I’m happy about being home. More than that, I’m ready to be home, and settle for a while. If I hadn’t done this last leg, I would have wondered about it, wondered if I was doing the right thing in staying at home. It was probably a good thing that I chose Patagonia for this trip – because to be completely honest, I didn’t really enjoy it. Could have been a different story if I’d been back in China. Would I have wanted to come home from that?
I have thoroughly enjoyed riding around the UK though. It can be an underrated place, but if you’ve got the money, it’s a great place to ride around. Probably just as well I added this onto the end of the Patagonian trip, because it gave me quite a boost. It’s also one of the few places you can spend hours riding every day, and still gain weight, from all the beer and stodgy food.
Jan also pointed out one good thing about having completed my RTW circuit – I can now go anywhere, I’m not constrained by having to complete the loop – instead I can choose destinations on the basis of interest, not geography. We’ll see.
I have to admit to being a bit negative about stopping off in Singapore on the way back home. I can’t really remember why I decided to stop here, since I find Hong Kong more interesting. For some reason I decided to stop in Singapore for five nights on the way home, although later I changed this to 3 days.
But when I arrived here, I started to recall why I like travelling in Asia, and why I find Asian cities so much more interesting than Chilean or Argentinian ones. As soon as I saw people squatting down to rest, I felt like I was getting back into it. Other classic sights too, like the old Chinese man with skinny arms and legs, but a big belly, which he is trying to pull his pants right up over. You can see him thinking to himself “Yep, that’s just about done it, I reckon one more firm tug and I should be able to get my belt up to my nipples.” He seems to be a security guard of some description, but he’s about as effective as the guards Jeremy Clarkson is referring to here. The humidity hits you like a wall, but it feels like a comforting blanket to me. The food stalls everywhere are one of my favourite parts too – especially here, where there is such a variety.
Singapore does have a couple of unique bits – e.g. people will just do things to be helpful, or because it’s their job, and not expect a tip. At the airport, I needed to get down a couple of levels of travelator to the left-luggage office, to deposit my bike. Due to construction, the lift was very slow and busy, but I was initially told I couldn’t take my bike on the travelator. So the lift attendant pushed my luggage trolley all the way, chatting pleasantly as we went along, but didn’t even hang around to let me tip him, as I was about to do.
There is one thing that causes me problems in Singapore though, and that’s bedbugs. Last time I was here I got bitten, and within minutes of lying on the bed this time I had bites. Must be at least one hundred bites on my back. Little bastards can’t just take one bite and feed – I think they keep moving along, searching for a vein. It was a pretty crappy hotel, so I decided to splash out – Wotif.com had a fantastic deal for a 5-star hotel, for a very reasonable price for Singapore. So, for my very last night in a hotel on this trip, I’m staying in rather nice surroundings. Will have to checkout at 11:59am tomorrow, make the most of my time.
And then it’s home, time to sort out my gear, wrap up the trip, and settle down again. Will do a couple more posts over the next few days.
One more thing – my last residence in England, “Slatters of Downley” was once again superb. I must write it up on TripAdvisor.com. Special mention of the Danish food, and the provision of a bike box, and transport to Heathrow. Saved me a fair bit of hassle there.
I’ve crossed deserts. I crossed mountain passes. Hell, I’ve crossed continents. I’ve dragged the bike through bush to cross borders. I’ve dealt with wind, snow, rain, temperatures below zero, temperatures above forty. I’ve travelled along lonely isolated roads, sometimes over 200km between towns. I’ve also negotiated some of the busiest roads, in the biggest cities, with the worst drivers.
But yesterday I met my match: The Tay Bridge:
The Tay Road Bridge, in better weather
34,903km of riding around the world, and I was at the end of the line – Dundee. This was the planned end of my trip in the UK, from here I would get a train back to London, and fly home. The weather was shocking when I woke up, high winds, rain, snow, freezing temperatures. The wind was coming directly from the direction I wanted to go in. The only good point was that the snow wasn’t settling, so the roads weren’t icy. Normally I would have gone back to bed, but I needed to reach Dundee that night, to see some friends, and to get on the train I had booked for the next day.
So I struggled along, wearing pretty much the entire sum of my cycling wardrobe, some items coming out for the first time on this leg of the trip. In London I had purchased some new full finger gloves, since my old ones weren’t waterproof. The new ones were supposed to be windproof and waterproof, from a respected brand. Well, whoever put that on the label should be forced to go and do a ride like I did yesterday. A couple of times I had to stop, pull off the gloves, stick my fingers under my arms, try and warm them up, jumping up and down to distract myself from the pain of thawing fingers. Wouldn’t have been so bad if they had stayed numb, it’s when they keep switching between numb and thawing that it hurts.
Some roads were closed, so I had to wind about a bit, to get to the Tay Bridge. Finally I could see Dundee, see my destination. Rolled up to the roundabout just before the bridge, followed the signs for cyclists, around the path, through the carpark, and up to the special footbridge. There was a warning sign up, “Pedestrian and cyclist access will be closed if wind gusts exceed 60mph.” Should be fine then, gusts weren’t over 50 I thought. Rolled around the corner, onto the ramp up to the dedicated pedestrian/cyclist lane down the middle of the bridge…and the gate was shut. Foiled at the last. I could see Dundee, I just couldn’t get there.
Hmmm. What to do? First I went back to the kiosk, for some hot food and a drink. I was just warm enough when riding, but when I stopped, things got cold in a hurry, teeth chattering, near-uncontrollable shivering. Couldn’t stick around there forever. Hung around for a little while, in case there was any sign of the gate opening, or perhaps a friendly truck driver heading over the bridge. Nothing doing. Aha! I could see if I could get hold of Craig, see if he can come and get me.
So went to the nearby village, tried ringing Directory for the number for Bright Solid. No, no listing for that. OK, let’s try Scotland Online, the old name. Ah yes, we have a listing for that, but it’s ex-directory. Eh? But they’re a business that wants people to call them. Try another tack – go to the local Post Office, ask to borrow a phone book. Ah well, this is still Fife, so we only have an old copy of the Dundee phone book. No problem at all – we just need to look up Scotland Online. They had the phone number, it worked, and Craig was able to do me a great favour, and pick me up, and get me over the bridge to Dundee.
Was very nice to be inside a warm car, then inside the office, warming up and chatting to people. Had a nice night out in Dundee, good to catch up with Craig again – it’s been a while since I’ve been up to Dundee. Had changed a bit, they seemed to be building a whole lot of decent-looking student accommodation. Looked far better than what I think is appropriate for students, but I guess they don’t want to live in rat-infested tenements anymore.
A bit of fun with the trains this morning – because of the bad weather, East Coast trains have been cancelled. I thought I was all sorted, with a direct train from Dundee to London Kings Cross, bike reservation made. But my train was cancelled. Shit. The lovely woman at the ticket counter was able to help me though, getting me new tickets, and bike reservation to go across to Glasgow, and come down the West Coast. Will only end up being an hour later into London. Only problem is that Wi-Fi isn’t free on Virgin trains, and to make things worse, it’s not even working at all. Mustn’t complain though, the fact that they normally offer it and have it working is pretty awesome really.
There was a lot of snow on the ground through the Borders, I think I’m very lucky to have got through when I did, it would have been tough riding. It was always a bit of a chance, riding in the UK at this time of the year, but I’ve been very lucky, with really only the one day that was bad. Otherwise it was quite pleasant riding conditions, through the countryside, with spring just starting to peek through.
I have finally reached the last new country of my world bike tour:
Yesterday I crossed the border near Langholm, tomorrow I should arrive in Edinburgh. Driving rain, strong winds and low temperatures didn’t make things the easiest today, but as I said to someone “I didn’t come to Scotland to work on my tan.” Besides, so far it’s been warmer than Patagonia.
One thing I forgot to mention last time too – a big thank you to the crew at Evans Cycles in Kendal. As I was passing through Kendal, one of my seat post bolts snapped. Hunting through my pile of spares, the closest replacement I had was just a little bit short, resulting in a seat at an unnatural angle. I went in to Evans, where they found some spare bolts, fixed up the outstanding minor issue I’d had with my front brake, and loosened a tight pedal. I wanted to buy some muscle recovery rub, and they felt that was sufficient charge – the other work was free! Cool. Very grateful for the quick service, and being able to get back on the road no hassles at all.
I’m not sure exactly what it is, but for some reason I often run into random characters, who want to tell me their life story. Often they are ex-military. People seem to see what they want to see in me, and tell me things I would perhaps rather not know. I was in Lancaster, after having gone shopping at the Oxfam charity store for some books, sitting in a pub trying to have a quiet pint. The first person to sit opposite me was a traffic planner, and reasonably interesting. Apparently if you are fourth-generation unemployed, lack of access to transport facilities is not the reason you’re unemployed, and don’t want a job. Who would have thought?
We were joined by someone I’ll call Mark, for that was the name he gave. Tall, with a nose that had been broken more than once, he had the underweight appearance you associate with people with too much nervous energy, or a heroin addiction. In this case it would be the former though. All sorts of stories started coming out, about his being an ex-British Army sniper, serving in Desert Storm, working as a mercenary in South Africa, poaching game from the local laird’s land, living in Holland for years without speaking any Dutch, now living in a caravan while back here temporarily…it all came out. Somewhere along the line, I mentioned having received a hard time getting into the UK recently – well last time he came into England, he ended up in jail. And he’s a British citizen. But it’s because he’s one of those people who wants to be a prick about officialdom, not realising that sometimes the best thing to do is just play along with the petty power games. You’d think that he would have learnt that in the Army – or maybe his behaviour now is a reaction to that.
Along the way a completely wasted woman tried latching onto us, when she could barely stand (this was on a Monday night, about 7pm). We advised management, who escorted her from the premises. She’d been fine when she ordered a drink 20 minutes ago, according to the barman, and had then rapidly gone downhill, presumably having taken something. Mark tells me he sticks to beer, 8 pints is fine, he can just see straight enough to walk home…it was an interesting evening.
Lancaster was nice enough to pass through, although too many of those obviously English-looking young men, with plastered-down hair, shell suits and no chins. Silly schoolgirls wearing super short skirts, didn’t anyone tell them it’s freezing? I liked the signs along the redeveloped waterfront, referring to the place being a major trading center between West Africa and the West Indies, but having declined after 1815. No mention of what they were trading, or why it declined…it was in slaves. Whoops.
I’ve had some nice riding heading north, a bit of rain, but some superb canal riding, along the Lancaster Canal. This used to go between Lancaster and Kendal, but the northern part was filled in when the motorway was built. There are plans afoot to resurrect it though, which would be a good thing. Canals are everywhere in Britain, they are a truly impressive engineering feat. It’s interesting the way they declined, and many were filled in during the 1960s, but there has been a massive revival, as people realise that canals are fantastic for cruising along, or walking beside. More power to the people restoring them I say.
I’ve entered the Lake District, having a few easy days, between Lancaster, Ambleside and now Keswick. Easy going, sometimes a bit hilly around here, but short days matched with beautiful countryside. Far busier than I recall from 6 years ago though. Today I stopped at a circle of standing stones, at the top of a hill, in the drizzle. Too wet to take pictures, but a superb, solemn sort of a place, looking around the valleys, wondering about what the hell a bunch of eejits dragged all those big rocks all that way for.
I must make a special mention of Peter Gostelow, someone who inspired me, years ago when I was living in Edinburgh. At that time, Peter had started riding from Japan back to the UK. His was one of the websites that inspired me to start doing this. Most recently he’s started riding from the UK to Cape Town. Along the way, he’s had a few thefts, as have I. But recently things got much worse for him, when he was attacked by men with machetes, and received deep cuts to his wrist and foot. Tendon damage to his wrist means no riding for a while, and he’s in a very tough position. I think he’ll carry on, assuming he’s able to ride in a month or so, but it’s very difficult. That is almost as bad as it can get, being physically attacked. I can only wish him well, and hope he’s able to continue. There but for the grace of God…
Every road sign seems to point to a league town around here – Wigan, St Helens, Huddersfield, Bradford, Leeds, etc. But I’ve managed to avoid them all, although it’s taken some torturous routing. I’ve lost count of the number of times I need to get the map out during the day, to work out which way to go, to avoid the busy roads, but still keep moving in the right direction. Thankfully the signage is usually good, the road grading system works well, and excellent high quality maps are available. Except of course I didn’t want to buy the enormous highly detailed map, and so the one I have is sometimes just a touch lacking in detail. Such a change from most of the other bike touring I’ve done, where I would follow one road for weeks, with few, if any intersections.
From Bath, I headed west to Bristol on the “Bristol and Bath Railway Path”, the first path that started the Sustrans movement, back in 1979. Where I come from there are few railways, but here they are everywhere. But what you don’t at first realise is that there used to be far more, before Beeching’s Axe fell. So even though there are many, many lines, in use by millions of people, there are also huge numbers of disused lines, abandoned stations, etc. Some of this land has been reused, for housing, etc., some of it is just abandoned, but large parts have been turned into walking and cycling tracks. It’s all very pleasant riding.
One strange thing along the way though: The line was ripped up years ago, then later Sustrans came along, and turned it into a cycling track. But now some anorak-wearers want to revive a steam railway, and have been relaying track, alongside the bike path, at a cost of £100,000 per mile. Classic.
I decided not to stop in Bristol, instead pushing on over the the Severn, and very briefly into Wales. But I got out of there quickly, don’t worry. Ended up staying in a little village, where Mine Host was down to his last week running the place, and was about to retire to Portugal. A very British thing to do, to retire to Spain or Portugal. But he was OK, he speaks some Portugese, and has Portugese friends – he’s not looking to join another British enclave.
Finally turning north was a relief, because it meant the winds were behind me, and I’ve made steady progress north, now getting to Preston. I should be past the worst of the industrial sprawl now. It’s amazing how many little villages there are, all so close together, with freshly plowed fields between them. Even with the large industrial towns, I can still find little villages, with pretty much anything rating a dot on the map having at least a pub.
The pubs are in decline though, 40 close per week. I’ve wondered about that in the past, because I haven’t seen a lot of evidence for it, but today especially I noticed large numbers of boarded up places, and many others with signs saying “For Lease.” One was only £200/week, would be a reasonable price to pay to live there. It’s obvious why some are closed though, large carparks, with no surrounding houses – people just don’t drink and drive as much any more.
I’ve been looking at the maps, trying to work out my route north. I think I’ll go through the Lake District, it’s years since I was there. I’ve got a day in hand, so I should be able to get to Dundee (my final cycling destination) with time to spare.
