A bed (or five, six, seven, eight or nine) for the night

Some of us (Judy and I) have been getting rather twitchy about accommodation for the trip. Yes, it’s three months away and yes, it’s not the height of the tourist season (and Runcorn’s tourist season may not be too hectic) and yes, it does go through some remote areas which are largely bypassed by the holidaying hordes. 

Therein lies the problem: if there aren’t many tourists, there aren’t many places for them to rest their weary heads. Our penultimate stop is planned to be at the Crask Inn, south of Tongue on the A836. It merits its own dot on the map and if we can’t get beds there, we would have to go on for another eight miles. I rang: no room at the inn. After a moment of panic, I was told that we can have the bunkhouse for the seven of us to use, at the exorbitant cost of £31.50 each for the night (including breakfast and evening meal, served at the inn). Panic over.

At the other end of the scale and the route, lies Cornwall. It’s busy in June and has no Youth Hostel in the right place for us, so we have looked at B and B’s. These sound lovely, most providing wonderful cooked breakfasts, but the rooms are small and some don’t have enough bedrooms. There will be five of us for the first week or so, four women (combined age of approximately 220) and one man (aged 30), and none related in any way to any of the others. The one B and B which seemed to provide the perfect solution (a single room and another which took four single beds) was happy to accommodate us for the night but in three double bedrooms. I’m sure we’ll all be much better acquainted by the end of the trip but being quite so cosy on the second night seemed to be rushing things a bit.  We continue looking.

It’s been much less stressful booking Youth Hostels. YHA* have given us group membership so we get a discount on stays of about £3 each bed. They’ve moved on a lot since I last used one: some have private rooms and licensed restaurants and bed prices start at about £19 before discount with a three-course evening meal for under £12. They also have the advantage of being designed for groups of people spending all day outdoors so have drying rooms for wet clothing if you happen to get caught in a shower.

I’m sure it’ll all work out in the end. Even the places I’ve booked so far are giving us plenty of variety and I’m still only half-way through the bookings. We’re getting there, slowly, and with luck we’ll have the right number of beds on the right date in the right place.  If not, sleeping under the stars has been on my To Do list for a while so it would be one more thing to tick off.

*See Youth Hostels Association and Scottish Youth Hostels Association if you want to find out more.

It must be love, love, love.

Inaction breeds doubt and fear. Action breeds confidence and courage. If you want to conquer fear, do not sit home and think about it, go out and get busy.    Dale Carnegie.

I had a major crisis of confidence in the middle of February: my old bike was slow, my new bike gave a different riding position (etc), the weather was windy and wet, I was old, I was daft to think I could ride LEJOG when I was too scared to get on my new bike on the road, my legs weren’t as long as I thought they were and…. well, you get the picture.

Simon Tubb (http://www.sjtubb.blogspot.co.uk/) said he’d ride a few miles with me on Saturday 22nd. It seemed sensible to ride up and down our quiet road before hitting any with traffic so I gingerly pushed the bike to the kerb and got on, pushed off and……………… Oh, what a revelation! I suddenly saw why people had been telling me it would feel lighter (wobble to the end of the road, stop, walk bike round, get on), easier (wobble, stop, walk bike round, get on), smoother (wobble, stop, walk bike round, get on), more fun (wobble, ride bike round – woohoo! Success!) and I carried on wobbling down to Hallen (scary hill – walk down it) and the non-existent chemical works.

After a slight communication breakdown I met Simon on my way back and he managed to persuade me to ride a bit further. The weather was beautiful, spring was springing and we kept going from one possible stop point to the next, turning round after seven miles, back the way we came and up the scary (whichever way you go) hill! Yay! Success!

My next challenge was to ride by myself so I set off last Sunday in the rain down the scary hill on the bike (Go me!) and around the Avon Cycleway, concentrating on keeping upright in head- and cross-winds, with my mental sound-track on shuffle and playing “It must be love, love, love,” and Queen’s “Bicycle Race,” the latter’s segue into “Fat-bottomed girls” reminding me that the reward maybe should be more restrained than “eat anything with sugar in” when I get home. Something with a stronger rhythm was needed for the last few miles and Salt’n’Pepa’s “Push it” did the trick, then it was that ****** hill again. I started talking to myself: concentrate……. keep it going…….. relax……...  That did the trick and I rode up the hill with Frankie Goes to Hollywood, hoping I wasn’t singing aloud.  Thanks, Frank!

I’m gradually ticking things off my “Learning to ride my new bike” list: riding in the rain, cross-winds, head-winds, downhill, uphill, on the drops, standing on the pedals (I’ve done that once with each foot – it’s a start), etc. It’s helping me build confidence and strength. The bike still feels a bit wobbly at times but I’m slowly getting there. I ticked another one off the list today as I swung (ooh – get me) onto the drive and promptly fell off. Bike unscathed but I’m now the proud owner of a bruised hip and a grazed knee. Many years of watching the Tour de France showed how useful they'd been when the voice in my head said "Ooooh. That'll hurt when she gets in the shower."

I'm off for a bath.

My new Valentine

In the middle of February I got the news I’d been waiting for: my new bike had arrived. I felt as excited as a five-year-old at Christmas, apart from those times when I was mildly terrified (drop handlebars, different gears, looks smart) and thoughts of “this is going to be fun” mingled with “what on earth have I done?”  Still, I’d paid a deposit and I’m from Lancashire so I went to BW Cycling on 14^th February to have the bike properly set up.

I am slightly obsessed with having my bike set up properly: I’m not tall (you may have noticed), I’m planning to ride a long way (you might have heard) and I’m not young (zip it!). The bike is beautiful: sleek, smooth and rolls with a lovely quiet “tick, tick” sound.

Oli put the bike on a turbo-trainer. I got on it - just (the turbo-trainer lifts it a couple of inches off the ground so it was a bit of a stretch), and Oli stuck white dots on my ankle, hip and knee, then I pedalled while he videoed me. This was not as strange as it sounds: the dots acted as reference points. We looked at the video and he joined the dots, measuring the angles between ankle and hip, shoulder and knee, etc. Then he said something that no-one has ever said to me before: “You’ve got long legs,” adding,”relatively speaking” before lowering the saddle a bit. Ah well, it was good while it lasted. He continued tweaking the set-up of the bike: saddle moved forward, stem changed for a smaller one, then showed me how to change gear. This is all rather complicated and abstract without a road and I think (hope!) it will soon become natural. 

BW have been great: Andy and Oli have been interested in me and what I want to achieve. They’ve taken into account my experience, age and physical fitness without ever being patronising and everyone else has been friendly. I’m confident that the bike is going to do the job.

I went back a few days later to have mudguards fitted (to the bike, not to me) and Oli has lent me his turbo-trainer. I am honoured: he has been National Cross-country Cycling Champion five times and has represented Britain three times at the Olympics. It inspired me and when I got home I set it up the turbo in the carport, put on some loud music and started pedalling. The front wheel seemed to be at an angle, so I got off and adjusted that. I tried the “drinking while pedalling” technique (needs practice). I couldn’t hear the music properly so I went inside and turned up the volume. A few minutes later, the bike started to make a squeaky noise. I stopped pedalling and checked but couldn’t see anything wrong.  I started again and realised I’d left the door open a bit too much on a chilly day but I reckoned I could just about reach it if I leaned over.  So I leaned and …………………………..

It’s not very promising if I can’t even stay upright on a bike that isn’t moving.