14th May to 12th June 2022

It’s been a while since we finished this trip, and we never got round to writing a blog post so I’ve put together all our social media posts so it’s all here together in one place.
The original plan had been for Marcus to run while I carried all our kit on my bike, but a stress fracture meant that running was no longer an option so we decided to both cycle and take our packrafts so that we could paddle some of the wet bits. We decided to stick with much the same route that I had originally planned to ride which took in almost every steep hill between Land’s End and John O’Groats, but it was scenic!
We were very pleased with a total of £1760 raised for the fantastic charity WaterAid.
If you want to follow us we’re now on instagram @shesnotpedallingontheback

Day 1 – 14 May, 2022

And we’re off!
With a 1400 mile journey ahead of us, the first pedal strokes have been taken. Rolling away from a sunny Lands End it feels great to finally be on our way.
You can keep track of our progress on our website here https://boglejog.uk/where-are-we/ with an update at the end of each day.
(There’s the link for donations for Wateraid on there too. 😉).
Time for more pedalling and a pasty I think!

Day 2 – May 15, 2022

A tent with a view this morning

#decenttoiletsforall #finishthirst #wateraid #lejog2022

Day 3 – May 16, 2022

The only flat bits in Cornwall are the beaches!

#engagelowgearnow #winchingup #grannygear #niceview #kernow #cornishhills #cycletouring #lejog2022 #boglejog #decenttoiletsforall #finishthirst #wateraiduk

Day 3 – May 17, 2022

Yesterday morning, after several cups of tea we couldn’t put off leaving our amazing hosts Sue and Dusty any longer and ventured out into the pouring rain.
Luckily it didn’t last long and we rolled down into Padstow to find our planned paddle across the estuary scuppered by a fast flowing, outbound tide.
A new plan took us onto the beautiful Camel Trail (no hills!!) past bluebells and wild garlic aplenty.
Then to finish we climbed up onto the rugged expanse of Bodmin moor. A world away from the busy coast roads.

#soggycycling #changeofplan #cameltrail #bodminmoor #kernow #cycletouring #lejog2022 #boglejog #decenttoiletsforall #finishthirst #wateraiduk

Day 4 – May 17, 2022

While we cooked dinner in some woods last night an intrigued dog walker asked what we were up to. We explained and handed her a card with our website details. This morning we woke up to a new donation and the following message:
“So pleased to have met you this evening in Wilsey Woods near Camelford. Good luck with your onward journey and fundraising. Such a worthwhile (essential) cause!”
Thanks Georgy! Don’t forget you can find the link to donate on our website BogLEJOG.uk
Once on the road we were blown out of Cornwall and into Devon with a handy following wind. Arriving at Bideford we took to the Tarka Trail to finish by the sea for the last time before we get to Scotland. We’ll miss the sound of the waves and that sea air!

#generousstranger #wildcamping #nosuchthingasatailwind #byebyekernow #devonia #tarkatrail #decenttoiletsforall #finishthirst #wateraiduk

Day 5 – May 19, 2022

Old railway lines make for excellent cycle trails. The Tarka Trail was the third of our trip so far and gave us a beautiful morning ride into Barnstaple.
The debate continues as to how to make a cream tea. Kirsty swears by the Cornish way but I always go with the superior Devon method.
The main task of the day was to tackle Exmoor. Long, steep climbs but epic views at the top.
After being sunburnt in the morning the afternoon turned wet, very wet. Luckily we found shelter at the end of the day in time for an interview with BBC Hereford and Worcester.
41 minutes in on this show:
https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/p0c3fyq0

Day 6 pt.1 – May 20, 2022

The big hills were behind us but we still had to get off Exmoor which meant a glorious decent on narrow, gravelly roads towards Taunton.
Crossing the M5 marked our arrival at the Somerset levels which felt a complete contrast to the saw toothed profile of the previous few days.
A cattle jam gave us time for a break before we made our way to the banks of the King’s Sedgemoor Drain.

#exmoor #downdowndown #somerset #quantocks #cattlecrossing #cycletouring #lejog2022 #decenttoiletsforall #finishthirst #wateraiduk

Day 6 pt.2 – May 20, 2022

Finally a chance to paddle!
Boats inflated, bikes loaded then a tricky entry into the King’s Sedgemoor Drain (more scenic than it sounds).
The cows on the riverbank were even more curious about us than the ones on the road. We had them galloping alongside for a while.
For almost the entire stretch we followed a flock/gaggle/serene of about 20 swans until we got too close and they all flew straight at us. Ducks and geese weren’t so bothered.
Such a peaceful way to end the day.

#packrafting #bikerafting #kingssedgemoordrain #somersetlevels #collectivenounforswans? #Peaceful #decenttoiletsforall #finishthirst #wateraiduk

Day 7 – May 21, 2022

On the Isle of Avalon, Glastonbury Tor can be seen for miles around. A hike to the top gave us great views over the Somerset levels with the Mendips beyond.
Long straight roads then took us to Wells before it was time to climb again. There are several routes up onto the Mendips and Ebbor Gorge is one of the harder options. Lugging a bottle of wine for our hosts didn’t help either!

#glastonburytor #somersetlevels #wellscathedral #ebborgorge #mightymendips #cycletouring #lejog2022 #decenttoiletsforall #finishthirst #wateraiduk

Day 8 – May 23, 2022

We’d planned our departure from Lands End to be able to arrive in the Chew Valley in time for a long awaited wedding on Saturday.
So cycling kit was swapped for glad rags for a superb weekend of celebrating and dancing. Such a contrast from the previous few days on the road and great to catch up with old friends.
There was still time to squeeze in a parkrun at Clevedon just to keep the legs moving. Thanks to our wonderful hosts Alex, Suzanne and Effie and their very refreshing pool too!

#happycouple #happyfamily #offthebike #parkrun #parkrunday #cycletouring #lejog2022 #decenttoiletsforall #finishthirst #wateraiduk

Day 9 – May 23, 2022

As James Brown was fond of saying “Take it to the bridge”!
We waved goodbye to the wedding party and said hello to a few more friends as we pedalled through the familiar streets of Bristol.
It’s always fun to cross the Clifton Suspension Bridge then we were out towards the River Severn to cross the Severn Bridge into Wales. But it was only a short stay before we took the Bridge over the River Wye back into Gloucestershire to find a place to camp before we head up the Wye Valley.
In the tent we were treated to the sounds of the Vengaboys playing ljve at Chepstow racecourse about 3 miles away. The perfect lullaby (!)

#bridgecrossing #brunelsmasterpiece #lovebristol #crosstowales #woahweregoingtoibiza #cycletouring #lejog2022 #decenttoiletsforall #finishthirst #wateraiduk

Day 10 – May 24, 2022

With an annoying ear worm about going to Ibiza yesterday we dropped onto the Wye Valley Greenway to see Tintern Abbey from a new angle.
The road down the Wye valley is one of our favourites: smooth and scenic.
After paying homage to Rockfield Studios and belting out renditions of Bohemian Rhapsody and Wonderwall (both recorded there) the road took us to Whitecastle.
Along the way we stopped at an ancient stone trough to find it had the inscription “Dwfr Yn Rhydd I Bawp” which means “Free Water for All”. It seems even in 1880 people realised how important it is for everyone to have access to clean water. Hopefully our trip will help WaterAid get a little bit closer to that goal.
The day ended at Llanthony Priory at the foot of one of Wales’s all time classic climbs. As the clouds closed in and rain began to fall we decided to save that challenge for the next day.

#cyrmu #tinternabbey #wyevalley #willyoudothefandango #llantonypriory #whitecastle #freewaterforall #decenttoiletsforall #finishthirst #wateraiduk

Day 11 – May 25, 2022

When we woke up in the morning the hill was still there but the rain had stopped. A couple of steep ramps took us up to the Gospel Pass, the highest paved road in Wales. There were even a few flakes of snow at the top.
An amazing descent with fantastic views dropped us into Hay on Wye where we inflated the boats and took to the water again.
Back on the bikes at Whitney, and a few bonus hills later we found a great wild camp for the night.

#wateraid #finishthirst #gospelpass

Our progress so far:
Cornwall ✅
Devon✅
Somerset✅
Gloucestershire✅
Monmouthshire✅
Herefordshire✅
Radnorshire✅
Shropshire✅
🚲🚲🚣🚣‍♀️⛺
https://boglejog.uk/where-are-we/

Day 12 – May 26, 2022

We climbed the last few hills in Wales before crossing into Shropshire where things weren’t much flatter but a useful tailwind helped us along.
Just after The Bog (yes this is a real place), we winched up and over the Long Mynd with some impromptu sheep herding along the way! 🐑
Then it was down to Ironbridge where we loaded Marcus up with several kilos of food before the steep climb out of Coalport. All good training!
At the end of the day we set up camp with a nagging feeling that something was missing. It was our lock, still lying a field 106km away near Presteigne 😓
Marcus had another call with BBC Hereford & Worcester last night and you can listen to his interview here at 1hr 40mins.
https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/p0c4rkjr

#wateraid #finishthirst #lejog2022 #longmynd #bbcherefordandworcester #lostlock #decenttoiletsforall #thebog

Day 13 – May 27, 2022

We spotted this old CTC sign on a hotel in Brewood. These were to signify that an establishment offered facilities for cyclists. I’m not sure whether the fancy hotel could have competed with the doggers’ car park we just slept in – it had a picnic table!
After a quick stop in Penkridge to buy some cleaning cloths and use the leisure centre showers, we headed up to Cannock Chase with clean chains and clean bodies.
Marcus resisted the temptation to do a test run on the Commonwealth Games mountain bike race course.
Dropping down the other side, we were soon entering our 10th county of the trip, Derbyshire. A quick stop in Ashbourne to pick up a replacement lock and the start of the Tissington Trail.
The heavens opened to give us a good drenching for the last hour of riding.

#wateraid #finishthirst #cannockchase #tissingtontrail #peakdistrict

Day 14 – May 28, 2022

We rolled into Tissington yesterday to discover they have a tradition of ‘Well Dressing’ that takes place on Ascension Day each year. Each of the 6 wells are decorated with amazing designs all made from natural materials like petals, stones, feathers and fur.
When is Ascension Day? Turns out it was yesterday so we got to take a look at the wells this morning.
It’s great to see water sources being celebrated for being the life saving resources that we all need. Luckily Derbyshire is not short of spring or two but 1:10 people in the world aren’t so fortunate. We’re using our journey to help WaterAid provide clean water, decent toilets and good hygiene for those who need it most. If you can afford to donate to give them a helping hand then it could change someone’s life.
Here’s the link: https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/bogLEJOG
🙏 Thanks to everyone who’s contributed so far, it really helps us keep going!

#tissington #tissingtonwelldressing #derbyshirewelldressing #tissinftontrail #valuablewater #finishthirst #decenttoiletsforall #wateraiduk #lejog #BogLEJOG

After a little ride around Tissington to look at the well dressings, we finished off the Tissington Trail.
An unfortunate shopping error meant we had had nothing for breakfast so we waited in Monyash for the cafe to open where we met another cyclist who was interested in our trip. We gave him a card and he later made a very generous donation – thank you!
We set off towards Castleton into a ferocious headwind which made the hills seem twice as steep but the views of the Derbyshire Dales were spectacular.
After Castleton one option was Winnat’s Pass – steep (25+%), narrow and incredibly busy. So we took the other route, the Mam Tor “broken road”. This used to be the main road until numerous landslips made it uneconomical to maintain and it was abandoned in the 70s. Most of the tarmac is still there, just not in its original location.
Marcus managed to ride most of it and then I was treated to the very rare sight of him pushing his bike. I found even pushing difficult because the wind was gusting so strongly it stopped me in my tracks.
Back on the main road we eventually made it to Glossop where we rewarded ourselves with a 16″ pizza and very nearly finished it.

#wateraid #finishthirst #mamtor #brokenroad #peakdistrict

Day 15 – May 29, 2022

Camping in a park where parkrun takes place leaves few excuses for being late to the start! After a nice trot round the Glossop course we were out on the bikes again for a lovely last bit of Derbyshire.
We knew we’d entered Yorkshire when Kirsty was greeted with an ‘Ay up’ by another cyclist. The Yorkshire bingo had begun with various games of cricket, a pigeon racing lorry, steep cobbled streets and a few flat caps getting us near to a full card. Just a whippet left to find.
The riding today was the hardest of the trip so far. Steep drops into gritty mill towns before even steeper climbs out the other side. Then repeat. The last climb of the day from Hebden Bridge took every last bit of strength with a cruel cobbled section to finish us off. Thankfully a camp spot with a glorious view was our reward.
Team BogLEJOG did raise a smile when we found Flush House Lane. But 20% of the world’s population don’t have a decent flush house or even a toilet. Please help WaterAid turn this around.
If you can afford a donation then here’s the link:
https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/bogLEJOG
It’s all very much appreciated and every donation helps give us more power for the journey! 🙏

#parkrun #derbyshire #yorkshire #t’hill #howsteep? #needmorecake #hebdenbridge #pavé #cycletouring #lejog #boglejog #decenttoiletsforall #finishthirst #wateraiduk

Day 16 – May 30, 2022

These days all our views are framed with grey, dry stone walls. And the views kept improving as we crossed Widdop Moor before dropping down to the Liverpool to Leeds canal.
A very welcome lunch stop with our friends Nikki and Dave complete with incredible ginger cake set us up nicely for the climb to Malham Tarn. Now in the Yorkshire Dales National Park this steep climb took us onto a high moor with rocky crags and a thin ribbon of road to follow.
Occasionally the walls were punctured with a ‘sheep creep’ which works well for cyclists to creep through too.
After a brief but chilling shower before the high speed decent to Stainforth we were treated to a clear evening for the final spin up to the Ribblehead Viaduct. A mighty finish line for a great day in the saddle.

#drystonewalls #yorkshiredales #fuelledbycake #malhamtarn #sheepcreep #creepingcyclist #cycletouring #lejog #boglejog #decenttoiletsforall #finishthirst #wateraiduk

Day 17 – May 31, 2022

A gentle climb and then descent to Hawes served as a warm-up up the main event: Buttertubs. This is a famous climb amongst cyclists, but from the Hawes side there are a couple of steep 20% ramps and the rest is easily ride-able. It just goes on a bit!
Coming down the other side we bumped into Jeff, our friend from Evesham who was heading home in his car after spending a weekend cycling in the area.
We dropped down into Swaledale, the hillsides dotted with the eponymous sheep and stone cow barns, and took the turning for Tan Hill, home of the highest pub in the British Isles.
There was a bit of unpaved road for me to practice my non-existent mountain bike skills, and then we were out of Yorkshire and into County Durham and the North Pennines.

#wateraid #finishthirst #lejog2022 #buttertubs #swaledale #tanhill #100climbs

Day 18 – Jun 01, 2022

A day of superlatives: the highest road of the trip over Yad Moss at 599m where a sleet shower made us the wettest and coldest we’ve been so far too.
Somehow we extracted ourselves from the cafe on the other side to find the South Tyne trail that felt like a bit of a work in progress in a classic Sustrans way.
Then we were up through Hadrians Wall as a nice indicator as to how far north we’d come, and entered Northumberland. Rocky forest tracks took us across Wawk Forest and Kirsty’s off road skills improved with every pedal stroke.
We’ve got 20 minutes more daylight compared to when we were in Cornwall so we kept on pedalling late into the evening for our longest day yet. The end point was a soggy Kielder Water shoreline to be shared with an officious night watchman and several thousand midges. 🦟

#yadmoss #northpennines #northpenninesaonb #countydurham #cumbria #freezingtoes #southtynntrail #sustrans #hadrianswall #kielderforest #kielderforest #boglejog #decenttoiletsforall #finishthirst #wateraiduk

Onwards and northwards!
Cornwall ✅
Devon✅
Somerset✅
Gloucestershire✅
Monmouthshire✅
Herefordshire✅
Radnorshire✅
Shropshire✅
Staffordshire ✅
Derbyshire✅
Yorkshire✅
Lancashire✅
County Durham✅
Cumbria✅
Northumberland✅
Scottish Borders
🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿✅
🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿✅
🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿
🚲🚲🚣🚣‍♀️⛺
https://boglejog.uk/where-are-we/
Nearly halfway to our fundraising target too! 🚽🚰💰🙏
https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/bogLEJOG
Thanks folks 🙏

Day 19 Part 1- Jun 02, 2022

We woke up on the banks of Kielder Water and crawled out of the tent eager to see where we’d pitched it. The night watchman had moved us on from our first choice location at 11pm the night before. “If I can’t see you I won’t move you” he said so we’d packed up in the dark and rain and moved a couple of hundred metres further into the woods.
A bit further along the shore we found the perfect beach to launch from and the boats were soon inflated.
The water was flat calm with barely a soul to be seen. We were lucky enough to see an osprey flying overhead with a fish in its talons. The only issue was finding somewhere to land with easy access back to the trail.
Apparently Springwatch are filming in Kielder this week so look out for us – we may feature as some new and strange aquatic life they’ve discovered.

#wateraid #finishthirst #packrafting #packraft #bikerafting #lejog2022 #frontierpackrafts

Day 19 Part 2 – Jun 02, 2022

Back on the bikes we headed out through Kielder forest and soon had to get out our passports for the border crossing into Scotland. A big milestone and the start of the final stage of our journey.
True to form for this country, the sun was out and we had blue skies for the rest of the day. Up we climbed on a beautiful road alongside a burn that opened up to give huge views over the surrounding hills of the Scottish Borders.
A slight catering error meant a detour for one of the team to collect supplies before reuniting and finding a hillside where we watched the sunset while tucking into the best meal a petrol station could offer.
There was another chance to chat to BBC Hereford and Worcester too which you can catch here at 2hr 50m
https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/p0c623p3

#kielderforest #northumberland #scottishborders #scotland #alwayssunnyinscotland #smoothroads #cycletouring #lejog2022 #boglejog #decenttoiletsforall #finishthirst #wateraiduk

Day 20 – Jun 03, 2022

Arriving in Innerleithen we found the town rammed full of mountain bikers. In the cafe Marcus had a haggis scone and “the best coffee of the trip”.
Outside the Co-op we bumped into James @craven11_ from Bristol who was attempting the fastest known time for the Capital Trail and had 120km to go.
A couple of gentle climbs and we were rewarded with an amazing view of Edinburgh. Marcus thought it was smaller than expected, but maybe it was just far away
Climbing into the Pentland Hills we passed James coming the other way, now with only 35km to go. He returned one of the Snickers we’d given him earlier as it was obviously weighing him down.
Camped next to the reservoir, we witnessed a touching family reunion as a ewe and and her lamb were calling to each other from opposite sides of the valley. Unfortunately the lamb decided the quickest route to his mum was through our camp. He leapt over my legs and then seemed to hover in midair above the bubbling pot on the stove. Noooooooo! Somehow he reversed mid jump and disaster was averted. That was until Marcus dropped the pot as he was lifting it off a few minutes later.

#wateraid #finishthirst #lejog2022 #haggisscone #pentlandhills #cycletouring #boglejog

Day 21 – Jun 04, 2022

A misty, grey and chilly morning took us up and over the pass through the Pentland Hills on a testing, rough track. Then it was down to pick our way through the jumble of towns that make up the M8 corridor between Glasgow and Edinburgh.
It felt like a filler day, simply getting from one side of the urban sprawl to the other using lanes and canals where we could.
Another creature encounter occurred when I was attacked by a swan on the towpath. Its huge bill took a jab for my bike but narrowly missed taking a chunk out of my tyre. Looking back we saw the reason was he had a clutch of cygnets with his partner nestled in the bank. Sorry Mr and Mrs Swan 🦢.
The canal was fairly tedious but livened up with the crossing of an aqueduct on a narrow cobbled path. Water on one side and 50m drop on the other.
Into Falkirk we found the famous wheel and watched tourists queuing up to take a ride. Sadly packrafts were not allowed on board.
It’s a huge and impressive water engineering project that cost £78m. WaterAid could provide clean and safe water for around 5.2 million people with the same amount. Now that’s an impressive water engineering project!
Just £15 per head can change someone’s life. If you’d like to help then here’s the link to make a donation:
https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/bogLEJOG

#pentlandhills #midlothian #unioncanal #swanattack #linlithgow #falkirkwheel #waterengineering #gettingitdone #cycletouring #konaute #lejog2022 #boglejog #decenttoiletsforall #finishthirst #wateraiduk

Day 22 – Jun 06, 2022

If the previous day had been hum-drum then this was a hum-dinger.
Now off the planned route to avoid the canal, we found ourselves on a ridge running parallel with The Trossachs giving us a panoramic view of Ben Lomond and chums.
The sun had most definitely got his hat on and given the clouds the day off too so arms were out and suncream on as temperatures crept into the mid 20s.
A pit stop in Callander gave us the chance to shower at the leisure centre, stock up with 2.5 days food for the next remote section and top up our bottles from a free water fountain. Imagine if every village in the world had one of these?
Then a superb path on NCN 7 took us up the valley on an old railway line before winding through the forest on swooping cinder tracks. The sunshine, the bathers in the loch and the towering hills made it feels like mid summer in the alps rather than June in Scotland.
The day ended with a 400m climb to camp under the imposing hulk of Ben Lawers with a reservoir just below us. Scotland has treated us well so far.

#lochlomondandtrossachsnationalpark #benlomond #sunnyinscotland #sunsoutgunsout #collander #neededthatshower #freewater #ncn7 #benlawers #agranddayout #decenttoiletsforall
#finishthirst #wateraiduk

Day 23 – Jun 07, 2022

We set off down the hill with the wind at our backs, amazing mountain views ahead, blue sky overhead and freshly laid, buttery smooth tarmac under our tyres. Cycling heaven!
At the Bridge of Balgie we stopped to take a photo of the red squirrel sign and then literally 2 seconds after I put the camera away a red squirrel came hopping along the parapet of the bridge. It was gone before I could get the camera back on so you’ll have to make do with this photo of Marcus’s best squirrel impression.
On today’s route there were two sections of steep rough stoney track over Rannoch Moor which put my non existent mountain biking skills to the test again. The usually patient Marcus even made a comment about the amount of waiting, but eventually, hot, tired and sunburnt, we arrived at the oasis of Loch Ossian.
A few days ago we saw a sign which said “Difficult roads often lead to beautiful destinations” and I think this may have been exactly what they were talking about. We pitched the tent next to the stunning loch, and I crawled in and collapsed.

#wateraid #lejog2022 #finishthirst #benlawers #lochossian #rannochmoor #redsquirrel

Day 24 – Jun 07, 2022

After the heat of the previous two days Loch Ossian was all too tempting for a refreshing dip in the morning.
Our planned route out was due to take us through a boggy footpath but some local guides advised against this. Despite being BogLEJOG the prospect of a 4 mile carry with our heavy bikes was not appealing.
Instead we took the service road that had been described as ‘Sublime gravel’ by another cyclist. He was right. This was a wide valley with a newly laid gravel road that we had all to ourselves. Grins hung from ear to ear all morning.
We worked around Ben Nevis, still with snow on the top and down to the main road into Spean Bridge. Despite only being out of civilisation for two days the bustle of the tourist town felt foreign and noisy.
Loading up with more food in our stomachs and panniers we left town alongside the imaginatively named Loch Lochy on a forest road. We were glad not to be on the A82 on the other side which was nose to tail with camper vans.
The top temperature for the day was 30 degrees and our solar panel is being so effective we’re considering signing up for a feed-in tariff.
As the evening drew in we found a quiet road up to Loch Garry to pitch up and enjoyed the silence again.

#lochossian #wildswimming #gravelriding #greatoutdoors #bennevis #rannochmoor #speanbridge #needmorefood #evenmorethanthat #fullpanniers #solarpowered #ibigbluesolar #lochlochy #offthrlebeatentrack #cycletouring #lejog2022 #boglejog #decenttoiletsforall #finishthirst #wateraiduk

Day 25 – Jun 08, 2022

This was a day that packrafts were made for. When planning the route for this trip I’d found the most amazing road leading down to Kinloch Hourn but it finished at a dead end at the loch. Round the other side of the peninsula was the end of another dead end road which led back to civilization. The rafts would allow us to connect the two.
The Kinloch Hourn road exceeded expectations. Steep mountains either side, a view down to the loch, and a tiny road which twisted and turned through the landscape like a rollercoaster.
Arriving at the loch, the water was calm and the wind was behind us. Inflating the boats we set off on the longest paddle so far (12km/7 miles). We had a brief encounter with a seal and a longer encounter with a couple of other paddlers who turned out to be from just down the road from us in Malvern.
Eventually a village hove into view. Back on the road, a couple of stiff climbs took us into Glenelg where we discovered the shop was shut, but the pub was open. A great camp spot suggested to us by some friendly Belgian tourists was the perfect place to finish a great day.
#wateraid #finishthirst #lochhourn #packrafting #bikerafting #deadendroad #frontierpackrafts #whereweregoingwedontneedroads #wellearnedpint #isleofskye #glenelg #sheenasteahut

Day 26 – Jun 09, 2022

This was a day bookended by two incredible views. The first was overlooking the Five Sisters at the end of Loch Duic. We’d earned it with a lengthy climb up from Glenelg, unlike the coach of American tourists enjoying it too. “Aren’t you cold?” one of them asked “Not after cycling up here!”.
We made our way up to Loch Carron in more traditional Scottish weather with grey clouds and steady drizzle. Then the glen widened out and we were hit by a headwind as stubborn as a highland cow and nearly as strong. Pushing a low gear on a nearly flat road is never much fun.
Luckily after 40km we turned 180° into a parallel glen and the bull was behind us pushing us up to our 2nd view. This time we stood and looked down towards Loch Maree with Bein Eighe Nature reserve all around it. The most rugged and massive landscape of the trip so far. A long day in the saddle took us to the shore of the Loch ready to take to the water in the morning.
Up here the Highland Council have been busy closing the public facilities to save costs. The local communities were devastated, realising how important it is to provide decent toilets and fresh water for locals and tourists. A lot of them have now been adopted as community projects run by volunteers and funded by donations. We’ve been very glad to have them available to use.
The communities that WaterAid work with are often starting from scratch to provide something similar but the aim is the same: Clean water, decent toilets and good hygiene for everyone. If you’d like to help WaterAid get closer to this goal then please make a donation if you can afford it:
https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/bogLEJOG

#glenelg #fivesisters #iloveagoosclimbinthemorning #earntheview #liquidsunshine #lochcarron #hateheadwinds #lovetailwinds #highlandcoo #lochmaree #beineighe #communityproject #decenttoiletsforall #finishthirst #wateraiduk

Day 27 pt.1- Jun 10, 2022

We awoke to the sound of waves lapping the shore of Loch Maree a few metres from the tent. Although the water looked a bit rough, the wind had dropped and we decided to go for it.
The wind picked up again as we were launching and blew my packraft side on to the waves, one of which came crashing over the side and filled the boat with water. I hoped the panniers were waterproof…
Getting out onto the water was a bit hairy but once we were going the packrafts bounced around on the waves quite happily. They really are very robust.
I bailed my boat out with a water bottle and with the wind behind us we reached our landing beach in double quick time.
This was probably the last paddle of the trip. They’ve been a great way to get to places we wouldn’t otherwise have got to and to see things from a different perspective. It was totally worth getting Marcus to carry them all this way, I’m sure he’ll agree.

#wateraid #finishthirst #lejog2022 #lochmaree #packrafting #packraft #bikerafting #frontierpackrafts #bikesonboats #paddleontheloch

Day 27 pt.2 – Jun 10, 2022

The wavy water was replaced with a wavy road once we were back on the bikes. Following the coast around Loch Ewe the water was as clear and blue and the sand as white as you’d find on the most exotic of Caribbean beaches.
We passed the most romantic of the Scottish islands: the Isle of Ewe (say it out loud). Heart rates were up and cheeks were flushed but that was probably due to the steep hills!
Eventually we dropped back to sea level alongside Little Loch Broom and found a kind old lady who filled our water bottles. Then we settled in for the 12km climb back up and over to join the main road towards Ullapool.
The midges haven’t been too much of a problem so far as we’re early enough in the year and there’s been enough of a breeze. But the wee beasties were being a bit of pest while we set up camp so the nets were on and we dived into the tent as soon as we could.
The keen eyed will have spotted that we’ve been working our way up the west coast when John O’Groats is in the north east of Scotland. We managed to get ahead of schedule so instead of racing to the finish line and putting our feet up we decided to add some extra distance instead. This was all about the journey rather than the destination after all. After Ullapool we’ll be turning east and we’re now inside the last 300km. Time for the final push!

#isleofewe #nc500 #northwestscotland #northwestscotlandbeaches
#upanddown #clearbluesea #ullapool #weebeastie #midges #thefarnorth #cycletouring #lejog2022 #boglejog #decenttoiletsforall #finishthirst #wateraiduk

Day 28 – Jun 11, 2022

We started with a short blast into Ullapool where we found breakfast, a shower and Tesco. The road out was one we had ridden in 2013 and it was good to see the familiar, jagged mountains again.
We shared the road with the convoy of campers and motorbikes from all over Europe on the North Coast 500 which has been a wildly successful driving route, some say too successful with the added traffic.
Soon we were turning away from the west coast with its dramatic landscape and onto a quieter, moorland road. Rolling hills and small lochs with stone bridges over the rivers. A very different landscape from the previous few days.
We rolled into Lairg towards the end of the day with the sprinkling of a shower overhead. Luckily they’d provided a covered picnic table as well as a bike work station with a pump for passing cyclists. This is a popular stop for the traditional LEJOG route.
Tomorrow’s forecast looks a bit grim so we’re bracing ourselves for wind and rain. We’re used to dealing with weather now though!

#wateraid #finishthirst #decenttoiletsforall #cycletouring #ullapool #lairg #nc500 #lairg #lejog2022 #boglejog #rainraingoaway

Day 29 – Jun 11, 2022

The promised rain storm never materialised but the wind was back with a vengeance. Handily on our backs for the first 30km so we made rapid progress with time to stop at the Crask Inn on the way. This legendary house has cared for end to enders for decades and is run by the Scottish Episcopal Church. Great homemade biscuits too. 🍪
Then we were blown along the road beside Loch Naver that was as choppy as the North Sea. We kept the packrafts safely in the panniers. Fly fisherman were trying their luck in the River Naver but we didn’t see anything being caught.
We couldn’t have the wind on our side all day though so a right turn took us into the teeth of the gale for a short stretch and then it was on our sides. The bikes had to be leant at a steep angle just to stay upright while we wrestled with the bars.
In a fitting penultimate day we were now in The Flow Country: Europe’s largest blanket bog. By far the most bleak, desolate and wind-blown road we’d ridden so far. This area is teeming with life though with birds of all shapes and sizes shouting at us all afternoon and a couple of red deer ran across the road in front of us. This area feels very much like we’re at the edge of the island.
Eventually the road bent round so the wind was behind us again and literally blew us up the last small hill. The rain began to fall and the prospect of a night in the tent became less and less appealing. Luckily we arrived at Forsinard to find the station waiting room was large enough to make our home for the night. The bikes were wheeled in and the stove was on. Kirsty managed to catch the very moment I kicked the pan of water on to the floor!
Just one more day to go.

#laird #craskinn #endtoend #lochnaver #tailwind #headwind #crosswind #bloodywind #flowcountry #peatbog #reddeer #tinyhouse #lejog2022 #boglejog #cycletouring #decenttoiletsforall
#finishthirst #wateraiduk

Day 30 – Jun 12, 2022

Spoiler alert – We have made it to John O’Groats! If you want to know how we got here then read on…
We had a very peaceful night in our cosy waiting room. Only two trains stop at that station on Sunday so the chances of us being disturbed were small.
First we went for a walk to the Forsinard Flows nature reserve to see the peat bog up close. The colours in the moss are really amazing.
Back on the bikes we still had a useful tailwind, but not as strong as the blow-you-off-the-road-sideways one of yesterday.
We turned off into the last off-road section of the trip, a lovely 25km of gravel through the bog and forest. Then all too soon we were back on the tarmac for the final wind-assisted blast to the finish.
As if on cue, as we rode up to the famous sign, a bagpiper started playing. It took three attempts to find a passerby capable of capturing us, the bikes and the sign in a photo, but we got there in the end.
There’s still a bit more pedalling to do because we’ve got to get to Thurso to catch our train on Tuesday. And we’ll post some final thoughts once the dust has settled.
Could we be the first to bikeraft Land’s End to John O’Groats?
We’ve had a great journey and all for a great cause. If you’d like to help WaterAid provide clean water, decent toilets and good hygiene to the poorest communities in the world, a donation here would be much appreciated.
https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/boglejog

#wateraid #finishthirst #decenttoiletsforall #flowcountry #peatbog #bogride #europesbiggestbog #lejog2022 #bikerafting #packrafting #boglejog #johnogroats #missionaccomplished #gravelriding #cycletouring

The Final Map and Stats

Cornwall ✅
Devon✅
Somerset✅
Gloucestershire✅
Monmouthshire✅
Herefordshire✅
Radnorshire✅
Shropshire✅
Staffordshire ✅
Derbyshire✅
Yorkshire✅
Lancashire✅
County Durham✅
Cumbria✅
Northumberland✅
Scottish Borders ✅
Midlothian✅
Falkirk✅
Stirling✅
Perth & Kinross✅
Highland✅
🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿✅
🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿✅
🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿✅
Total distance: 2243km (1394 miles)
Distance by bike: 2206km
Distance by packraft: 38km
Total elevation gain: 28,858m (94,678 ft)
The equivalent of 3.2x Everest or 38,477 toilets stacked up! 🚽🚽🚽🚽🚽
🚲🚲🚣🚣‍♀️⛺
https://boglejog.uk/where-are-we/
We’re just a few hundred pounds from our fundraising target for WaterAid too! 🚽🚰💰🙏
https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/bogLEJOG
Thanks for your support folks 🙏

Here’s a little video we made with an action cam attached to Marcus’s handlebars.

Stood in the middle of a peat bog high above the Hafren Forest we’re surrounded by pools and trickling streams. It’s been raining more on than off for most of the 4 km hike up from where we left the bikes. Hardy sheep shake off the worst of the weather from their water-logged fleeces before resuming their suspicious watch of the passing walkers. Stepping over a carefully laid path of flagstones we arrive at a well weathered wooden post etched with the words “Tarddiad Afon Hafren”. Plynlimon is a hill so wet that two of the longest rivers in the UK spill from its summit. The River Wye begins its life just south of where we are, but the focus for our journey is where the water at our toes will be heading. The words on the wooden post translate as “The Source of the River Severn”. 

The idea for this trip had been brewing for a few months. I’ve found that following rivers is a great premise for an adventure thanks to my brother suggesting that we run the length of the Nene, an ongoing project that we’re taking on in stages (you can hear a bit about it here). Another opportunity to explore the idea came last October with a weekend in Dorset along the River Frome (Mr Bisco made an excellent radio programme about that one). These trips had introduced the pleasure of watching a river grow as it winds its way round hills, through valleys and down to the sea and meeting all of the people and wildlife that live along its banks. The logical next step was to look for something a bit longer and without leaving this country there’s nothing longer than the Severn. Over its 225 mile course it meanders through Powys, Shropshire, Worcestershire and Gloucestershire. Some parts would be familiar while others would be new to us. All in all it looked like a beautiful route.

As we walk back down from Plynlimon, the ambling stream quickly gathers pace on the steep hillside. A series of cascading waterfalls broadens out into something that could probably be classed as a brook as it enters the Hafren Forest. Hopping back on the bikes, the descent into Llanidloes is a high speed thrill ride and we spend our first night in the first proper town on the river. 

To get to the source in the first place we’d ridden the 30km over from Caersws, which we’d found to be the nearest train station. It had been a road typical of the national cycle network being very quiet, very pretty and very, very hilly. We now had to head back to Caersws but this time we would be taking a much flatter option because as well as using bikes we were also carrying packrafts. These tiny inflatable boats pack down to the size of a sleeping bag but blow up to be big enough to carry a person, gear and bicycle. They introduce a whole new element to adventure planning as you can include the blue lines on a map in your route as well as the usual roads and paths. So to get from Llanidloes to Caersws we could paddle some of the stretch on the river instead of pedalling up and down the hills alongside it.

While tucking into breakfast in the park in the morning a slightly stern looking woman approaches and asks if we were the ones camping here last night. I nod sheepishly but she smiles and asks if we need a hot drink. After porridge and coffee we inflate the rafts, stow the panniers and lash down the bikes before pushing off from the slipway. It always feels a bit unnerving trusting all our kit to what looks like an inflatable pool toy and my knot tying skills are quickly tested with a little weir just under the bridge.

The river is now 20m wide but only a few cm deep so we wince at each bump and scrape with the rocks and gravel bed. There’s a bit of stepping out to push off but on the whole we keep moving. It’s great to be on the water with the warm sun overhead and little more than the splash of our paddles to disturb the peace and quiet. That is until we reach the rapids. To an experienced paddler this section would probably be classed as trivial but to two novice packrafters the route ahead looks intimidating. The river gets channelled between a series of rocks and boulders with barely enough room for us to squeeze through. I pick a channel and give it a go but get turned on a rock and wedged across the flow. Kirsty gets dragged in after me and we’re then stuck together with water pouring over the side of the boats. The bikes are also a bit tangled up but somehow we shove against each other and I’m freed only to then get tossed onto another rock. This time I’m sat high and dry but the front of the boat with its precious cargo (bike) is hanging precariously down off the rock. There’s nothing for it but to step out and guide the whole thing downstream where it calms down again. We’re both left a bit shaken up by what the fledgling river has managed to throw at us so soon and apprehensive about what might lay ahead. Another short rocky section causes a few difficulties but we eventually make it down to our exit point, conveniently located near to a roadside cafe. The boats are hauled out and rolled up, the bikes are reassembled and we discuss the morning’s events over an egg and bacon sandwich. It’s been the sternest test of our Frontier packrafts so far and it’s amazing how much abuse they can put up with. Although they look flimsy and delicate they are actually incredibly tough and have managed to shrug off the bumps and scrapes with barely a mark.

We’ve got used to keeping our plans fairly loose and flexible when we’re out on the bikes. On a road or trail you can stop where you like and take any turn that takes your fancy safe in the knowledge that, provided your map is up to date then there will almost always be a way to get the bikes through. But on the water there needs to be a bit more planning. You can only get in and out at certain points (made even more tricky when you need to get a loaded bike to a road too). There are some obstacles that can be navigated such as small weirs or the rapids we’d encountered. But larger weirs, raging rapids or fallen trees might not be packraft friendly. Luckily the paddling community are a nice bunch and share useful information to help others plan their trips. I’d used the Go Paddling website to try and work out which bits of the Severn would work for us and it proved invaluable. 

Safely on dry land we continue our journey through Wales back to Caersws then on to Newtown to pick up a trail following the now abandoned Montgomery Canal. In its heyday ‘The Monty’ would have been a busy thoroughfare with boats carrying limestone, coal, timber and slate between Llanymynech and Newtown. The section we’re on now has largely been reclaimed by nature and apparently the wildlife is thriving with reports of water voles and otters. We’re not lucky enough to spot any of those but through the trees and undergrowth we can see our constant companion, the Severn gently following our path.  Resupplying in Welshpool we eventually end the day camping behind the Green Dragon pub close to the Offa’s Dyke path with a clear, starlit sky over the tent and slightly-too-close railway line. 

After a wake up call by the 6:25 from Shrewsbury we’re back on the road early. Although the Dyke marks the traditional border with England we stay in Wales for a few more km in the morning. The Shropshire hills fill our view to the east and the river runs alongside us to the west. Each time we cross the river it changes slightly, either a bit wider or a bit faster. In some places, unseen rock formations have twisted it into tight meanders across the valley floor then further down it flows arrow straight and unhindered. A few Welsh flags before the bridge at Crewgreen signal not only another crossing of the river but also the border into England. Shortly after we spot a couple of cyclists wrestling with a back wheel and so we pull over to see if we can help. One of the men admits that the bike is new and he’s not sure how to get the wheel off to fix a puncture. It’s a new-fangled through axle so I tell him how it works and he’s relieved to finally get the thing off. Both of them are veteran cyclists and both of them are on electric bikes. “I suppose you think we’re cheating?” one of them suggests but in actual fact it’s the opposite. Forget gravel bikes, disc brakes and bluetooth shifters; e-bikes are getting more people into or back into cycling than ever before and for that they have to be the greatest innovation in cycling for decades. One of them is recovering from a stroke but today he’ll be riding 40km thanks to a bit of assistance which can only be a good thing. With a strong Welsh accent one of them confirms that we’re now in England “Can’t you tell from the air that you’re not in God’s Country now?”.

Pedalling on into Shrewsbury a wide, riverside path gives us an easy passage through the town and out the other side. Before long we part company with National Cycle Route 81 that had largely steered our route up to this point. It’s also the point where the river begins to turn south for the first time. There’s a theory that the Severn used to continue north into Cheshire to discharge into the Irish Sea but a big lump of ice during the Ice Age blocked the way and sent it round to form the Ironbridge Gorge. The river has now been joined by the River Vyrnwy and has swelled in volume but gets channeled into this narrow, steep sided gorge. However it was formed, this is a section I’ve been looking forward to. It’s time to unroll the boat again. 

From the water the Ironbridge Gorge is even more impressive but it’s the bridge itself that takes centre stage. Gently paddling up to the towering structure it’s amazing to think this was built over 240 years ago. Kirsty has decided to stay on her bike for this bit and waves at me from the bridge as I float underneath. The town recedes behind me and I’m back in the tranquility of the river. There’s a flash of blue and orange as a kingfisher darts in front of me. Moss covered rocks line the banks and the water is flat calm but moving me along at a useful pace. Rounding a corner the scene changes quickly as the noise of rushing water fills the air and the river is being churned up into swirling eddies, and boiling waves. I’ve arrived at the Jackfields Rapids, a 200m stretch that local paddlers love to come and play on. There are several lines and I chose the right side between a ridge of angry waves and the rocky bank. The boat shoots down and I just manage to keep it running straight as the bow gets pulled by various colliding flows. That was a lot of fun and it’s tempting to go back up and have another go but the day is quickly running out. I find a beach further downstream to meet back up with Kirsty and after transitioning back to cycling mode we’re back rolling towards Bridgnorth. We’re now on NCN route 45 which turns from a smooth road into a bumpy track on the bed of the old Severn Valley Railway. We’d hoped to find somewhere to pitch the tent along here but all we find are muddy fields grazed by sheep. A golf course further along looks much more inviting but we push on to the town and find a large park on the east bank of the river that is just what we’re after.

I’d originally pitched the idea for this trip to Kirsty back in June after running a section of the Severn Way near Bewdley. Running along the river bank with the Severn Valley steam train racing past on the other side made my mind wonder what it would be like to be on the water instead. In the middle of summer the whole thing sounded very appealing so Kirsty agreed that we should definitely do it. But somehow that illusive 5 day window that we needed never quite got booked into the diary and the summer ran away from us. I was sure there was still time to do it before the year ended though and in fact the beauty of the changing colours of the trees and the crisp morning air make autumn an invigorating time to be outdoors. We found a week in October and Kirsty reserved judgement until a few days before we started but when the forecast promised mild and largely dry weather we knew we had to go for it. 

Leaving Bridgnorth, NCN 45 takes on a slightly more adventurous nature as it steers us into some woods onto leaf strewn bridleways. In modern parlance this would probably be called gravel riding. The result is a drop in average speed and I nervously check my watch at every junction because I’ve got a train to catch this morning, or more accurately: a train to spot. The path gets steeper both upwards and downwards and eventually Kirsty sends me off ahead. She’s been feeling under par for the last few days and wants to take her time on this tricky section. We arrange to meet up again in Bewdley. I then push on to Arley to find the slipway and quickly inflate my boat and leave Kirsty’s boat with some friendly fishermen to pick up when she arrives. Taking to the water while scattering the crowds of ducks, geese and small children feeding them I paddle hard downstream for a couple of km. Rounding a corner another impressive bridge comes into view. This is the Victoria Bridge that carries the Severn Valley Railway and I’d wanted to arrive in time to watch the steam train crossing. I can hear the train blowing its whistle at the station just up the track so there’s just enough time to get lined up and set up my camera. The steam clouds billow over the treetops as the train chuffs along towards the bridge. I raise the lens to my eye just as it appears and then the camera beeps three times and shuts down. The battery has died! I fumble to find a spare but by the time it’s locked and loaded the last carriage is rolling off the bridge. At least I got to see it even if I didn’t manage to capture the photo. 

I continue paddling down past the Wyre Forest which is resplendent in its early autumn colours. This is the stretch I’d run alongside 5 months earlier and it’s just as pretty as I’d hoped with a few fast flowing sections to keep things interesting. I check my phone to make sure Kirsty is OK and pick up a message asking me where I am. When I call her back I ask her if she’d found her boat? “You’re joking aren’t you?”  comes the reply “Are you meaning to tell me my boat is at the bottom of this bloody great steep hill I’ve just ridden up??”. It turns out the patchy phone reception meant that she didn’t get my message to go and see the fishermen and she’d ridden straight through Arly and out the other side. “sorry” is as much as I can muster. I quietly continue paddling and pull up at Bewdley Rowing Club before being reunited with Kirsty (and her boat) and finding a cafe for a consolitary lunch. 

We’re back in our home county of Worcestershire now and the surroundings are beginning to look a bit more familiar. Into Stourport we pick up the towpath of the Staffordshire and Worcestershire Canal which is a stretch of water I’d pedalled a water bike along a few years ago while collecting litter. Rubbish in the waterways is an ongoing problem with plastic waste in particular being a common sight bobbing around in the river. For another trip we’ll have to pack our litter picking equipment as the packrafts would be a great way to help doing some cleaning up. 

After Ombersley we soon approach the outskirts of Worcester. Kirsty hasn’t been feeling much better and being a few miles from a warm bed she makes the sensible decision to head home. There’s a bit of kit swapping and a wave goodbye and then I’m on my way again but it’s a great shame not to be able to finish this together.  I end the day in Tewkesbury and find a picnic spot right by the river to spend my last night. In the fading light the dark water silently flows past a few metres from my tent as I tuck into the staple meal for a cycle tourist: pasta and tomato sauce. 

The sound of a strong wind in the trees wakes me early but I head straight out onto the water. This is the last paddle on the last day and I want to enjoy it in the golden morning light. Since our last encounter the river has been joined by the Teme and I’m launching at the confluence with the Warwickshire Avon so in places it’s swelled to nearly 100m wide. Out in the middle a brisk headwind is whipping up white horses so I try to stick to the bank where it’s more sheltered. Packrafts are not very fast and not particularly manoeuvrable so are susceptible to getting blown about in strong winds. It’s a great morning to be out on the water though with the air filled with migrating geese, herons patrolling the banks and the occasional kingfisher catching my eye. For long sections the high banks hide any signs of human activity and it feels like I’m the only person for miles around. This is what makes the difference compared to being on the bike as these boats allow us to gain a completely different perspective during our journey. I sit for a few moments with a contented smile. 

Eventually Haw Bridge comes into view and I pull in at a pontoon. For the last time the boat gets deflated and stowed away in a pannier and I’m back onto two wheels. Continuing along NCN 45 takes me down to Gloucester and the point where the river becomes tidal. In the middle of the city the docks still display their industrial heritage with dormant cranes alongside towering warehouses all now converted into flats and gyms and restaurants. Moving south I join the Sharpness Canal then swing closer to the Severn again at Epney. On the right day and at the right time this is a good spot to watch one of this country’s great natural phenomena: The Severn Bore. Some very strong coffee at a friend’s house in Slimbridge sets me up nicely for the last stretch which again gains some familiarity from our days of cycling when we lived in Bristol (and the LVIS audax). The river is now a source of great power with wind turbines spinning wildly from the banks and two huge nuclear power stations drawing water up to their reactors. The tide is on its way out revealing vast expanses of mud flats that are teeming with life and I watch wading birds pick out tasty morsels from the sludge. 

It’s hard to define where a river becomes an estuary and where that estuary becomes the sea but for the purposes of this trip I’d decided the Severn Bridge would serve as a fitting finish line. It’s the last point on the river where I can get to the middle (safely) under my own steam so that is where I aim for now. For the last 10km the sky clouds over and it begins to rain. This is the first time the weather has turned since that day on the top of Plynlimon and it feels entirely appropriate. Battered by the weather I roll out onto the huge suspension bridge with the brown water of the River Severn swirling far below me. It’s now 3km wide and the River Wye is pouring into it on the other side of the bridge, the rivers finally meeting after taking very different paths to get here. I stop in the centre of the bridge for a photo as the traffic on the motorway behind me roars past. It’s been a fascinating journey following this mighty river over the course of the last 200 miles, watching it grow in stature and carve out the landscape around it. The combination of bikes and boats has worked really well to allow us to see the river at various angles and at various speeds.

As I look down off the bridge I can’t help but wonder if any of the water below has been accompanying me all the way from that soggy peat bog in mid wales. 

It’s been over seven months since we returned from our jaunt around the world by tandem which is the longest amount of time we’ve spent in any one country in the last three years. Time is a funny old thing though and can be stretched or compressed depending on what you’re up to.  A day full of constant changes and new encounters seems to last a lot longer than a day with a routine in a familiar place. So if you want a week to feel like a month then go cycle touring. If you want a month to feel like a day then stay at home.

Since the bike got parked up life has taken enough twists and turns to keep us entertained. The sore knee that Kirsty was nursing for the last few weeks of the trip decided it hated stopping cycling even more than it hated cycling, swelling up and making for a painful Christmas on crutches. After some head scratching the doctors decided she’d contracted septic arthritis and rushed her into Redditch hospital for an intensive course of IV antibiotics. From a daily routine of pedalling miles and miles to three weeks in a bed on the wards couldn’t be more of a contrast. Eventually she was allowed to escape but it was clear that her knee would take a lot longer to return to its normal state as a pedalling powerhouse.

The poorly tandem has also had some surgery to get the back wheel working properly again. On receipt of our damaged hub the folks at Phil Wood replied with an email that started with ‘Just wow’. The only piece that could be salvaged from the old hub was a single nut but that didn’t stop them honouring their warranty and sending back a shiny replacement all the way from California. The trusty machine has spent most of the year resting with just the occasional short outing but we feel that this is very well earned after lugging us around the world for so long.

Other than this, the main challenge has been adjusting back to life in civilised society where sleeping in parks and washing in rivers is generally frowned upon.  We opened up the container where all our possessions are being stored and after a quick glance shut the door again. Why do we own all that stuff? Besides, making decisions like which t-shirt to wear have become almost impossibly daunting. Getting used to driving a car again has also been difficult and to begin with I had to open the sunroof and windows so I knew I was actually moving.  Getting around by bike is still the preferred method of transport where practical. We’re slowly expanding our diet beyond the limitations of two pans and a petrol stove and don’t need to try and get the maximum number of calories to the dollar when shopping.

Soon we had to face the reality of being back in the UK though and the enormous and omnipresent ‘What Next’ question kept tapping us on the shoulder and asking, well, what happens next? The stock answer for a while was to grin and boldly reply “A second lap”. The world is a huge place and there’s a whole new hemisphere that we didn’t even touch but that’s an adventure for another day. So the alternative, in the meantime is to do what everyone else seems to do and that’s to try and earn some money so we can afford to stay in this expensive country.

The short list of options  looked something like this:

Deliveroo cycle courier
Pro: Get paid to cycle!
Con: Don’t get paid enough to cover cost of maintaining bike let alone buying food as well

Uber driver
Pro: Get paid to drive!
Con: Driving is rubbish

Lidl checkout assistant
Pro: Get paid to go to Lidl every day!
Con: Have to spend all day in Lidl

International bike courier for high price, low environment impact and non-time dependable consignments.
Pro: Get to cycle to other countries to deliver parcels!
Con: Market research suggests that we would have exactly zero customers

Back to what we did before.
Pro: Good salary, job security, benefits package
Con: 9-5 in an office in front of a computer for 5 days a week

For a few dreadful moments both of us had our fingers hovering over the ‘apply now’ button on listings on some faceless recruitment website but there had to be another way.

Nearly two and a half years of cycling should have given us plenty of time to come up with a few ideas to make use of our skills in an enterprising way but to be honest we were so caught up with the whole process of actually cycling that a Grand Plan never really took shape. But in the cold light of a UK winter we began to piece together some of the things that we’d learnt throughout our journey and to mould them into some sort of business proposition.

The overwhelming feeling that we’ve taken from our journey is one of gratitude.  The number of people who helped us get from place to place, day after day runs into the hundreds. Using the theory of Karma we’re seriously in ‘good deeds’ debt. So lots more volunteering and charity work required for starters and perhaps some way to make other people happy.

People would sometimes ask if we ever got bored on our journey but the excitement of new experiences discovering different places never wears off. If we can offer something new and different to people then perhaps they too will experience that surge of excitement?

Being outdoors  and getting to enjoy nature in all its beauty at close quarters is something that enriches the soul and shouldn’t be underestimated. Not enough people take the time to do it and some people think they can’t when really they should and they can.

There’s a risk that smart phones and social media will soon replace conversations and physical communities. Ok, that’s a sweeping statement but almost every city in every country (except Pyongyang) we visited was inhabited by screen watchers who didn’t say a word to each other. It would be nice if there was some way to switch off and look up more often.

Adventure takes many forms and means different things to different people but one thing that I think is clear is that life is pretty dull without it. I’ve mentioned Al Humphries and his concept of Microadventures before and it’s still a fantastic idea. If we can help people squeeze a little bit of adventure  into their daily routine then  they’ll feel better for it.

Lastly we’ve seen a small sliver of how incredible our planet is but sadly we’ve also seen how easily it can be ruined. Minimising our impact on the environment is more important to us now than ever.

So how to wrap all this up into something that actually earns us enough to get by? After a couple of months living on my parents’ farm in the Vale of Evesham an idea took hold. It’s a beautiful part of the world made all the more special having been deprived of it for so long, and more people should be encouraged to visit. So we thought ‘let’s get people to sleep in our orchard!’ The idea needed some work but eventually The Orchard Getaway was born.

Borrowing from what we’d seen on our travels through Central Asia and after some fortunate browsing of eBay we became the proud owners of a yurt (actually a Mongolian Ger).  We added some bell tents and dusted off some dormant carpentry skills to set about providing facilities for people to be able to enjoy a stay in the country in comfort. It doesn’t sound much like the camping we were used to, but the point was that we wanted this to be accessible to anyone, particularly the ‘I don’t do camping’ set. How can anyone go through life without at least one night under canvas?? We hope our site gives them a glimpse of what sleeping outside has to offer: The sound of the birds, the fresh air, breakfast with the sun streaming though the trees, all with a hot shower and proper mattresses nearby.

So here we are today, running an off grid glamping site providing little camping adventures in Worcestershire.  We had no idea what would happen when we got back from our travels but this seems like a good place to have ended up. Our summer is set to be a busy one as bookings are filling the calendar fast but so far the whole experience has been thoroughly enjoyable. New skills learnt, a few challenges overcome and we’ve met some lovely people along the way. Not actually that far from a day on the bike really.  Feel free to drop by if you’re in the area and if you arrive on a fully laden touring bike then you can stay for free.

Is it enough to satisfy our own hunger for adventure though? They say that when the travel bug bites it bites down hard so we still catch ourselves scanning the roadside for nice places to pitch a tent whenever we’re out and about and browsing other cyclists’ travel blogs for inspiration. It’s also a contagious little critter so as we try to settle down several friends are setting off on their own amazing journeys (including these two). But the great thing about our new business is that it’s largely seasonal leaving at least a month or two over the winter available for going places. And a month on a bicycle is a huge amount of time.

How many times have you heard that well used cliche “Live for the moment”? Well we’ve lived through  some very unexpected moments during this trip. For instance the moment the front tyre went pop at a very bad moment in Turkey. The moment when Kirsty woke up to find an Uzbek taxi driver was massaging her feet. The moment I popped my head in the tent and told Kirsty the bike was gone. But for all the unexpected moments there was always going to be one that was guaranteed, the moment when the journey would come to an end. 

11th December to 13th December 2016

After a night being rocked to sleep at the back of the onboard cinema we step off the ferry in Plymouth surrounded by thick fog and a colourless, grey scene that could only be British. Things soon brighten up when we spot some Marmite sandwich vendors excitedly trying to get our attention. Is this how things work in this country now? Returning citizens are immediately welcomed home with cheers, hugs, Marmite and a fry up? Actually this is a special treat laid on by our good friends the Biscos but I think it’s something that the government should consider. Another special moment. 

After mopping up the remains of what can only be described as the best full English breakfast we’ve had for over two years we’re ready to get going again. More familiar faces arrive in the car park in the form of the Whitley family then we swerve from the right to the left side of the road before heading out into the town.

British roads are terrifying. There are queues of cars everywhere and the ones that aren’t queuing are driving at 100 miles an hour down roads that are barely wide enough to fit a mini. Ok it’s Christmas time and we’ve just come from Brittany where traffic only builds up when a farmer leaves a gate open and a few cows get out, but I don’t remember it being quite as bad as this before we left. A fellow cyclist comes alongside us and asks “Going far?”,  Kirsty replies: “Bristol” , “Really! Thats a long way!”, “We’ve been further….”.

We survive Plymouth and emerge onto a lane that begins to skirt round the edge of Dartmoor following the Dartmoor Way, part of the National Cycle Network. Our tyres crunch over wet, gritty tarmac, gaps in the high hedges on either side of us offer a glimpse to church steeples in the valley below, sheep munch away in the steep, rolling green fields. A scene and a road that could only be found in Devon and its simple beauty brings a smile to my face. Perhaps riding on this island isn’t so bad after all.

We pass through the villages of Didworthy and Badworthy then past Buckfast abbey whose Bendictine monks have been blamed for many a Scottish brawl fuelled by their fortified tonic wine. We refrain from stopping for a sample, partly to avoid the risk of any violent tendencies but also because we have any another roadside rendezvous to get to in Ashburton. It’s a sign of how long we’ve been away that we left Kat with an imminent baby under her maternity dress and now she’s in a similar state with her second one. We haven’t even met the first! She and Stu have had an exciting couple of years that have probably been as exhausting as ours. As we’re chatting away and munching on mince pie Danishes someone calls out my name from a car in the street. James and Jess have driven out to meet us too and join in the reunion. James advises that the last obstacle on the road ahead to Exeter is Halden Hill which he warns “…is a bit cheeky in places”.

Only in Britain can you see village names like Bovey Tracey and pedal up through a town called Chudleigh Knighton. Unfortunately we won’t be passing through my personal favourite, Nempnett Thrubwell.  But the smiles soon turn to grimaces as we hit Halden hill. We realise that “a bit cheeky” needs to be interpreted as “near vertical” as the chain dances over the chainrings into the lowest possible gear and we get to work winching up through the forest. The malfunctioning rear hub isn’t enjoying the strain and neither are we but somehow we get to the top in time to see the sun disappearing into the horizon.

I went to university in Exeter so there’s a strange feeling of familiarity as we dash down into the suburbs and circle around the city. We pass the university rowing club, scene of many a cold morning outing on the canal, and then continue on down now pitch black cycle paths to the home of Digz and Lisa. Our first night back in England couldn’t be better, staying with good friends, reminiscing, telling stories and enjoying a home cooked curry, our national dish.

Britain really does have world class weather. There’s nowhere else that can match it for drizzle, mist and what weathermen refer to as ‘overcast’. This soggy atmosphere accompanies us the next morning as we approach the Blackdown Hills.  Since we left in 2014 we’ve crossed the Carpathians, the Lesser Caucasus, the Pamirs, the Himalayas, the Japanese Alps, the Cascades, the Rockies and the Appalachians and this is the final major geographical obstacle that we have to negotiate before home. The lane narrows, the leg cadence drops and we slowly begin ascending. The bike isn’t happy, Kirsty’s knee isn’t happy but eventually we summit at Dunkerswell, some 256m above sea level and survey the views all around us. At least we would have if it wasn’t for the freezing fog that covers the whole village. As we park the bike outside the local shop someone asks “Going far?”, I reply “Bristol”, “Really!…”

As well as the weather, Britain is also a world leader in savoury snacks. I didn’t realise how much I’d missed sausage rolls, pork pies, pasties and scotch eggs until I saw the greasy display in the heated cabinet in the Dunkerswell Co-op. There’s nothing better than a steak slice to keep a cold hungry cyclist fuelled up.

It’s going to take more than some overcooked pies to get us home though. As we push down on the pedals they begin slipping forward without moving the bike. Every other pedal stroke it works then it begins slipping again. The Blackdown Hills seem to be the final straw for the hub. With only 100km left of the trip it looks like this could be as far as the bike can go and in frustration I’m ready to chuck it into the nearest ditch. But no, we can’t be beaten by a mere technicality like this. There was that moment when the front fork cracked in Tajikistan but we managed to get it welded (it still holds to this day). The moment when the old rear hub fell apart in Laos and we managed to find another wheel to get us up to Hanoi. There has to be a solution. Digging into the rear pannier I pull out the finest invention known to man: a bundle of zip ties.

For a long time I’ve been an advocate of the theory that there’s nothing that zip ties, gaffer tape and pipe clips can’t fix and once again this proves true. After some fiddling around and with the sprockets firmly secured to the spokes we manage to get the bike moving again. It’s not strong enough to cope with any hard pressure but with care on the flatter sections we can pedal along quite happily. Unfortunately we’re still in Devon so there’s no avoiding some lengthy pushes over the last of the hills. We make for a sorry sight as I struggle with the bike while Kirsty limps behind, her knee getting more and more inflamed with every step.

Finally the hills give way to the flatlands of the Somerset levels and we manage to get into Taunton, the next large town, only having to replace the zip ties once. Although the bike shop here would love to help, our requirements are just too specific to be able to fix it for us. Our ‘bombproof’ rear hub follows the rule that “The major difference between a thing that might go wrong and a thing that cannot possibly go wrong is that when a thing that cannot possibly go wrong goes wrong it usually turns out to be impossible to get at or repair.” (from The Hitchikers Guide to the Galaxy). Just up the road is St. John Street Cycles which just happens to be home of Thorn Bikes and is the birthplace of our own not-so-trusty steed, surely if anyone can help it’s them.

Begrudgingly we hop on a train for the 15km journey into Bridgewater and arrive shortly before the shop is due to shut. Our high hopes for a solution are quickly dashed when we’re told that they don’t have any spare wheels available for us to borrow. It seems even the largest tandem specialist in the country can’t help. “We can build a wheel up for you tomorrow if you like?”. Now with 60km left this sounds like a very expensive option so instead we ask for a fresh supply of zip ties and decide to continue tentatively on with the bodged solution.

Our last night on the road is spent in Burnham on Sea. A less than auspicious location nestled on the banks of the Severn Estuary but with some very appropriate hosts. Before we get to them however there’s time for a pint of Somerset’s famous Thatchers Cider with my brother Justin. We last saw him as he jumped into a taxi in Tbilisi after our week together cycling through Georgia and the moment of our reunion is full of emotion and laughs.

It turns out that Burnham on Sea is home to some original comedians. Not content with the industry standard “She’s not pedalling on the back!” hilarious jape, one observer shouts “Get yer own bike!” when he sees us ride past. This is by far the best tandem heckle we’ve heard to date so we have to congratulate him for making our day. Our final Warmshowers hosts for the night appreciate this joke too as Allan and Maggie have also travelled the world on a tandem. Being able to chat and share similar stories about the moments we’ve all experienced travelling on a bike made for two is just what we need to round off our last night.

I manage to squeeze a few more zip ties onto the wheel before we set off in the morning. This arrangement means we can change gear but we can’t stop pedalling. If we do, then the zip ties will break which we discover 1km after leaving Allan and Maggie’s house.  I attach a fresh set and then we’re off again. It’s the last day of a very long journey and it’s not far to Bristol now so the sights become more and more familiar. Up ahead we can see the top of Cheddar Gorge cutting into the top of the Mendip Hills, a classic road climb that I’ve scaled countless times. Today we’re looking for something a little less taxing for our route home though so make our way up to The Strawberry Line, an old railway line converted into a cycle path. Railway lines have the advantage of being as flat as possible so this serves our purposes perfectly. It also takes us past the home of Thatchers Cider in Sandford where we’re met by two cycling legends: Matt and Drew. Their warm welcome is aided by some complimentary glasses of the fizzy apple stuff fresh from the brewery. Somerset is to cider as Bordeaux is to wine, Porto is to port, Kentucky is to bourbon and Georgia is to chacha.

Our small and slightly wobbly peloton then continues on to Yatton, increasing in numbers when we meet two lads from Birmingham who are on a trip from Brum to Burnham and back. Aircraft strength zip ties are issued in Yatton by the Las Vegas Institute of Sport‘s very own Director Sportif Dylan who informs us that they are “Stronger than the ones used by police as handcuffs”.  The riding has been anything but hard so far today but I eat a chicken pie to keep my energy levels up just in case.

The roads we’re on now used to form my commute into work. I used to know every twist and turn and pothole but today it feels fresh and exciting and different again. Nick has joined us and we all make slow progress, counting down the kilometres. Even a railway bridge is enough of a hill to force us to get off and push so our lead-out men have to be very patient.

With what must be only 10km left to ride we get a a bit too excited, push a bit too hard and break all the zip ties again. The last batch get fitted and now we have to be extra careful as if these break then that’s it. We could walk in from here but that would be a disappointing way to end the journey. We crawl through Long Ashton then into Bedminster before we get our first view of the Clifton Suspension Bridge one of the most recognisable icons of Bristol. Another moment to capture and remember. A lump forms in my throat as we skirt around the docks, past the City of Bristol Rowing Club where Kirsty and I first met. Past the Cathedral where a car turns in front of us and comes close to knocking us off which could have been an even more disappointing way to end the journey. Unscathed we then roll down into traffic chaos in the centre of the city. It may have taken 54 zip ties and countless boxes of ibuprofen but it looks like the bike and its crew are actually going to make it.

Matt has not only been my wingman on many an adventure but he has also coached me through various races. I remember one piece of his sage advice quite clearly at this point and that is to remember to savour the finish line moment.  It’s easy to get carried away in those last few pedal strokes or footsteps and to not pay close enough attention to what is actually happening around you but it’s really important that you do. So much effort and time has been invested to get to that moment where you finally achieve your goal and if you blink you’ll miss it.

I reach behind me to find Kirsty’s hand as we gently spin up to the Roll for Soul Cafe, the place where it all began back on 16th August 2014, 851 days ago. This is the finish line, the end of the road, the completion of our journey.  We step off the bike for the last time and wrap our arms round each other. We’ve done it!

After this moment it all becomes a bit overwhelming. I’d almost forgotten that it’s my birthday so the celebration of getting round the world is combined with a celebration of another lap around the sun.  Friends arrive to share a few drinks, some have come a long way to join us and it’s amazing to see everyone. There are so many moments in our friends lives that we’ve missed that it’s going to take a long time to catch up properly. Technically we’re still homeless having not had the heart to turf out our tenants just before Christmas. It’s tempting to pitch the tent somewhere in the city but at the same time we’re grateful for the offer of a bed for the night from our friends Lynn and Dave.

Waking up in Bristol should seem very strange but at the same time feels surprisingly normal. We’ve become so used to adapting to new situations that it seems we’re able to settle into an old situation just as quick. But I think it’s going to take a long time to gather our thoughts about everything we’ve been through over the last 851 days. Behind us we can trace a tyre wide path that stretches full circle around the world and all along it are memorable moments.  So many places, views and countless amazing people. I’m not sure if linking up these moments into a continuous line makes the world feel smaller or the fact that it took a long time to ride around it makes us realise how big our planet is. One things for sure is that there’s a lot more to explore either side of that line and certainly a lot more moments left to live.

I’ll be back with the much requested list of statistics sometime soon along with an extensive list of thanks to everyone who made the journey possible or helped us along the way but for now we’ve got Christmas and New Year to celebrate. I hope everyone has a great festive holiday and wish you all the best for an exciting 2017. Thanks for following our adventure.

….and if anyone can guess the exact number of kilometres that we finished on then they get to choose five items from our bag of international single serving condiments.

16th to 29th August 2014

All bike rides have to begin with a single pedal stroke and on 16th August we finally turned the cranks and rolled away from Roll For The Soul in Bristol to begin our trip. It was a fantastic send off with a peloton of purple and gold LVIS jerseys escorting us to the city limits. There was even a stop for homemade fruit pies at Bitton to make sure we kept fuelled up for the day’s riding.

There hadn’t been a huge amount of sleep the night before thanks to the send off party. A truly brilliant night out with so many friends making the effort to come along and say goodbye and video messages from those who couldn’t make it. Thank you everyone who came along and all those who contributed to the gifts and e-card, we’ll read it often.

The exit route from England took us out to Bath where a broken seat post clamp was the first challenge of the trip. A mechanical failure is always frustrating but we had to be thankful that it happened just  half a mile from a bike shop and with support on hand from Kirsty’s mum we were soon back on the road again. Better that these things happen now.

From Bath we left the last remaining LVIS riders and heading through the Two Tunnels (probably the finest cycle way in the UK (well done Mr Tully)) and emerging out the other side suddenly felt like a huge weight off our shoulders. We were now properly on our way and on our own.

A night in the tent overlooking Stonehenge, then through  Winchester the next day with a good bench mark for impressive religious buildings being set by Winchester Cathedral.  The next night was spent next to a cricket pitch in a village on the South Downs but the only bats on display were flying overhead. The groundsman even congratulated us on our choice of camp spot when he discovered us in the morning.

Rolling down to the south coast the next day for our first view of the sea and a stop in Brighton with our friend Rona and cat Puzzle which was a very pleasant evening of good music, good food and catching up. We were then on our last day in England and it was a long day taking us all the way to Folkestone with our first proper climb of the trip over Beachey Head. Some people seemed to think we had packed light but gravity was telling us otherwise as we winched up the hills. At Folkestone I managed a dip in the sea before we dined out on a our last proper English curry for some time because in the morning we caught the train under the channel and into foreign lands at last.

We used the little known Channel Tunnel Cycle Service that is essentially a man  with a minibus and a trailer that collects travellers from the Folkestone Holiday Inn, and you and your bikes(s) are driven onto the train and then deposited near the Carrefour car park on the other side. Joining us in the van were the Doyles who were excited to be on their first ever cycle tour though their target destination of Bologne was a bit more modest than ours. After stocking up on cheese, we headed out through Calais towards Dunkirk. Calais itself was surprisingly pleasant but almost always bypassed by the tourists making a beeline for the port.

Our first long, straight road of many took us into Flanders, thankfully with a beneficial wind behind us. Turning off the main road at the end of the day we found the Dunes of Flanders and a vast stretch of sandy beach. After much hunting for good wild camp spot we relented and checked into a campsite that was mostly filled with ‘chalet style’ mobile homes complete with picket fences and well tended gardens.

Next day we crossed into Belgium and the Garmin sat nav led us along quiet farm roads towards Bruges. I had hoped to rely mostly on paper maps but the network of small roads and cycle paths in the next few countries meant that we quickly realised that we’d need lots of detailed maps, so we reluctantly left it to the technology to guide us. It worked very well on the most part all the way into Germany with only the odd unnecessary scenic detour. We have full European mapping loaded into it so it should be useful for a good while yet.

Entering one Belgian village a car came past us honking its horn then swerved violently over the kerb and onto the cycle path before jumping back on the road. In the process the bumper detached from his trailer and was left behind but he didn’t care as he’d done his bit to make sure that we knew that it was compulsory to use cycle paths in Belgium. I’d forgotten about that.

The narrow cobbled streets of Bruges were filled with tourists and horse drawn carriages, so we stopped for frites and mayo and looked at the main sights but didn’t stay too long. The tourist information office sent me to an Indian Cafe instead of a  Internet Cafe so we missed the chance to update the website.

Not far out of Bruges we found a beautiful avenue of trees next  to a canal which made for a great place to spend the night. More quiet farm roads took us into the moated town of Sluice. Unknowingly we’d entered the Netherlands but there was no sign to tell us, not even a flag but I guess that’s one of the joys of travelling in the EU. From here we would be following the North Sea Cycle Route which was well signposted and, if we wanted, could take us all the way to Bergen then back down through the  UK.

It should have been no surprise that the cycle routes in the Netherlands would be very effective and they didn’t disappoint. It would only take a complete rebuild of the entire infrastructure network and engendering a culture of using the bike as the primary form of transport for all generations and cycling could be as popular in the UK. That and putting the  whole country through a Corby Trouser Press.

A night by a beach and cooking dinner in the dunes went well until the the wind turned and sand blasted the entire meal. I crunched through it regardless but Kirsty wasn’t so keen. Riding on wide paths away from the cars became the norm but occasionally we strayed onto a road by mistake and the drivers immediately took it in turns to shout at us.

We crossed enormous dykes, saw plenty of windmills and wind turbines making our way up towards Amsterdam. On our run into the city we found ourselves by the side of a rowing lake that happened to be staging the World Rowing Championships. It all seemed very low key compared to when Kirsty and I volunteered at the same event in Eton Dorney in 2006 so we could watch some of the racing without a ticket. In Amsterdam we were staying with Jon, a University friend of Kirsty along with Lisette and baby Mia. They had all been unwell and we were warned that we may leave with an unwanted gift but we were willing to take the chance on the promise of a bed and shower.  We parked the tandem and borrowed Jon and Lisette’s town bikes which were much easier to pedal through the streets and over the canals. To the casual observer the mass of careering  bikes looks like an accident waiting to happen but, much like the Italian traffic system, as long as you continue in the direction you want to go with enough conviction everything else seems to move round you. It was great fun and by far the best way to see Amsterdam.

In the morning we loaded up the tandem again and crossed the city to meet Eric at his specialist touring bike shop. Despite being shut that day we had arranged via email for him to open especially for us so we could pick up a new USB charging device for our dynamo hub (the 2nd hand eBay version I’d bought had not worked properly since day 1). Having ridden over 200,000km through most corners of the world he had plenty of advice for us and also gave us a suspension seatpost to replace the temporary rigid post we’d bought for Kirsty in Bath. It wasn’t the right size but maybe we could get something to make it fit.

We had decided to try to get to Lübeck in North East Germany by the following weekend so that we could meet up with Kirsty’s Sister and family who happend to be on holiday there. Google had told us that it would be around 550km and mostly flat so while sat in the comfort of Jon’s flat this seemed entirely reasonable to cover in 5 days.

Pan flat roads should be a cycle tourists best friend but, much like a time trial, the tedium of being in the same gear without the need to adjust position left us aching pretty soon after leaving Amsterdam. 20km stretches of dead straight, featureless roads did nothing to boost morale so we were glad when we reached our target for that day and could get the tent up and stove on. The donated seat post was fitted using some shims made from an old drinks can. This was the third life for that particular can as after storing a high energy drink it was then home to a family of ants before finally making it into the frame of the tandem.

It was a damp and slow start the next day so we turned off the road soon to get free Wi-Fi and coffee at a supermarket. On the 2nd refill the staff felt sorry for us and brought out cakes too. Back on the bike and the bouncy seatpost seemed to be holding up and helping with the comfort levels. We leave the Netherlands as subtly as we entered and the only clue we’re now in Germany is the reduction in the number of cycle paths and the Audi’s that fly past don’t seem to mind that we’re riding on the road. We camp next to a small lake and I regret not swimming in the morning unlike a local who turns up to take in a lap in the mist.

There are now a few gentle undulations, enough to need a change up or change down of a gear or two and the riding is a whole lot more enjoyable as a result. We’re on a Megalithic trail and there are 5000 year old tombs every few miles to look at. Before finding somewhere to camp we always need to stock up on water and that night a local fire station agrees to fill up our bottles. I guess fire stations are always a good place to look for water. Our campsite that night is at the base of a huge wind turbine which lulls us to sleep with the swishing blades.

The fourth day of our cross Germany challenge takes us into Bremen. Every km ridden in a city takes at least twice as long as rural km -longer if the cafes are tempting. We work hard up till lunch and the bike is moving well. While eating our sandwiches another cycle tourist comes past, he is from Sweden and is riding from Hamburg to Barcelona. When we tell him we’re on our way to Sweden he says he hopes we get a ‘British Summer’. Not as bad as it sounds as it’s their phrase for an Indian Summer.

Next day we have just over 100km left to Lübeck but we have to cross Hamburg. It’s a huge industrial port and we find ourselves in amongst chimneys, cranes, freight trains and having to cross numerous bridges. At one point the whole place smells of burnt clutches, then fresh bread, then vinegar. A combination of the Garmin and Google maps gets us through eventually then it’s a case of counting down the kilometres.

By 4:30 we are at our destination in Bad Schwartau, the home of Doerte who is Kirsty’s brother-in-law’s sister, and her partner Björn. After a shower we are driven to Kiel to meet up with Kirsty’s sister Karen, brother-in-law Uli and the nieces and nephew. Along with Uli’s parents Heinz and Gisela they give us a fantastic welcome making the effort of the last few days well worth it.

We’ve gained a lot from those five days being stronger in body and mind but we’ve also learnt that it’s not the way to ride on a long tour. We didn’t have time to stop much and ended each day too late to be able to enjoy where we were. Some time in Lübeck should allow us to sort a few bits and pieces out, rest up and then continue north to Denmark but at a much more leisurely pace.

I thought unemployment would mean lots of lounging on the sofa in a slanket eating pot noodles while watching Jeremy Kyle but the last 3 weeks have left barely any time for sitting around at all.

The day after walking out of our respective offices we drove straight up to Glasgow so that I could start my first shift at the Sir Chris Hoy Velodrome volunteering for the Commonwealth Games. It was a great experience being right in the middle of the action and seeing what’s required for top level track cyclists to perform at their best. For the likes of England and Australia this meant a rack of shiny carbon fibre bikes in various shapes and sizes to suit different events, several coaches, a team manager, mechanics, soigneurs, PR specialists and physios all operating as a finely tuned machine to make sure that all the riders had to do was sit on the bike and win. For the likes of Bangladesh, for whom this was their first experience of a wooden track let alone a competition of that size, the whole operation was a bit more low key with one coach between them and the riders themselves helping each other out by carrying bikes and picking each other up off the boards when they fell over (which the entire team managed to do on the very first corner). However  I should think these smaller nations got a lot more out of being part of The Games than many of the track superstars despite not taking home any medals.

In the 2nd week Kirsty was handing out timing chips to the distance runners at the Hampden Park and had front row seats for a lot of the racing. Mo Farah was unable to compete and she was asked to take his place but unfortunately had forgotten her running kit.

While up there we practiced a bit of wild camping and pitched the tent in one of the city parks causing a few confused looks from the local dog walkers and early morning joggers. We also stayed with some lovely Warm Showers Hosts , Martin and Lena who joined us for the Opening Ceremony rehearsal and invited us to their local ParkRun complete with celebrity guest in the form of Steve Way. There was wild swimming in Loch Lomond with our friends Katy and Ed and we finished the 2 weeks staying with fellow LVIS members Gav and Elise.

Glasgow put on a great show not only with the friendliness and hospitality of the locals but also by organising surprisingly hot weather that left even the Aussies looking for shade.

After an overnight drive and quick stop off in Evesham to drop off some bikes we were back in Bristol and head long into the packing and cleaning marathon to get the house ready for our tenants/financial backers for the trip. It seemed to be never ending with boxes mounting up in the garage and me getting more and more nervous that it wouldn’t all fit into our storage container.

A great parting gift from Hydro was a 15’ insulated container with the plan being to collect it from Clevedon take it to Bristol where we would fill it with everything we own then send it up to Evesham where it could be stored on my parents’ farm. There were plenty of potential pitfalls in this plan such as the truck could get stuck on the access track in Clevedon, we wouldn’t fit everything in or the crane wouldn’t be able to lift it once it was filled up. However the previous sleepless night was unnecessary as it all went amazingly well with the house left (mostly) empty and almost all of our worldly possessions being waved off on the back of the truck. All to be replaced by 4 small panniers full of essentials.

Last weekend was the last chance for a family get together with a grand total of 9 nieces and nephews to entertain up at the farm. It was fantastic to see everyone and strange to think that the younger members of the family will have changed quite a bit by the time we see them again (the older ones may be a bit different too!).

All of this has left us exhausted and ready for a nice relaxing holiday riding through some pleasant parts of Europe and beyond. Saturday is the Grand Depart day!

noun

12 years working for the same company can probably be considered to be period of time of a distinctive character, at least in the context of my own life history, and so now that I’ve said my goodbyes to everyone at Hydro International it seems appropriate to say it’s the end of an era.

I guess this is how it must feel when you retire. After years of routine and walking around the same bit of carpet with a lot of the same people 5 days a week I suddenly won’t be doing that any more. It’s an odd feeling and something that probably won’t sink in properly for a good few weeks yet. Kirsty had been working for Zuken for 14 years so is trying to break an even stronger sense of institutionalisation. 10 of those years were spent sitting opposite the same person so he may have just as big an adjustment to make when a new face turns up for him to look at.

Unlike retirement though we’ll be starting another routine soon but this time without the weekly sales updates, monthly reports and annual general meetings. It’ll be nice to be spending less time staring at Windows Vista and more time exploring the vista outside the window but I’m sure there will be days when the thought of sitting on a warm and comfortable office chair instead of a hard, leather saddle may actually be quite appealing.

But first we’ve got another job to go to as we’ll be up in Glasgow volunteering at the Commonwealth Games for the next two weeks. Kirsty is on the timing team in the athletics stadium and I’ll be helping out in the ‘field of play’ at the velodrome. It’s a great way to be part of a huge sporting event and you can’t get much closer to the action! Look out for us on TV, we’ll be the ones in the red and grey uniforms.