The wind howled through the night, the noise of the wind in the trees sounding like a storm at sea. We were cosily wrapped up in our tent and it felt bizarrely comforting. However, with a forecast in the morning of 35 mile an hour WSW winds – a direction that would be dead against us – and 50 mile gusts that could knock us off our bikes, we reached the limits of even our madness.   One phone call to a guardian angel and our great friend Pete came to pick us up from the campsite. Before that, we re-learnt how to brew up coffee on our little stove under the fly sheet to keep the flame away from the tent sides.  We gradually packed ourselves up as our camping routine kicked back into action. 

Our phones were running low on battery and as we wanted to make sure we kept in touch with Pete, David went to the reception to ask whether he could plug his phone charger in. This was met with a blanket ‘no’ for the reason that the campsite was not insured for it, and they could face a claim for £1000 if phones went missing!  It felt like “jobsworth” on stilts, particularly as the campsite was virtually deserted and the phone in question was limping along after many years service. Serious were black marks against Hook Farm for lack of helpfulness as well as a total lack of understanding of the liability rules under the Occupiers Liability Act 1957. David thought about giving him the full law lecture about how insane this position was but decided life was too short.  However, that approach explains the need for 20p for the showers – same mentality.

When Pete arrived, we managed to dismantle the bikes enough to fit them, ourselves and all our kit into the car and soon we were on our way. Watching the trees bending in the wind confirmed that we were not just being wimps!

We then had a lovely day off with Pete and Jane in their new home in Budleigh Salterton – although not so new as they have been there for 6 months but this was the first time we were able to see them and were privileged to be their first guests staying inside after the lockdown. It was great to see them in situ, and admire all the changes they have made to the house in the short time they have been there.  Pete extended his driving kindness to taking Bernie’s bike for a 4^th attempt to sort the gears out at a bike shop.  Much musing resulted in the addition of a new bottom bracket, some improvement although David still had to do the last adjustments to get all the gears to work without the chain falling off).

We had a blowy walk along the estuary and the sea front, cream tea at home and a lovely evening meal – it will set us up for the next few days back on the road.

There is always at least one day on a cycling holiday when anything that can happen, does happen and the world seems against us.  That was today – but the good news is that I am writing this in a pub with a full pint, where we intended to be and having eaten a delicious one pot meal.  So what could possibly have gone wrong?

Well we started well – up, breakfasted and broken camp by 8am.  That felt good.  Soon after we started Bernie started to notice her gears were not working properly.  The new front shifter which the bike shop had put on yesterday was slipping, the gears were out and it was generally not as good as it should be.  I stopped, fiddled with the settings (front mecs not being my forte) and thought it was working.  But it was not. If anything it got worse.

The road was delightful but it was overcast and there was no sun.  The wind was not a problem to begin with but gradually it built through the morning.  Another half hour with me attempting to be a bike mechanic slowed us down but it was really difficult to mend the gears on the side of the road, but it was more or less OK.

We stopped for coffee in Dorchester.  It may be Dorset’s county town and Hardy’s birthplace, but it was cold, rainy and windy when we got there.  The cafe kept the door open for extra ventilation – which would have been fine in May but this was November (or seemed like it).

We ambled off – attempted further repairs and again the front mec on Bernie’s bike seemed fixed, but we had not taken the next 5km into account.  First there were the sheep – sheep you might say – what sheep?  The answer is the sheep on the only road out of Dorchester which were being steered from one field to another a mile away.  So we sat behind the flock cycling at sheep pace.  And as we went along slowly, so the weather got worse and the road became a track.  The track bounced the bikes around and, of course, bounced Bernie’s front mec out of alignment.  

We decided (a) to avoid gravel tracks until we got the bikes 100% and (b) get to a bike shop if we could to get Bernie’s front mec sorted, as it needed professional.  Those decisions meant that our only option was to head for Bridport on either minor roads or a seriously major one – opted for minor roads – mistake.

The road climbed a 15% hill up to 200m with a 20mph wind against us and driving rain.  At this point I wondered what lack of sanity meant that we were doing this for pleasure.  But the wind going up was nothing – I repeat nothing – compared to the wind over the top.  Full  blown blizzard (but hail not snow) and wind so strong that it picked the bikes up and strung them across the road.  It was a good job it was so quiet or we would have been toast.  

On the plus side, the scenery in this part of Dorset is staggeringly beautiful.  It was just that all we could see was waves of rain coming up the hills.  So we ambled on and the rain eased off and we made Bridport at 3pm.  If Dorchester was a disappointment, Bridport was not much better.  There were 3 bike shops listed.  The “Weelie Good Bike Shope” turned out to be a shed in someone’s garden – and the someone was not home.  The “Ride” shop was staffed by someone who had taken customer relations lessons from the DWP.  “No, he could not assist.  They had a single mechanic and there was a 5 day waiting list”.  So be it – it is their business and they can run it as they like.  But there is an informal understanding that passing cyclists are always given a bit of hand – but that “understanding” has not reached Bridport (or at least this part of Bridport).

Lastly we tried “Bridport Cycles” which, of course, is not in Bridport but a small village outside.  There we met the delightful Ron with his even more delightful dog Norman, a Spanish rabbit chasing white and brown dog.  He knew Bewdley, used to visit our friend Mark Young when he ran Overspoke, and was a generally good guy who restored our faith in the cycle trade.  He deserved lifetime free membership of the ACT (Association of Cycle Traders for the uninitiated).

We chatted, got Bernie’s bike up on the stand and worked on it between us.  I had eliminated all the simple problems and together we diagnosed the problem, refined the settings and it was “good enough”.  All 3 chain wheels worked and none scraped (or not too badly) and Bernie could change between them (with effort).  Mark Young may need to perfect things before our next trip but this should get us to Argyll.

Ron would take no money for his work – sorting out fellow cyclists and fellow dog lovers seemed more important to him.  We left him with thanks and genuinely wish him well in his endeavour to get all the over 65s in Bridport onto ebikes.

The next section was on main roads – so the downside is lots of traffic and even more trucks.  The upside is normally that the gradients are not that tough.  Here we had trucks and 15% gradients – and multiple ones as well.  The rain had eased off but the wind was as bad.

We struggled into Lyme, bought supper and then found the campsite; arriving at 6.30pm.  It was not too windy or rainy so we got the tent up and had a one pot meal – totally delicious.  No showers though because the chap who showed us around the campsite forgot the vital information that we needed 20p pieces for the shower.  The assurance that the now long closed shop kept a stock of 20p pieces was not worth a great deal.  

Then to the pub for a couple of pints and a blog-writing session.  A tough, difficult day with lots of frustrations but it’s amazing how quickly all that can be erased with a full stomach and pint in your hand. All seemed well in the end.

We woke to rain on the windows and got up and pottered around quietly, sorting ourselves out in the hope of not waking our hosts – suspect we failed but hopefully not too much.  The rain eased and we cycled across Winchester to have breakfast with our long standing friends, Tony and Liz/Helen.  Six weeks ago their 28 year old daughter had died – no medical cause has been found –it appears her heart had just stopped.  Their grief is deep but maybe not as raw as I would have expected, but they are facing a world they never expected or would never have wanted.  Rachel was wonderful and had 3 small children; her lovely husband Matthew also faces a life he never expected or would never have wanted. 

They were back from Rachel’s Cambridge College where she was a choral scholar; the chapel had put on a memorial service.  It could have been too much for others but their faith is rock solid and they are trying to make sense of these terrible events.  It was good to share time with them even in these difficult times; they remain so important to us and – we hope – us to them.

We cycled off with slightly heavy hearts but it was soon too beautiful to be thinking of death.  The lanes going south from Winchester were lovely and the sun was out.  Then a section of the route hit main roads as we ambled towards Romsey.  There are so many cars, vans and trucks in the South East of England!  I suppose all this prosperity causes traffic but I was not sure why they had to all be out on the road at the same time as us!

Romsey was forgettable but the route soon took us towards the New Forest.  The road ambled through the open countryside – lots of wild ponies with odd clumps of trees.  It was very different to the dense woodland of the Forest of Wyre where we live. 

Then a new experience – gravel riding.  For the uninitiated (i.e. us until yesterday), this is riding on gravel tracks with unpredictable surfaces.  It is quite a challenge when there is any weight on the front wheel and there is no rolling effect to ease the journey – so it adds up to hard work, especially as the trail went uphill. 

But the upside is that it was quiet, beautiful and peaceful.  We stopped for a sandwich lunch – Tony and Liz had given us hard boiled eggs from their chickens and – with a bit of squeezed mayo – these tasted like a 4 course meal at the Ritz. 

Then we cycled into Ringwood leaving the delights of the New Forest behind us.  A few repairs at the excellent bike shop in Ringwood and then the relief to hear Becky had exchanged contracts and so would be moving to her new home in Bristol.   We ambled off with smiles on our faces towards a stop for tea in Wimbourne Minster.  Thought about looking round the Minster but it was already getting late so we pressed on to reach the campsite at Wareham. 

Long day – 93km and started later than usual but our pressing thoughts were on Rachel – a very full and varied life cut tragically far too short.

Today began a little gloomy but with the promise of both sunshine and rain – the question was the proportion.  We had no idea but we set off after saying our goodbyes to our wonderful hosts.  

The first part was flat as we ambled across the flat coastal plain towards Chichester.  It was a “B-road” but anything but quiet.  A steady stream of cars patiently waited behind us and then overtook when it was safe and they could give us enough space.  Most British drivers have become far more cycle-friendly in recent years; there is always the impatient one but the vast majority are prepared to wait the few seconds needed to avoid a close shave. 

The final route to Chichester was along a canal toe path.  We passed a young woman taking her pug dog for a walk in a pram.  There is a story behind every sighting and we don’t say “surely the dog would prefer to walk”, mainly because she was engrossed in a telephone call at that point (or possibly all the time).  It amused us anyway.

The city was lovely in the morning light.  Faded splendour along the High Street and then we stopped at the Cathedral.  It was 9.30am and it did not open until 10am; but it seemed open and so we ambled in.  A beautiful peaceful space, mixing ancient walls with modern art.  There was a Graham Sutherland portrait in a side chapel and stunning tapestries behind the alter that exuded colour to whole building.  The nave was empty of chairs, perhaps showing that the thousands don’t attend on a Sunday.  These buildings are the symbol of a collective faith that has now left us as a country.  They are monuments to past ways of seeing the world – not necessarily better or worse – but no longer with us.

After Chichester the route wound through a series of wonderful villages and back lanes.  We glimpsed the occasional country pile with obligatory tennis court and then wound our way to Rowlands Castle.  This is a slightly mythical place for both of us as we spent our childhood years commuting to school by train.  Hence we learned the names of the stations all the way down the line to Portsmouth but, of course, never visited them.  Rowlands Castle was one of these but we had no idea who Rowland was and why he had a castle.  Better than that it had the superb Bubblebee café – excellent coffee and our favourite meal ‘second breakfast’. 

From Rowlands Castle we climbed up a beautiful wooded valley towards Petersfield and then skirting westwards past the town.  We hardly saw a car for about 20km. We had lovely sunshine interspersed with a couple of sort showers. Then our second sightseeing stop of the day at Hinton Amphner.

As we started strolling round the gardens the heavens opened but we were able to shelter in the little shop. The rain stopped as quickly as it started and we continued round the lovely garden with magnificent views over the Downs.  The final stretch was along a lovely river valley to arrive at Winchester.

The overwhelming memory of the day was of colour.  All the trees were in new leaf and an incredible array of greens.  There were bluebells, vivid yellow fields of Rape, the white ‘candles’ of horse chesnuts and reds and maroons of magnificent copper beaches.  Here, pink and red of arrays of tulips. Clouds of the whole pallet of greys broken by bright blue skies.  All twinkling and glittering from the recent rain. All stunningly beautiful.

In Winchester we stayed with David’s godson Stephen and wife, Katie (about 8 weeks to go to the birth of their first child).  The day ended by going out to a lovely restaurant…..sitting inside!  Good food and a lovely evening. 

Days pass slowly when preparing for a trip.  Endless sorting, arranging and preparing has to happen and the day when we start never seems to get any nearer.  But it has finally arrived. 

On Saturday I got my second Covid vaccination.  Only time will tell if this is a passport to freedom or a temporary licence before the next virus variant arrives and we all go back into lockdown.  

Then on Sunday we put the panniers on the bikes, hugged Becky (who was up to see us off) and set off, cycling from home to Kidderminster station.  Of course, the heavens opened and rain descended on us aplenty.  We arrived duly soaked.  This is cycling in the UK.  We have cycled through hardly any rain on our trips in the last few years as we have chosen “dry seasons”.  There is no such thing in the UK – rain has the potential to fall throughout the year.  It is just mildly warm rain in the summer (at least that is what we hope). 

Drying out on the train we ambled towards Birmingham on the Chiltern line – masks duly worn.  Once we reached Snow Hill the train stopped and the guard informed us that a death on the line at Haddenham had, in effect, closed the line.  This type of news always sets off mixed emotions.  Sadness for a person we have never met who chose to take his or her own life – imagining the private hell in the mind before that happens.  However, that is tempered by the immediate recognition that our travel plans need to be changed. 

Luckily there are 2 train lines to London from the second city and so we cycled across to New Street and presented our tickets to the barrier staff who seemed to know that Chiltern service was suspended and they had to accommodate the oiks who had opted for cheaper services on their fast (but expensive) “Avanti” trains.  I still think of this as the Virgin line but, of course, they lost the contract to run the service a few years ago due to having a deficient pension fund.  I imagine the accountant who thought that was a good way to save a few millions is now pursuing career options elsewhere. 

But the main line was much busier and we felt a tad uncomfortable being in close-ish proximity to so many people.  The virus has led to social distancing and that has changed the mindset. However, we persevered and were soon on the way.  As we headed to London, Bernie decided (rightly) we should do lateral flow tests to check we were virus free and so we did the checks.  

Then to Lewes on the train and a reunion with Bernie’s sister and her husband and our two nephews.  It was great to see them and catch up.  we have not seen them in person for 18 months although they have observed us growing older on zoom at regular intervals. They are busy planning for Katie’s wedding next weekend. Unfortunately numbers are still restricted to 30 so our attendance will be restricted to zoom. We hope they have a wonderful day. 

We left at about 8.30am the following morning – all packed up and ready.  First stop was Tescos in Lewes for lunch stuff and then adjustments to Bernie’s gears.  Train travel always seems to put out the gearing and so fiddling with the settings is needed.   

Lewes is a lovely town (home to the famous Professor Chris Whitty I am told – everyone has to live somewhere) but the hills in the town are mega steep.  Town planners please note – having 18% hills in the middle of a town is pretty anti-social for cyclists.  A little planning and forethought would be appreciated, particularly as we were hardly warmed up.  But the architecture made up for the gradient.   

Then off along a route to the North of the downs.  Most of the roads go north-south around here and so there is a limit to the number of east-west roads as we cycled with these hills on our left hand side.  Some were delightful minor roads, with hugely expensive houses and well-kept gardens which we peeped into as we passed.  Others were more major roads.  The South East of England is, of course, densely populated and there are lots of cars, vans, trucks and even a few tractors.  Most commercial vehicles gave us a fair berth but some 4×4 drivers do not seem to understand the width of their own vehicles.  In a famous scene from Ben Our there is chariot racing in ancient Rome where some of the chariots had bits sticking out of the axles which they then steered into an opponent to cause mayhem.  There are times when I feel the paintwork of a close passing 4×4 could do with the same treatment. 

We stopped for coffee at a beautiful pub, nestling at the foot of the downs.  There we met 2 women riders from the Brighton Mitres cycling club who were sussing out rides as leaders of women only cycling trips.  They were great company and were full of stories about life on the road.  To our slight embarrassment they insisted on buying our coffee for us – we can just about cope with that level of embarrassment!  If either are reading this – thanks, happy cycling and it was a pleasure to meet you. 

We ambled on towards Steyning, at which point there was a cloudburst.  Raining in Steyning!  It cleared and we pottered on and, just outside the village we climbed a delightful minor road towards a large country house.  But the road finished at Wiston House, in Wilton Park, a manor house maintained by the Foreign and Commonwealth Office for international diplomacy events.  They may be able to sort out world peace here but they could, may I suggest, do that without closing the road and causing cyclists to have to divert back about 5km into the village!  We meekly obeyed the disembodied voice on the entry-gate who told us that entry was verboten.   

We reached Storrington for a sandwich lunch – memories of coming here to see the Bishop of Arundel and Brighton in a former life came back to me as we sat on a bench in the sunshine.  Lovely village but lots of traffic. 

Then we made our mistake of the day.  When planning this ride I had set the route to go along a gravel track to avoid a major hill.  It was still a minor hill but much smaller.  But I had misremembered and thought it was the other side of Arundel.  So, we carried on along the road to avoid the little hill and tackled the much bigger hill instead.  At one point we stopped and looked back to a sign which said the hill we had just climbed was 17%! But the good side of this was a glorious descent.   

It was lovely and sunny as we pedalled into Arundel, passing the cathedral, castle and a priest floating along the pavement in full top to toe garb (giving the distinct impression of moving on wheels of course).  Legs were feeling weary but we had the glorious moment of being able to go inside a café for the first time in so many months and had tea and delicious cakes.  

The next section was flat and sunny – but wind against us of course – but part was along the coast. We arrived at old friends Al and Catherine for a lovely evening and delicious home cooked curries. A great ending to our first day on the road and the first real day out in the world. 

After not posting anything on this blog for over a year, we are on the cusp of getting the wheels turning again.  So much has happened in the world since we last posted in March 2020 after our return from Thailand, but we are ready to start cycling again. The pandemic has changed us all in ways we could not imagine – it is possibly the defining event for our generation just as the Second World War was the defining event for our parents’ generation.

On Monday, getting towards being “demob happy”, we start out on our “Round Britain Quiz” cycle ride.  Not quite the next leg to Australia but that’s on hold for the moment due to the pandemic (and may indeed be on hold for ever depending on how things turn out).

But we live in a fascinating country, deep in history but with lots of rain.  So over the next 5 weeks we are going to be exploring the nooks and crannies of England, Wales and Scotland as we amble from Sussex (deep South East of England for those reading this from abroad), to Devon (South West England) and then through the beautiful and lesser known parts of Wales. 

Then we plan to cycle across England to the Peak District (roughly in the middle of the country), north to the Yorkshire Dales and across to the wonders of the Lake District.  From there we will travel North to Scotland (or “Nicolaland” as it is now known) where we hope to get in without a passport, and amble our way around the south-west borders and up to Argyll, where we will end by staying on the smallest and most perfectly formed Island off the Scottish Coast.

We can promise you a colourful cast of characters along the way – our route takes in stays with so many friends and family members that this is a key part of the joy.  We have all been locked down in isolation for the last year and are looking forward to relearning the delights of conversation, shared laughs and the fun of company.

So please come with us on the domestic jaunt.  We love your company and enjoy your feedback.

Just a short piece to let you know that we made it safely back home.  It was a bit hairy getting out and involved being slightly ahead of the wave of restrictions, but we managed it and are back home.  Bernie is on her way back to work as a doctor to meet the needs of patients in the current crisis and David is under huge demand as the legal consequnces of the pandemic work themselves out.  So this is a short piece – we have to concentrate on other things at the moment but look forward to a time when we can return to cycling, travelling and the good things in life.  Meanwhile, isolating back at home, totally dependant on our wonderful friends and family and just trying to do our bit amongst the chaos.

Apologies that the blog has not been updated for the last few days but we have been in turmoil and can now report that this particular adventure is coming to a premature end.  We were already worried about whether to come home to offer help to our families and others as a result of the Coronavirus pandemic, but the decision was made for us when Malaysia closed its borders on Monday.

So we have made it to Trang and have tickets for the overnight train to Bangkok.   Hopefully, we will then get a flight back to the UK.

Thanks for reading and sharing this journey with us.  It has been really special even if shorter than we hoped.  However, given the very serious challenges that people are facing all over the world as a result of Coronavirus, the premature end of our cycling trip is totally irrelevant.

Hopefully we will have the time to post a reflective piece over the next fews days, but until then – this is us signing off.

The first day of our third week in Thailand.  Today started with the 5am alarm – despite the fact that we had had a series of family calls at 3am about lost keys.  We tried to help with that crisis, failed and so a large bill was incurred.  Less said about that, the better.  Anyway we felt remarkably unaffected at 5am and even less at 6.10am when we finally set off after the resort provided an early breakfast of coffee, toast and yogurt with muesli.  The first few km were up and down with road surfaces that were fine – and we even stopped to examine a rubber tree that had recently been tapped, with the white rubber continuing to run out gently.

The road was undulating, running through jungle and yet surprisingly populated.  This is “ribbon development”, Thai style.  There is thick jungle half a mile each side of the road but parts of that corridor are cleared and developed with rubber plantations, banana groves or coconut plantations.  The road topped out at about 130m, after which it was downhill, largely with the wind to the town of Phang Nga.  The last 4 km were around the hills and back facing north, so we battled the wind that had been behind us for the last 30km – though of course we hardly recognised that there was a wind when it was in our favour.  There is a motto for life generally there but I will leave it to others to work it out.

The manager of our hotel spoke good English and arranged a boat tour for us to the bay with majestic cliff type structures jutting out of the sea.  We opted for a private tour – a bit expensive – but enabled us to control the timetable.  Our boatman was a young man and his wife and 2 children came along as informal tour guides – as it was the school holidays.

The photos do not quite do justice the beauty of the bay, but they are better than any words.  The highlight of the tour was “James Bond Island” – part of the set of the 1974 film, “The man with the Golden Gun”.  The film got mixed reviews with Roger Moore as Bond but  Christopher Lee‘s portrayal of Scaramanga as a villain of similar skill and ability to Bond was generally praised.  Thailand is still milking the connection 45 years on.

Perhaps the highlight was the mangrove swamps, where trees with roots in the salty water thrive.  On the way back we saw an 8ft python swimming yards from the boat – elegant but dangerous (just like us I suppose – that is a joke in case anyone does not know us).

Back to the hotel and supper at a local restaurant where the service was erratic but the food was good when it eventually came.

It was a luxury to wake at dawn but sit quietly looking at the spectacular view across the lake emerge, rather than busy ourselves getting ready to cycle.

The ‘dawn safari’, with a 6.40, start thwarted about half the group so there were some advantages at being used to being up early. After a quick coffee we were back in the boat – again perfectly timed to see the sun peak above the mountain top.  .

Low cloud drifted across the lake and enveloped the mountain peaks.  It was a magical scene morning we saw long tailed macaques, lemurs, gibbons, hornbills and a variety of other unidentified birds.  Although monkeys are seen quite commonly on the road or attached to temples it was completely different seeing them in their natural habitat.

Back for breakfast and then the main trip of the day.  A walking trip into the jungle to Nam Ta Lu cave.  We were warned we would get wet!  Another 20 minute boat trip took us to the start of the trail – or in fact about 1km down from the official start as the water level was so low the boat could not get that far. However soon we were walking through thick jungle with bamboo, enormous fig trees and a huge variety of vegetation.  A variety of spiders and butterflies were pointed out, as were the occasional chameleon. Although there are some big beast in the national park it was unlikely they would ever come to one of the few tourist tracks.

At a junction in the path we were advised to leave our bags and keep one camera that would be put in the guide’s dry bag when we got wet. We trekked on another 1.5km to the mouth of the cave where we were all handed out headtorches.  No lit up walkway here. It was a cave that was used by communists in the area about 30 years ago, although now free of any dissidents!

Instructions given, we headed off in single file through the most brilliant cave excursion we have ever done. Everyone’s head torches lit up fantastic rock formations and stalactite and stalagmites as we waded along a small river.  For the first few hundred meters, the walls were dotted with thousands (or probably millions) of bats.

As we ventured further the bats disappeared and the cavern narrowed and we plunged into our first deeper water, up to our waists.  A narrow channel twisted and turned as we went in and out of deeper water, sometimes needing to swim short distances.  After about 45 minutes we suddenly saw daylight and emerged through a small hole back into sunlight and the jungle. It was an amazing experience.  For some (particularly the “larger” members of the group) it was quite a physical challenge but they were encouraged through and the whole group was elated.

Then back through the jungle, back in the boat and a quick lunch before we were fairly unceremoniously ushered out into the main boats back the dam so they could be ready for the next group. As David mentioned yesterday, we were slightly processed but it was all very efficient and friendly and the tour company packed in loads into the 24 hour trip.

At the other end, everyone had their onward transport arranged and we were soon back in our little van being taken back to the hotel at frightening speed to be reunited with our bikes and kit.  It was about 3.30 by then and we weren’t about to set off again so we booked ourselves back into a bamboo house to plan our next stage.  All in all a fantastic interlude.

We mooched around in the morning, sorting out the stuff for our mini-trip and then having a relaxing breakfast.  The morning drifted along and a small van came to pick us up at about 10 to take us to the Ratchaprapha Marina – about 5km away, which was the start of the boat trip.

Once we arrived, we had to find the “Smiley Group” – the tour group we had signed up with.  That was more difficult than it sounded  amongst the hundreds of tourists who arrived in minibuses, were herded like sheep onto a pontoon and then send out into the lake on narrow boats with covers to keep them from the strengthening sun. Suddenly, after paddling our own canoes (or cycling our own bicycles) for 2 weeks largely on our own, we were in “tourist-land” – big time.  We were told to wait and so waited but the time ticked well past 10.45am with no sign of any Smiley Group.

Indolence went to panic amongst the men who did not appear to have a job other than to tell jokes to each other, smoke and tell tourists to wait.  They started gesticulating that we might have missed the boat – literally – and pointed us towards the massed ranks of tourists milling around the water’s edge.

After running along the pontoon, establishing that none of the boats about to leave were the  “Smiley Group”, we eventually found our “group”, and were told to sit down to wait again. About an hour later, we were herded onto the pontoon, on to a longboat and were off.

The reservoir was created by the Ratchaprapha dam which was started in 1982. Its purpose includes electricity generation, irrigation, flood control, and fishing – and now tourism. It was inaugurated on 30 September 1987 by which time the Cheow Lan lake covered 71sq miles or 185 sq km, and has a depth of over 100m in places.  To put that in context, it has a surface which is over 15 times bigger than Lake Windermere. The scenery was stunning with jungle coming down steeply to the sides of the lake, and trees poking out in places.  The lake was low at this time of the year, and fills up when the rainy season starts in June.  There were a huge variety of trees and other vegetation on the banks, as well as huge rock faces coming up directly from the water.

After about an hour we reached the “Smiley Raft House” – which was a series of raft buildings tacked together with a club house in the middle.  We got allocated a simple room (electricity but no AC) and were left to enjoy ourselves for the afternoon.  Our fellow travellers were almost all Europeans, and were a mixture of Dutch, Swedish, Lithuanians, Germans and Russians (plus a few we did not identify), as well as a nice retired Canadian couple from Vancouver who were fleeing the damp and cold of winder in Canada.

We swam in the lake – refreshing but a bit more like a bath than a lake swim – and canoed across to the other bank and amongst dead trees poking through the lake surface.  Then we went on a boat trip to see wildlife – somewhat difficult in a boat of 20 people and a loud engine.  But we stood on the back with binoculars and got a great sight of hornbills flying majestically across the upper reaches of the forest.  There were also a variety of monkeys and the occasional gibbon, swinging Tarzan like from tree to tree.

As we returned, the sun set across the lake (they get the timing right because they do this every day).  Then back for communal supper and finishing my book – William Boyd’s “An ice cream war” about the British/German war in East Africa as part of the First World War.  Great writing and brought home the utter stupidity of this (as all) conflicts.

A different day to being on the bike but really good.

We were even more efficient at getting up this morning and when we left a 5.50am it was definitely still dark. The town however was awake as we pedalled our way out and soon the sky began to get light. We had a few kms on the main highway and then turned off, turning west this time to head across towards the other side of the Thai peninsular. There were subtle changes in the landscape – still coconut and rubber being the main crops but the road gradually got more and more undulating.

Nothing very steep but our legs are used to flat. After about 35km we came across an unprepossessing little town that had a great coffee shop. Iced cappuccino is my current tipple of choice!

As always the day began to heat up. The road was still up and down, up and down and we had lost any sea breeze a long while ago.

Mountains began to loom up ahead and the scenery was beautiful but it was starting to get hard going. Luckily we reached our destination about 12. A village at the far end of Lake Chiew Lan by the Ratchaprapha dam. We had booked into a little hotel by the river opposite a spectacular rock face.

Our room was in a bamboo building. For the first time we had no a/c so we lay down and melted for a couple of hours while the fan pushed around hot air and we tried to rehydrate. I took about 3 showers to try and cool down!

By 3.30 it was getting bearable again and we swam in the river, which was blissfully cool and had no crocodiles (or at least none we saw). There was a small roped off area by the bank – essential as we could see a mighty current in the centre of the river. By 4.30 we felt ready to cycle the 4km into town to buy some food. Although it almost as cheap to eat out, we like cooking for ourselves reasonably regularly as it can become a pain to constantly be looking for somewhere and deciding what eat. Tonight was therefore a vegetable and egg green curry which David cooked in our little stove. Delicious. As we sat and ate on our balcony it got dark and we could see a lightening storm in the distance….but no rain here.

Tomorrow we are off on a 3 day tour where a boat takes us far along the lake to the middle of nowhere – no electricity, no internet, no mobile signal. We have booked 2 nights staying on the lake where we are hoping guides will take us on walks into the jungle etc. We are looking forward to some time of the bikes and getting away from everything. Like many people we have become rather obsessed with coronavirus and looking up what is happening in Europe and this part of the world so it will be nice to be forced just to read some good books and see, we hope, some spectacular scenery. We will be back in touch in a few days!

Today sort of worked as a cycle touring day.  We got up at 5 and left by 6am, when it was just still dark.  It was largely flat riding today – lots of roads where we could see for miles – and some mountain scenery at the side. Roads quiet and beautiful.

We cycled until 98km until about 12.30am, when we arrived at our destination, a town called Chaiya.  It is described as “sleepy” in the Guidebook and I can see why.  But we found a cheap but clean hotel and dived into an air conditioned room (cost £10 for the night) and had a snooze.

At 4pm we went out on our bikes to look at some famous Buddhist wats (i.e. temples and monastic centres) which were hugely impressive and had a contemplative feel about them.  We then did some shopping (sorry for the garish shirt that will come up in future photos), planned the next few days and then had dinner with a fellow cyclist who was staying the same hotel.  We exchanged views on cycling, travelling, life the universe and everything and, perhaps inevitably, on Covid-19.  She had been on the road for 8 months in a variety of places including China.  It was an unexpected and fascinating evening to round off a really excellent day – even if one where there is not a vast amount to report.

The rest of the day can be shown by pictures and videos – far better than words.

Today was a day that did not go exactly to plan but worked out fine nevertheless.  After overstretching ourselves a bit yesterday we resolved to have a short day with fewer hour directly in the sun.  We were in a nice hotel with breakfast included so had a proper breakfast and set off about 7 rather than out usual 6am. David had found a lovely looking homestay at the tip of a little peninsular about 45km away so that’s where we were headed.

The road was again beautiful and quiet.  Coconut, rubber and banana trees in abundance.  We passed through small friendly villages but hardly through so much as a town. It was glorious riding.   We made our way down the last 2km track to find the homestay but unfortunately when we got there they announced it was closed (it was still showing available on booking.com!). Undeterred there was another homestay on the other side of the peninsular, only a few km away but up a very steep hill – first time pushing the bikes up this holiday!  This time it was down an even smaller track that opened into a beautiful bay.  Unfortunately the homestay, which was the only building on the bay, was locked up. It was such a lovely spot that we decided we would camp but we were unprepared for that and had no food so we pedalled off again in search of provisions.  We found a tiny shop a few km further on but it had so little in that we could not even find enough to rustle up a meal (although we would have been fine if we wanted to buy 20kg of rice or any amount of toiletries!).  By the time we pedalled a bit further we had gone full circle and we were back where we started so gave up on the idea of a half-day and pedalled on south.  If anything the road was even quieter, undulating along the coastline.  But the 2 hours we had wasted earlier meant we were at that crux time of the day – at about midday – when the thermometer hit 39 degrees.  We managed another 18km to the next ‘town’.  There were 3 hotels marked on googlemaps but 2 were closed.  Luckily the third had someone there.  The accommodation was in rather shabby bungalows but perfectly sufficient for our needs and was right by the seashore.

After hiding from the sun for a couple of hours and recuperating we cycled the 2km into the town centre – little more than a village really but charming and friendly.  We felt a world away from the upmarket seaside resorts we had been through further north, where there is a 7/11 or Tesco express round every corner.  Here it is small grocery stores with simple provisions but we found plenty of fresh veg, a chicken leg (all the meat comes frozen) and noodles.  We had several attempts to find bread, with the help of googletranslate, but eventually were told it was not being delivered until 5.30.

Back to the ranch for a swim in the sea – the bay so gently receding that we walked for ages to get up to our waists.  Again a huge swathe of sand, lined with palm trees and little islands dotted in the bay – and not another soul to be seen.

A trip back into town found that bread still had not appeared so gave up on that idea – it will have to be noodles for breakfast Thai style.

We cooked outside on our little stove, certain that we were the only guests. It does seem very much out of season now, which surprised us, but maybe it wakes up more as a weekend destination.

There is a really good reason why we have never tried to cycle 120km in a day in the first week of any of our tours – it is because we are not strong enough to do so! But today we had little choice apart from having a long day because of where accommodation was located and our feeling that we were not yet ready to camp as we still needed to get out of the heat and humidity at the end of the day.

The day did not start brilliantly as the routes had not made their way on the cycle computers (Wahoos for those of geekish disposition). The reason was probably the fact we were working off a very weak wifi signal and it just did not play ball. Technology is great when it works but evil when it fails us. Anyway 30 minutes of IT faffing sorted it. By now it was 6.45am and we had lost most of the first hour of sunlight. It was also predicted to be several degrees hotter than yesterday, so we were already slightly concerned as to how the day would work out.

The first 40km were great – quiet roads, often cycling through shaded coconut groves. Then we hit the pleasant little town of Bang Saphan. Just outside was the first hill – not just of the day but the first since Bangkok. It was only about 60m of climbing which was nothing for anyone from Worcestershire. But Worcestershire does not have 30+ degree heat and high humidity at 9.30am (or possibly never).

We struggled to the top – the 4% gradient feeling much steeper. Then down and into more quiet countryside on the way south. By about 11.30 it was stiflingly hot – the Wahoo said 43 degrees C and the constant up and downs were getting to Bernie in particular. She began to feel that distinctive type of “cyclist’s head in the heat” which we have all experienced but none of us can describe. Eventually we found a small shop with a seating area. It sold egg-fried rice in pre-sorted containers for 25 baht – about 60p. Delicious and filling – and gave time for Bernie to cool a little. But the prospects of getting much further seemed low – and I was pressing her to agree to find a hotel by the beach and sit it out.

But Bernie is made of stern stuff and overcame her nascent heatstroke (which it was not) and – with me taking one of her panniers – insisted on pressing on. The wind had got up during our lunch and that, combined with 50% less luggage, gave her a new lease of life.

We ambled along and gradually made our way to Chumphon (not Trumpton as I keep referring to it).

Then the unexpected highlight of the day. After resting and shopping we went out to eat but found the restaurant we wanted to try was closed. On our way back across town another way we came across “OK Buffet”. This was a really busy, all you can eat Thai wonderland.

They plonked a bucket of steaming coals on our table and then put a contraption on top which had a moat for creating your own Pho (vegetable or fish soup) and for cooking meat freshly on top. All the ingredients were available and customers cooked their own meals – going back as often as you wanted for more.

After nearly 120km in the saddle, we were tired and hungry and this was ideal. It was also great fun though we did feel a little “on show” as the only non-Thais in the vast restaurant and with staff regularly having to correct our lousy cooking techniques. But, after lots of laughs and failures, we got there and had a brilliant meal. Needless to say, the OK Buffet is not in any Guide Book!

Coming back we passed a few (empty) hostess bars, showing the seedy side of Western tourism in Thailand. We have seen little evidence of his to date but it remains a sad part of this otherwise brilliant country.