All too soon it’s time to get up and away from the comfiest bed and head north up to Skegness. There would be a special guest star appearance by a cyclist who I rode the 2009 Land’s End to John O’Groats challenge with, but Clive would be waiting to rendezvous after about 25 miles. This meant I’d need to get on with things, not least because I’d said 0830 was a goer…and I hadn’t quite factored-in the rolling terrain in between Holt and Hunstanton!
And away…with a banana or two!
A very welcome sight. The sun, not my armpit.
Best time of the day? No, not reading this rubbish: I mean sunrise!
The roads were quiet and the progress okay but I was still ten minutes late to meet Clive- still it had been a few years since we had met so no harm done.
Tough love from the critics re this blog, hah-hah!
Great to meet again!
The route would snake through Sandringham Estate and on to King’s Lynn, where Clive suggested a stop…I was more than happy with that as breakfast was a couple of bananas eaten while mobile.
Probably not featuring on tonight’s Acco Watch!
Fantastic for a few miles…
Far-out mile marker.
Hit the spot, big time.
Spied in King’s Lynn. No idea.
From KL it was a wind-assisted trundle through to Boston, where we would part company…but not before taking on a few more calories. I am sure the majority of Lincolnshire is as charming as anywhere, but there was a section of maybe 30-odd miles with not a vast amount going on…save cabbage growing and that lovely southerly wind blowing. This is my way of saying that there ain’t so many photos, good or otherwise!
Latest Ineos Grenadier SUVs released.
Quite the gate guard for some loon, hah-hah!
Cheers Clive…see you again!
He managed to capture my best side too.
We are the Mods, we are the Mods etc…
Decent in Humble Pie.
Lincolnshire has gone a bit cryptic. Answers on the side of a pallet to the usual address!
“They come over here steal our jobs and er, eat our crops.”
Pretty much all there is for miles.
Solid tree work here though.
Only eight miles left and civilisation breaks out, hah-hah!
Quality!
Nothing to do with me, alright?
Saw this pair of day-trippers on the run in…
More of that civilisation…
My acco was literally a poorly-lobbed stone away from the pier: a proper old school guest house. The bonus ball for me is that there’s a 24 hour McDs not two minutes walk. See you in there about 0615 tomorrow? Sorted!
Like red?
Rehydration did occur…cheers!
Thankfully the Tour of the Decade is back on. See you back here in October!
So that’s another stage done and few more yards gained. The next few days will get ugly again, I fear…the heartening bit is that the total is inching nearer to £9000. I know we will get there…somehow. So just the stats and the tune are left…goodnight and sleep tight!
The southerly wind was much appreciated- please stick around!
Conflicting emotions when the alarm sounded at daft o’clock this morning: on the one hand I was toast due to the garbage mattress, but on the other…the sooner I’m out of this place, the better. For the avoidance of doubt, this sentiment doesn’t apply to the rest of Woodbridge!
And away!
It was 9c for a good 90 mins or so. Aw diddums!
The route was basically go north-east until you hit the coast and er, stick with it! Crisp mornings like this are wonderful looking: deep blue skies…mist patches…still canals and inlets. Bueno! Breakfast wasn’t sourced/served until 30 miles were done in lovely Southwold. Co-op did the business, of course!
Partridge’s opposition!
Loadsa pig farms around. Breakfast time for them!
Could’ve gone a few Weetabix, no problem.
If I did nothing else today, I had to get myself to checkpoint number three which would be mainland England’s most easterly point…Ness Point, at Lowestoft. From there, the next main spot was Great Yarmouth but honestly, the loveliest bit was the run from there all the way to Holt…and no, that’s not just because there was a good, old tailwind. Well, just a bit…
So many beautiful places like this…
And this…
Culminating in this delight for the eyes, hah-hah!
Great Yarmouth.
And again.
The rural aspect of this does have one drawback: food and water sources are a bit on the scarce side, which invariably means that you press on until the gauge is nearing empty. However, how about a garden centre with a convenience store? Yeah, that’s good enough!
Well that’ll see me okay for another few miles…
“Yeah mate, just keep it at that until Blackpool.”
There’s the odd bit of rolling terrain but this was about as flat a century as you’ll get, and there’s no word of complaint here! The Cycling Gods™️ even threw in an unscheduled stop for a 99 in lovely Happisburgh, with its lighthouse looking fine.
W. Miller just out of shot/off his face! #scrumpy
The reduced amount of vertical means I go a little less-slowly forward, which equals an earlier finish time…this is all good! That said, when Holt rolled into view I was not unhappy…certain *contact points* do tend to protest after a while, ahem…
About 1,000,000% better than last night’s acco!
Rehydration is under Starter’s Orders…and the pint was on the house! #jug
People of Holt- admire the efforts of my admin, hopefully drying!
As ever, just the stats (unhelpfully split into two parts) and the tune are left…is this ABBA’s greatest number? I dunno, but it’s got to be close to it!
That night’s sleep might be classed as well ropey, due to sirens…shouting…and sounds of general nonsense- and no, I had nothing to do with it! Anyway, up and on the bike for 0635 for what on paper looks like an absolute nightmare start. And given that I’d be cycling the first 20 miles on the A2 and not paper (sorry Cloughie), meant it was all that and a bag of chips.
And away!
I didn’t help myself either: for some unknown reason I reckoned it was a good five miles less to the Dartford RV crossing point. So what, you’re not unreasonably thinking: the issue is that you can’t cycle across the bridge or through the tunnel, so you need to rock-up at the appropriate RV point and ring to ask for a van to shuttle you across or through. And it ain’t a 24/7 service either, the slot I had to meet was between 0700-0900…so I gave myself a horror show task. Non bueno.
Photos were in short supply due to the traffic. Cut the cheering!
I was okay as long as there was a shoulder, and for 90% of the time there was.
There are segregated cycle lanes away from the A2 but I was that pressed for time that I had to take a chance and give the main route a go as it’ll save distance, and hope for the best. In the event, it was a complete stress-fest but it worked. I’ll try not to repeat it anytime soon though, hah-hah!
Quite glad to have made decent time…
Nah, not really cycling territory is it?
Still a helluva bit of engineering…
Delayed breakfast is served and will not touch the sides!
The relief at getting through the tunnel is massive, but all too soon you’re dumped out in Essex and frankly, there’s at least another 15 or 20 miles of grimness incoming until you get countrified. Before all that, there was the slight matter of a delayed petit dejeuner!
Progress!
Ian Broudie is never *that* far away…
It was an odd day, photo-wise: I passed through some nice villages and interesting towns but couldn’t get anything worth your time. Savour these days, hah-hah!
Delayed lunch in a lovely spot…Ardleigh.
A three county day…boom!
I can’t blame anyone else for tonight’s choice…
The old W. Allen line about being able to touch all four walls whilst lying in bed, sprang to mind!
As grim as my acco was, this place was a brilliant choice for dinner! Kudos Lesley and Andy…
Rehydrated protocols cannot be messed with. Top drop!
So that’s about it for today…bit of a transition stage innit? Just leaves us with the stats (managed not to split them into two this time) and today’s tune. Given that we spent most of the day in Essex, there’s only one contendah seeing as how we had Wilko back in Monmouth!
Done, and dusted!
This bunch had the hooks, words and blimey but they could play!
