Moustiers to Castelanne June 23, penultimate day

If you thought we had climbed enough,  think again. This is going to be a long day with plenty of climbing so up and at it as fast as we can. We rose a further 700m before coffee . Up and up, through a couple of arches along the left side of the Gorge du Verdon. The gorge is known as the Grand Canyon of France, with good reason.  It is spectacular and the view from the coffee cafe stop well worth it.  It is called the cafe de Grand Canyon and we sit on the terrace overlooking the river about 400m below.  Fortunately Tom is there with the van as the cafe will not refill our water bottles as they say the water is not good for drinking.  One wonders what they use for the coffee, which tastes all right. The place is known for the surly service so we knew it was coming.  The woman who had been begrudging did raise a short of smile as I paid her. It was fairly shortlived as I waited patiently for my 20c change. Onwards. .. through the tunnel and down.
Just as we get to the tunnel emergency services arrive to treat a cyclist, not one of ours,  who had come down in the tunnel. He was traveling with a couple of friends following the same route over a few less days and one of the party had ridden with our tour company,  Skedaddle,  in the past.  The cyclist had concussion and was taken to hospital to check for any more serious damage.  Interestingly the group had elected not to wear their helmets.  It is not a legal requirement in France but they will wear them from now on they say.  Lucky for them too that Tom and the van at at the front of the cars held up,  and has enough room in the van to be able to take the injured cyclist's machine to Nice for him.
Lunch is by the road again,  and the remainder of the day fairly flat along the river.  Not far on from lunch I am regretting going on in the heat and stop for a rest, sitting on a pile of stones by the road with my head in my hands telling Anna to go on and I'll just sit there by the road until Tom comes by with the van. She does a very good imitation of me.  On the day Anna encouraged me to rest a bit,  have plenty to drink,  have one of her power shot jellies and give it another go.  I'm not sure what was in it but I must say it did the trick.  I made it into Castellane.
Interesting turn of events there as the hotel we were booked into had,  without any reference to the Skedaddle Office,  moved us to another hotel just across the square as they "had a big group in". The new place had a lovely garden where we say and had a couple of beers allowing the day to cool off a bit. A few people told us the rooms were hot, with no air conditioning so I was not looking forward to it.  Nicely refreshed it was a treat to discover that my room was not hot,  that it was clean and comfortable and had a bath.  I recovered nicely before heading out to join a few others over the square for an ice cream, beer or similar which Skedaddle bought us to make up for the confusion.  Not a bad result.

Peyruis to Moustiers-Saint-Marie June 22

Quite a climb this morning after a quick run along the river,  up into the hills and high lavender fields. I shall be watching for bees having already been stung once the other day.  It is not pleasant,  I have recovered well with no lasting effects so that's that.
The lavender is wonderful,  and this time for the most part in full bloom.  

Several people,  on bikes,  in cars,  on foot,  stop to photograph it.  Some walk into the crop and one lot picked quite a bunch.  You wonder if they'd do the same if it was wheat or barley. .I doubt it.
Coffee in Valperole, lavender capital of Provence .. so much purple everywhere. Sailing downhill out of Valperole I stop briefly at a farmer's roadside stall to buy a small bottle of lavender oil. It fits neatly into my pocket and as long as I don't crash and smash it all will be well.
Today is a short day, but a strenuous ride, more uphill, more downhill with a final stretch up into the beautiful tourist town of Moustiers-Saint-Marie.  Lunch today is a real sit down affair at a restaurant - delicous with a cold beer, then check in and shower.  A walk around town through all the ceramics shops for which Moustiers is known,  and the ceramics museum which is lovely ... and cool.  More walking,  must be time for a swim in the hotel pool.

Dinner on a terrace is a must in warm Moustiers with a stroll back to bed.  After sharing a room with Anna for the last two and a half weeks I am on my own. It seems a little weird. Anna's husband Ian has arrived to follow the ride's last few days by car. Ian had driven some of the route and marvels at our hill climbing prowess .. and rightly so.  This does not do justice to the hills,  but gives you an idea of how steep it is in town. 

Sault to Peyruis

Thank goodness the Tour de France is going along our route in July because the road has been resurfaced and is perfect for riding on, smooth and fast.  This is a short day so a few more have tackled Mont Ventoux this morning heading up straight after breakfast. Another hot day forecast.
Morning coffee stop is in Banon, home to the seventh largest book store in France.  It is a good looking building and a rabbit warren of books inside - or so i am told as i did not go in.

I did go in to a local artisan boulangerie and enjoyed a very good quiche lorraine, and on a whim broke my own rule and bought a bag which reads "Bon comme un bon pain". I am grateful to Eli who very generously carries it for me to our destination. I definitely owe him a large beer when we get in.

We are now passing fields of lavender,  mostly in bud about to flower and are hopeful of flowers in bloom over the next few days.


Our ride ends with a beautiful descent en route to Peyruis with lunch by the side of the road justt near a hairpin bend which gives passers by a golden opportunity to gawk at us.  We are obviously enjoying ourselves as is our wont.

Today's hotel has two swimming pools .. we only use one.  Dinner has a lot of vegetables .. and pasta .. and salad so we really enjoy it.  Just about the best yet.  Vegetables and salads have not always been easy to come by.

Roadway encouragement

Fun on the road

Chateauneuf-du-Pape to Sault

There is nothing like a good rest for encouraging one to get back on the bike and off down the road again. Added to that is the prospect of a shorter day, even with the ride up what appears to be the inevitable gorge ... Gorge de la Nesque this time.  Discussion at the al fresco breakfast centres around who will, who might, and who has decided against riding Mont Ventoux. Our guides are going of course. Some may go this afternoon,  some may go in the morning. Either way there will be hot riding weather along the way and I am not coping well with that so I dip out.
The ride up and through the gorge is spectacular, with amazing vistas going on and on into the distance.  A wonderful ride.
And then we arrive at Sault where our host Antoine gives us a very warm welcome. Tons of riders, drivers and the occasional bus travel from Sault to the peak of Mont Ventoux which means Alex spends quite a bit of time hunting about for a parking spot before he can set up our lunch. Lunch was worth the wait as usual.
During the afternoon I say in the square outside our hotel and enjoyed a quiet nap in my chair,  waking to enjoy a beer with some of my fellow riders and cheer the arrival of our MtV  conquerors.  Dinner was also served in the square by our host,  now Chef Antoine,  delicious slow cooked beef followed by a desert cake made especially for our group. I thought i had a photo of it but cannot find it.  Damn

View up the Gorge de la Nesque

Not quite Van Gogh

Vallon Pont dArc to Chateauneuf-du-Pape

Took a long time to get here, but it is a beautiful place, and last nightnwe dined al fresco which is becoming a delightful habit. The weather continues unseasonably hot, though I  expect that it is actually the new seasonal weather and we will all have to admit it soon.
The third day with a substantial hill, this one at the start of the day up up and through the outstanding Gorges d'Ardeche.  Photographs don't always do justice to the realmthing, but I'll put one or two in.  At the top the ride along the ridge before the amazing descent is spectacular. 
Down we go to greet the Rhone, and our first sighting of the famous Mont Ventou.  Our ride over then next couple of days allow time for those so inclined to ride the Mont but I  am not so inclined in the heat.  In fact I  cut mynride short today, i think it is the cumulative effect of the last couple of days catching up and so I  get a lift into our destination. It is only 15, but the prospect of riding in no shade even that short way fills me with dread. All I want is a shower and a lie down.
Sadly for my host at the hotel I am not thrilled to discover that we have been given a king bed in lieu of twin beds,  and less thrilled when he seems to think that it isn't a problem that they have no twin room left.  It is not his suggestion but mine that the two beds forming the King be separated and they start again. In the end I state just bring us two sheets and we will sort it. Not an auspicious start. I sit by the pool and sleep instead.  The delicious meal served al fresco somewhat makes up for it and the delicious red at dinner. And the good breakfast also al fresco ... but his superior attitude still rankles a bit. It will in due course fade into the blur of good times.

The arc that gives Vallon Pont d'Arc its name

Gorgeous gorges

The Rhone

Estragyues to Mende, Mende to Vallon Pont d'Arc

These days are the toughest on the ride,  long rides (each over 120km) and uphill all the way.  I have to admit to a beautiful descent at the end of the second day but tough work to get there. 
The first day,  the third hill is a climb up the hill from Marvejols which is a killer.  At the top is a sign advising anyone going down that there are 3km at 10% gradient.  Knowing that is the mean, based on figures below and above that you get the picture. Steep. The road is covered with painted encouragement for former racers. ... Courage mon ❤, etc  One at the beginning reads 'Bienvenu a infer', Welcome to hell.
So here's a story from the road instead ...  it comes from a chapel we passed by a river.

Figeac to Estraygnues

Today was a wonderful ride. Up straight away from town into a high ridge ride, descent, up again over another hill with a glorious descent to the Lot River valley. We are going to follow the river for the rest of the day. The day is short, lunch will be by the river at our destination. It is the lull before the storm of the the next couple of days which have big climbs in them. That in itself is not a problem, it is the combination of hill and heat. I have harped on enough about the tour organiser not wanting to start the day early so will refrain from complaining again.
Riding by the river is relaxing, no rush to get anywhere, just enjoying the ride with coffee in a small town made in a machine one step up from those in the hotel breakfast rooms. The surroundings and shared experience make the quality of the coffee a lesser consideration - or I am getting used to bad coffee. Uh Oh , but I know it will all change with one good piccolo or flat white.  We come into town by the confluence of the Lot and Truyere rivers heading across the 13th century bridge tomour riverside lunch and hotel.
It is like a second rest day, this time by the pool.  I sat down in our room to do a couple of things before having a shower and immediately fell asleep.. I am well versed in resting. I woke, cleaned the road off and did my washing and headed poolside. 

Sarlat to Figeac, June15

This was a good riding day, but bit too hot and not quite enough shade towards the end.  Great climb in the morning, after riding alongside the Dordogne for a while, up to Rocamadour and a fantastic view .
Rolling hills along the ridge through farming lands, some pasture, some crops, and some forested stretches.  All this until lunch which was followed by one last hill up and over down into Figeac.
Rooftop pool was too hot to swim in, so a stroll to an outdoor restaurant was enough then an early night.  Good night 

The view from Rocomadour

La Vigeant to Brantome

Turn left out the hotel gate and go straight up that hill...what a heart starter. The forecast is another very warm day and the briefing indicates some hills coming up.  In fact, the day is pretty well all hills, not too steep but a couple of short sharp shocks and of course some good descents.
We will be passing the turn off to a meteorite crater today. I do mean passing as it would mean adding just a few kilometres over the daily total. I have already added a few Km by missing the morning coffee stop and in spite of already being at the top of the hill out of town I turn back to join my pals, have cofee and strawberry tart. I found out later that some others were refused the tart, perhaps I looked more deserving.

Back to the crater, though it is very wide it is just about completely eroded now I hear, so I settle for seeing the rock used in local construction.  When the meteorite hit it completely changed the rock surrounding the crater so it is a unique and therefore quite distinctive rock which somewhat resembles lava I saw in Oregon a couple of yeara back.

Arriving at the top of the hill for the second time, I am again struck by the spectacular panorama of farming scenery to the left including what I always think of as an Australian windmill. I know they are used elsewhere but it is from rural Australia that I know and love them.
Onwards, ever onwards... to Brantome. Built on an island the oldest part of town is delightful to walk through which we do on our way to dinner. It is a convenient way to check out the riverside restaurants and decide which of those open (it's Monday and several are not) is worthy of our custom. The preferred one seems reluctant to let us onto the terrace but as we three are willing to sit in the back corner we are welcomed at last. Fortunately for us very few patrons require the convenience at our backs and so we enjoy a delicious meal, cool and comfortable and with a lovely view.

Team photo

Just another chateau

Parthenay to Le Vigeant

Well, I know I wrote this day up and it seems to have completely disappeared.  let's see if i can remember it.
Parthenay was a pilgrim town and as we are on a classic riding journey we are perhaps pilgrims of sorts. Today's trip is very up and dow, rolling hills through farmland where the crops are in various stages. We see sunflowers planted and not yet anywhere near budding, let alone flowering. Barley seems to be the most common grain in the area, but we alsompass theough vegetable fields aplenty.
It a as a steady day of riding with a cafe stop late morning andna wayside lunch leaving us anshort 30km or so to get into the next overnight stop on the banks of the River Vienne.  This hotel is wonderful, motel type units so no stairs to lug bags up, a good swimming pool, sunny garden to dry washing and a good dinner to look forward to.
Having time to sit and read in the garden after a swim is a luxury for those of us who are usually well behind the riders who go very fast - that is those of us who make up the second sitting at lunch.  Naturally I am in the latter.  We all enjoy ourselves,  operating at our own pace.  I still wish we could get out earlier but there always seems to be a reason to do with the logistics have worked like this before.  Yes,  but was it so hot?  Ah well. .... the country is beautiful and the company good.

Late start

Breakfast and the briefing started the day at the usual time,  but a shorter day's ride allows time to see the Abbey next to the hotel.  Wow, it is wonderful. The cavernous spaces, the buildings, the gardens, everything.  There is enough on Wikipedia and travel advisor so I am not giving you the travelogue version here.  A highlight for us was coming across the audio setup for something, probably a wedding,  in a rear garden. The sound set to reflect from the abbey walls filled the space with a wonderful sound. Our hour long visit was certainly not enough, but the road calls.
A shorter ride is welcome after the first few days, but it still seems a longish way to coffee..will the cafe have shut for the lunch break? No, phew - and  there is shade. Good double, and as I enter fellow cyclists are ordering coffee in not bad French when the barman suddenly say in perfect English 'Would you mind closing the door behind you'. It is an absurdist moment as we go ahead mixing my poor French with his excellent English. Then an Englishwoman comes through another door and buys some coke. Stop this fun, get to lunch before sundown.
The best thing about the picnic lunches is the way the riders egg the guides on to top the previous day's picnic.  Alex and Tom alternate driving the van and getting lunch with riding each day.  They also excel at finding shady places, usually with trees, to dine under. Admittedly, they have been here before and there are notes but we appreciate it as if it were just for us and brand new.
On the road again, still long stretches mostly with little traffic. The scenery continues fine, the weather getting warmer. We areive in the former pilgrim town Parthenay to the least attractive hotel building so far, but the bed feels comfortable and their is air-conditioning so we can close the windows to shut out the noise of the city square below. It is not unpleasant noise of people enjoying themselves but sleep m is paramount.  The hotel does have an amusing sign on the door...

Loire Day

The Loire, conjuring images of rolling vineyards interspersed with Chateaux by the dozen. .. and today is the day.  We are going to ride along the river for most of the day moving closer then away until we end up in Fontevraud l'Abbaye for the night.
There is a great air of anticipation ,tempered a little by the long straight road ahead and the also anticipated heat of the day. Our riding takes us through farming land and woodlands and villages with historic churches and chateaux in sight, glimpsed through woods or not seen at all. A string of villages along the river proudly proclaim they are "sans pesticides". Good for them.
Great treat today at the cafe in Brissace-Quincé when I asked for a Cafe Crema (a double espresso with hot milk on the side) only to be asked if I  wanted a flat white or latte! Not only was it a good flat white but it had art on the top. Quelle surprise - you see how well I  speak the local language now.
We have a plan for lunch, by the local mushroom museum.  Wow. There are hundreds and hundreds of mushroom samples encased in resin and lots of information about the edible and the toxic ones, which I  won't remember. As I don't often go mushrooming I am reliant on my local supplier to have that sorted. Deeper and deeper into the cave I go, observing various methods of growing mushrooms. There are trays of experimental cultures and dozens of rectanular hangers resembling bird feeders in the Salle des Shitakes. Some of the 'shrooms are decidedly weird and it is cold down there (40Farenheit) so back to the warmth and the bike.
At the end of the ride our hotel is lovely,  right next to the Abbey that gives the town its name. It is too late to see it but tomorrow is a shorter ride so perhaps in the morning.  Roses abound and the scent is delightful - as it has been through several stretches of the ride.  Another day down,  another good beer,  a good dinner and a good sleep to look forward to. 

Long and straight

Today is a day of long straight flat roads through beautiful country and though it is a second day of headwinds it is not too hot, but warming up a bit. That is the Australian view, some others find it hotter.

Have I mentioned already that i am not a fan of flat riding? I like a bit of downhill , even if it means a bit of uphill, to give me a break from sitting in the saddle and pedalling. The countryside is beautiful  and the villages picturesque, though many surprisingly quiet, utterly devoid of people. No, it is not between noon and 2 so they are not all behind doors. The schools are full so the parents must be somewhere.

I do enjoy the boulangeries, patisseries and cafe bars where we are invited to bring our own food to their tables as they don't sell food. Good plan. Our planned picnic lunches have not yet eventuated due to the trouble with the van. Tom has delivered all our luggage to the night's destination then headed back to Saint Malo on the promise that the real van will be ready at the end of the day.

Almost at the end of our cycling day we come across the most wonderful chateau, the Chateau Plessis-mace.  The forecourt is being prepared for the Festival d'Anjou and the erected stage, seating and marquees mar the view but as it is closed to the public and we are allowed in we cannot complain really. It is a lovely almost end to the day. We rode the last few kilometres to the hotel,  grateful that we are on the ground floor and don't have to lug our bags upstairs - now that's a fitting end to a long ride.

The Tour of France begins

Everyone finally arrived for our introductory briefing and dinner. First the plane bringing some in was late, then the van broke down. Yes, the van that is to carry all our luggage. There is no way we can do it ourselves. Of course several taxis solve the problem by bringing first the people, then more bags and lastly the bikes in boxes. It will all be worked out one way or another in the morning.
Some people have ridden together before ( I am one of 6 who rode from end to end of the UK 2 years ago), many are meeting for the first time. The group includes 3 Australians, 2 New Zealanders, 8 English, 1 American. We are led by two guides, Tom and Alex. I look forward to getting to know more of them as we go along
Abandoning our luggage to Alex we head out as we are ready for the 110+km start. Wending or way out of St Malo is an exercise in mastering roundabouts from the "wrong" side of the road and it is a relief to hit the country stretch.
Today's ride is pretty flat, with some insulation. We are going to end up travelling SW which is where the wind comes from so yes we end up in a headwind.
In the meantime there is the coastal road, stretches of which are suitably named Rue du Bords de Mer and Rue du Littoral. Sounds more exotic than Beach Road. We see Mont St Michel in the hazy distance and I am sorry we​ didn't get there, and I'm not adding any kilometres to today's trip.
It is a good thing that the countryside, along the coast and inland as we turn from it, are beautiful as that distracts from the continuous pedaling along the flat. I shouldn't harp on about it as it really isn't too bad, there were some undulations through picturesque villages and along mostly empty country roads. Everywhere is green and wonderful to look at and our luggage does arrive at the hotel around 7pm just in time to change for dinner. We had filled in the time quite nicely with lengthy lunch stop in the sun at Fougeres then beer on the hotel verandah overlooking the sculpture garden.

London take 2

Back in town, with theatre tickets aplenty to see me through the week before we go to France.  First event is at The Globe, the Shakespeare theatre on the banks of the Thames..seeing Twelfth Night. This is a rowdier production than one may be used to with plenty of song and dance and I enjoy it thoroughly from perfect seats behind the pit of hoi polloi audience standing between us and the stage. Fortunately it does not rain as they would certainly get wet if that occurred.
I spend my last few days wandering or cycling around the place and my evenings in town. I saw a second Moliere play, though a modern adaption,  Don Juan in Soho with David Tennant wonderful in the title role. He is more than ably supported by Adrian Scarborough as his factotum Stan. I am so glad I went.
The same applies to the other shows, Our Ladies of Perpetual Succour and The Barbershop Chronicles. The first has already been to Melbourne and how did I not see it there? Perhaps I was not there. It is a musical about a group of teenage Scottish girls on a school outing to participate in a choir competition. That is how they get to Edinburgh but they have very different personal plans. As the night and the following day evolve so do the girls revealing themselves to the audience with raucous behaviour and deeper personal layers masked by it. I hope it comes back to Oz.
Finally the National Theatre production, The Barbershop Chronicles, performed in the round in the smallest theatre in the complex. I once more have a wonderful seat, first row of the circle with a full view of the stage floor below on which several barbers' chairs are set of and lots of chairs and couches surrounding the performance space.  The action moves between shops in London, Johannesburg, Harare, Kampala, Lagos and Accra. There is a connection between all, and the play looks at masculinity, relationships between men, between fathers and sons and atbthe political scenes in the various countries. The ensemble cast is top notch and i go home happy that I have seen all the plays I wanted to and not ended up with a dud anywhere.
I have spent almost my last full day in London with Terry, whom I have not seen for a few years. It is another good day, we meet at Waterloo and after coffee head for the John Soanes Museum which houses the architect's enormous collection of art, furniture and architectural pieces. Spread across three houses which he has built or modified to ensure light enters all the spaces are amazing buts from plaster samples of ancient architectural effects, through a collection of paintings which includes Hogarth's series The Rake's Progress to an alabaster sarcophagus which was wrapped in mattresses during WWII to protect it as it could not be moved. Then lunch in the park nearby, another small museum and talking over a cup of tea until I realise I have to rush off to make the theatre. A good ending.

Manor Farm

Almost every village I've been to in England,  this trip and the last,  has a Manor Farm - a reminder of a time long past.  This Manor Farm,  where I am staying with Lauren, is no longer a working farm but a house that gives three generations spaces of their own and yards of space to run around. This last is just as well as the children make full use of it, running in all directions as far and as fast as they can.

Lauren has a fairly full schedule planned but it doesn't include rushing around so I am in for a relaxing few days. The weather continues fine, with the exception of the occasional thunderstorm. We spent some time in the nearby township on market day. I wander around while Joshua and Lauren go to his swimming class, lunch at a very pleasing courtyard restaurant then time to collect Rose from school, which is breaking up for the half term break. 

We had a wonderful barbecue in the front yard that evening, leftovers the next. Great plan. The next day saw us heading into Norwich Cathedral just as the thunderstorm hit leaving us unaffected by it. We emerged to glorious sunshine and off to Pizza Express for lunch. Many years ago I had the Pizza Express cook book which stated that three toppings are all any pizza needs. They seem to have moved well on from that following the trend for jamming as much as possible on top, but I stick pretty close to the original rule. 

Lauren has saved the best until last.. a day at Bressingham Steam museum, not mentioning until we arrive that it also houses a Dad's Army exhibition. This is a permanent display of sets, vehicles and props from the television series. And they run the show continuously. 

Cannot stay too long as there are trains aplenty to ride. It is a great place, perfect weather for it and love the children's delight in it. My word we slept well that night. And then it's time to ride of to the train, but not without a quick return to get my camera left in the kitchen. 

In spite of the delay and missing my planned train I go ahead with a stopover in Ely to see the Cathedral there and Oliver Cromwell's house. So glad I did, both interesting, the Cathedral spectacular, the coffee in the market outstanding (went on the way out and the way back), interesting walk by the Riverside and still got the train back to London to meet Anna and Ian and go to the theatre.

Manor Farm

Font from former Nestle factory, once used for boiling caramels

Jonesie's butcher van

Riding on a train

Indeed,  I am riding on a train towards Lauren in Norfolk after two delightful nights in Nottingham with Lawrence and Lyn whom I met on the ride from Lands End to John o Groats two years ago.  They will also be doing the ride through France, as will another couple,  Murray and Sue, so it will be a reunion of sorts.
The weather holds fair and warm so I have enjoyed a walk around Nottingham, a beer in England's oldest pub cut into the rock below the castle, tea and cheese toast at at a fishing lake as part of yet another good days riding,  dinner at the local pub,  dinner at home and a walk to the local village centre for coffee before getting on the train.  A highlight was a visit to Woollaton Hall, a beautiful house in magnificent grounds which extended green in all directions, but the real delight was the natural history museum inside the house,  it was so unexpected.
Whoever reserved the seat next to me didn't show up so I had plenty of room for a nap.  Lyn kindly supplied me with a sandwich and a lunch treat and away I go to Norwich via Ely where the train changed direction. At Norwich it's all change for Diss then a short ride to Manor Farm.
I love train travel,  so relaxing and interesting.  In this instance once again the countryside is green and lovely thanks to the rain a couple of weeks ago after a long long dry spell.
And then I changed trains, or I would have if there hadn't been trouble with the level crossings and my train cancelled. Got the next one and though the announcements were all about the delay we would experience there was none. I love train travel.
I rode from Diss station,  all of three miles to Manor Farm where I am to join Lauren and the family for a few days. It is late afternoon on a sunny day and there are quiet country lanes to ride on.  Brilliant.

Monday, museum day

I had not yet been to St Pancras station so did a recce, picked up all the tickets for the next week and was glad to have done so. It is wonderfully spacious and interesting and even though I had now seen it I determined to get there in plenty of time for my train the next day. 
I planned to look at a few smaller museums, and it is a good thing I am coming back to London in a week as all three are closed on Monday. Fortunately there is plenty else to do, so I head off to the British Library close by to read the Magna Carta and then to he British Museum following cycleway signs and just having a good time looking round as I go.  There is always something to see. Hours later I leave the Museum, having seen as much as I could, especially in the Egyptian section with the mummies, sarcophagi, etc. It was a marvel to me as there were so many and so much else to see,  including the Rosetta Stone.  These after things we learnt about in school,  but there's not a lot of diverse antiquity from other countries in Australia. .everyone else got there first perhaps.
Later I rode back towards the station to travel along the canal towpath for a while.  This was a little dodgy in parts as the path narrowed under bridges and it was not always easy to see what our who was coming towards you.  Of course riding there at peak hour as people headed home was not the best idea but delaying my ride with a pint in a canalside bar improved everything.
Home to pack,  ready for the rural excursion catching up with friends.

A perfect day for it

Another day of brilliant sunshine, and another train ride. We inadvertently got the wrong train, but to the right destination. Ours was a stopping all stations, the other was express. All that happened was we missed our connection and got a later train. That left us time to have a  cup of coffee between trains. Anna has the map and we head out of Headcorn station only an hour later than we thought, heading straight for the country roads. 
No too far out we saw a sign about a tractor rally so stopped to have a look and watched a few tractors come onto the road ahead of us. That was interesting, until someone told Anna there were 120 of them. As they seemed to be travelling at our place we just joined in for a while which no one seemed to mind. Our paths diverged a bit down the road but we passed them again travelling in the opposite direction later in the day.
The countryside is stunning, green and beautiful with picturesque villages just as you would anticipate.  We came into Woodchurch stopping to admire the windmill before de iding on lunch at The Six Bells The adjacent pub had a  catchy name, but there seemed to be no one dining there so we went with the numbers. Turned out just fine,lovely garden to sit in, friendly staff and a good beer ... Timothy Taylor's.  We had plenty of time so added a few miles to our journey to go along the edge of the Romney Marshes. Later we added a couple more miles a time or two when we took an unplanned  turn or two only to return to the right junction.
By the time we go to Sissinghurst Castle to see the famous gardens we were hot and thirsty so tea ahead of anything. As we approached the garden entrance we saw a sign that announced the gardens closed. Anna spoke to the guide nearby telling him that we had ridden 45miles to see them and he kindly allowed us to step inside and have a very quick look. We were just inside when we were accosted by a woman asking if we had tickets, she didnt chuck us out when told that we weren't really going in.  We ran across the courtyard, looked through the gates at Vita Sackville-West's famed white garden, took a couple of guick pictures and departed. We then had a good view of the garden from the other side of the moat as we rode off.
You cannot get lost in England I've decided because you always seem to be able to see the next village and with that in mind it's more like taking an alternative route unexpectedly.  If you are trying to make a train you will probably feel a little differently, as we did. We made the station, but the train didn't come so we got the next one and areived home to a beer and dinner cooked by Ian. A great end to a very good day. Thank you to both Anna and Ian for making it so.

War, what is it good for ..absolutely nothing.

Sunshine at last, glorious sunshine.  Back on the bike following the signs of CS7 (Cycle Superhighway 7) out to Clapham Common for brunch and to catch up with Sallyann, whom I have not seen for a couple of decades  not that we are counting them.  Enjoyed a walk with Sally round the local area, then before heading home  a ride round the common. On the way in I managed to follow the signs and do a circle somewhere, astnished that I had arrived at the same point as a few minutes earlier. God knows how that happened, and I managed to avoid doing it twice. 
Sometimes under these circumstances I keep an eye out for other people who seem to know where they are going and follow them for a bit. It has led to some interesting places but this time it worked in my favour, as I started to recognise streets and headed in the right direction. At one stage I saw an arrow to a cinema museum but found that the museum was closed, indeed it did not seem to have any regular opening hours so I  won't be back.
The Imperial War Museum is an imposing building set in wonderful gardens a visit recommended to me by a couple of people.  Inside is a wonderful space several floors high around a large atrium. I started in chronological order with the First World War, and that took ages as it was a fascinating display and collection. There is a gallery at the top housing a large private collection of VC (Victoria Cross) and other medals with stories about the people to whom they've been awarded. Finally I visited the Holocaust section which, as one would expect, is very graphic and very moving about the plight of the victims and the survivors. A comprehensive section through which all move in a sombre mood.
Before heading off I had a cup of tea in the cafe, deciding that what I had seen was enough for one day. A return visit is on my list.

Seeing the sights

The weather over the last few days has not been conducive to riding everywhere sadly. I spent a day walking around, which is no hardship in London, I love doing just that.  I spent a day on the bike seeing out on a sunny morning only to return in the afternoon in the rain, taking notes that I should not leave how without a raincoat.  Walking again the next day and it didn't rain until I was in sight of home.  It's like being in Melbourne and the temperatures are about the same.  A better weekend is forecast.
I got to the Tate Modern (gallery) quite late in the day as in my meanderings I came across an extensive photographic exhibition in a wonderful dockside building that had not been tarted up and the exhibition was spread through multiple rooms on several floors.  I will have to go back to the Tate to see more there.
On my cycling day I managed to navigate my way through some hideous traffic diversions around Parliament Square but for the most part was on bicycle paths or signed roads. Cycling in London was a bit hairier than cycling through Melbourne and that was due only in part to being on unfamiliar roads. It was quite a relief to get to my destination at Kensington Palace via Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens.  The white garden I had come to see was in the throes of replanting but still worth a quick look. Afternoon tea served with chipped china less so. The staff seemed totally uninterested when I quietly pointed it out.  Black mark. And that is when the rain started - staying until I got home.
A quick change of clothes and off to a book launch with Anna and Ian at the Freemasons Hall. Wow, what a building. We went in via the main entrance to get directions to the launch, greeted by the sight of many men exiting the building, all I think in a black suit from the same tailor. The launch itself was held in the foyer entrance to the Temple which we were allowed to see.  So much for a secret society.
One of the delights of walking is coming across something unexpected and changing one's plans on the run. That is how I came to spend an hour or so in the Bank of England Museum. I had not found that on my internet searches. The public are not allowed, you will be surprised to hear, into the enormous gold vaults. Indeed the public are not really allowed into the bank, save for a small counter where old banknotes taken out of circulation can be exchanged for new ones at face value.
Lunch from a van at the Old Spitalfields Market, delicious duck wrap,  then onto the Geffrye Museum which describes itself as a Museum of The Home.  Sadly the gin event that evening is sold out but the room displays are interesting and the upholstery exhibition also of interest. Several artists have contributed pieces, some a little more straightforward than others. There is a burnt armchair suspended from the ceiling in front of a video of said chair on fire so that may give you an idea of the scope of the exhibition.