Cycling adventures across Britain and beyond
Heavy rain persuaded me to scale down today’s plans. Less emphasis on distance, and more emphasis on avocado and salmon breakfasts on sourdough toasts in the lovely cafe in Castle Ashby. It was already drizzling when we struck east along the Nene and through the Wetlands, which were living up to their name, except perhaps…
A gentle, pleasant, sunny day of Northants countryside: thatchy villages with churches and cottages in orange-red stone, none quite fetching enough for a picture postcard, but all pleasant. Though with stamps the price they are these days, that was just as well. We headed west from the centre along the River Nene, which is pronounced…
The place still makes a few boots and shoes, none of them for cycling though. But on Day 1 of my route research around Northampton, the boot was on the other foot: my gravel foot, not my road bike foot. Having paused to admire the Guildhall, and come away from the tourist office in the…
I was in Birmingham to investigate a cycle cafe – Gorilla, in King’s Heath – and had a chance to ride a few stretches of bike path during my spin round the city. Many of these bike paths were sparkling examples of the genre, because they were full of broken glass. Birmingham must be the…
Torpenhow Hill in Lancashire is sometimes said to the most redundantly named thing in Britain, because all four elements (tor, pen, how, hill) mean ‘hill’. But anything Lancashire can do, Yorkshire can do better. Lake Semerwater, just south of Bainbridge in Wensleydale, also has a quadruple name: ‘lake-sea-mere-water’, each element meaning exactly (or to be…
Jeremy Clarkson calls Buttertubs Pass one of his favourite roads, but that won’t put me off. Because Buttertubs is, indeed, one of Yorkshire’s most impressive cycling experiences. And therefore England’s. And arguably the world’s, though you’d have to be very argumentative to go that far. The road scrambles its way north from Hawes in Wensleydale…
Both the 1980s and 2020s TV settings of All Creatures Great and Small, James Herriot’s heartwarming tales of a vet’s life in mid-1900s Yorkshire, were shot mainly in Askrigg and the Dales. But Herriot himself – real name Alf Wight – in fact lived and practised in Thirsk. Nothing about the town is familiar to…
Bike pace is perfect for getting under the skin of things, as countless mosquitoes and fleas chomping me this summer could verify. And today’s ride – a sixty-mile circuit west of Thirsk via Masham and Ripon – revealed some delightful bits of quirky, off-piste Yorkshire. From Thirsk’s market square I headed northwest past the racecourse…
Little back lanes through little back villages got me to Eccleshall, a handsome small town that has more than you’d expect from something of this size: craft-beer bars, artisan bakeries, Young Offender Institutions. After some thought I decided the most appropriate of those for me just now was the artisan bakery, and snaffled a gourmet…
The morning was silent, save the gentle throb of hangovers from the neighbouring tents. A short day in prospect today, with the Welsh hills behind me. And the Shropshire hills in front of me. I explored Welshpool, which didn’t quite have the picturesque centre I imagined, though I got a glimpse of the canal towpath…